Date point: 4y 11m 2w 4d AV
It was dark in the hallways of the ship. The rest of the crew sleeping through the night.
Two days had passed since they’d escaped the ambush fleet, and Ted had told everybody that it would take around another week to make it to the stellar nursery that held the answers they needed.
Sleep had eluded Robert for days now.
His body roamed the ship, devoid of thought, completing menial tasks throughout the day, punctuated with sudden unshakable urges to sleep, regardless of where he was.
Every time, the sleep ended the same.
Jason’s eyes, widened in shock and fear, staring into his own as he drew the blade from the Captain’s throat.
Each time, Robert attempted to scream, but found himself incapable; struggling against invisible bonds that paralyzed his voice.
Robert would awake, having not moved a muscle, nor betraying the terror that he had just experienced.
Frank and Tricko had both remarked on the unusual behavior.
But, that wasn’t important right now.
At night, when the ship was silent and empty, Robert would draw the long fusion sword from his dresser and pad silently to the cargo bay.
Moving to the cargo bay as he was now, he closed the door behind him, and moved to the most open area within it, settling on the space that had been cleared before the airlock.
In the low light of the dimmed bulbs overhead, he switched his sword on.
A shimmering blue was cast over the walls of the room, as a light humming could be heard from his weapon.
Robert squared up against an imaginary opponent.
He would be ready.
With an arc that drew a crescent of light in front of him, he slashed at the guard of his invisible foe.
The opponent dodged and returned a blow of his own, which Robert ducked, simultaneously cutting upward to sever the attacking arm of his enemy.
Neither one could gain the upper hand, as each of them bobbed and weaved around each others attacks.
And so it went.
Minutes passed as a dancing flame of blue, etching streaks of fire through the air, slashed across the room.
Sweat began pouring from it’s wielder, who no longer felt where his hand gripped the hilt of his blade, instead feeling as if it was part of him.
“Is this unusual, and seemingly pointless violence necessary, Rob?” Tricko asked.
Robert nearly fell over in his attempt to turn towards the voice that had spoken.
Tricko stood in the door of the hallway, having come to investigate the noise of heavy breathing, which he now understood to be coming from Robert.
“Tricko! What are you doing awake?” he asked, panting heavily and realising that he’d most likely woken the Gaoian up.
“I heard noises from this room, and wanted to make sure everything was alright. What are you doing, Rob?” Tricko replied, giving Robert a curious look and a hesitant glance at the still glowing fusion blade.
Seeing Tricko’s eyes move to the sword, Robert hastily turned it off and placed it onto a nearby crate of supplies.
“I…couldn’t sleep.” Robert said, telling a half-truth.
Tricko made an odd facial expression that Robert took as doubt, and said, “So you grabbed a fusion sword and began slashing at the air in the dark? Is this a common human behavior? Lack of sleep can sometimes cause Gaoians to act irrationally as well.”
Seeing that Tricko wasn’t as stupid, nor as gullible as most aliens, Robert figured he might as well just explain.
“I was practicing, just in case I have to fight again.” he said, lamely.
“I think you are already good enough at fighting, Rob.” Tricko said, but not in a way that Robert felt was a compliment.
“…Do you have something to say to me?” he asked, both fearful and angry at the answer he expected.
For the briefest moment, Tricko hesitated, aware that he was about to insult someone that could accidentally tear his arms off.
“…Yes, I do have something to say. You, Rob, are a complete idiot.” he said quickly, trying to prevent his nerve from leaving him.
Robert blinked. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected, but it sure wasn’t a blatant insult.
“What?” he said, stupidly.
“You already know how to fight, Rob. We don’t need you to be a warrior right now. We need the human that showed me how to break the invisible bonds placed on my enslaved clan!” Tricko said, his voice rising steadily.
Closing the door behind him, Tricko strode forward into the room and pointed at the twisted heap of metal that comprised Frank’s mechanical suit.
“You are the only one that knows how to fix that suit, yet it is not done! Ship maintenance that you should be doing is being done by an elderly man, because you just stare into space when he asks you to do something!” the Gaoian continued, voice rising to a sharp pitch.
Robert was speechless, unable to find words to retort with. But, Tricko wasn’t done.
“We do not need a broken man who swings a sword at invisible enemies in the middle of the night! WE NEED SOMEONE WE CAN DEPEND ON!”
Tricko was shouting now, holding back nothing as Robert stared at the raging Gaoian.
The human was going gray in the face as the words pierced him.
At last, Tricko paused, wondering if he had gone too far.
Haltingly, Robert mumbled, “I…I can’t…I can’t sleep without seeing their eyes. All of their eyes.”
Tricko didn’t say anything, merely looking at the crumbling human before him.
Robert eyes were dry. Tears no longer came to him, and he felt hollow. He hung his head and did not speak again.
Memories that Tricko had long buried were surfacing, unearthed by Robert’s pain.
“I still see their eyes too, Rob.” Tricko said quietly. Almost too quietly for any but a human to hear.
Raising his gaze again, Robert asked, “What? Who’s eyes?”
A moment of silence passed as the two watched each other. Tricko took a deep breath, as though steeling himself.
“Rob, do you really think they would use that arena only when people were stupid enough to challenge Ryxus? They made slaves fight all the time… I fought twice.” he said, his voice just barely a whisper now.
When Robert did not answer him, Tricko continued.
“In the early days, when there were mostly Gaoians and Locayl in the mine, they would have us fight our friends. The people we had been captured with. Only one of us was allowed to survive each fight, and you had to kill the other with your bare hands. If you did not, you both died.” the Gaoian said.
All emotion was absent from Tricko, speaking in a mechanical and detached tone.
The human did nothing but stare, horrified.
Tricko wasn’t done, saying, “I killed Ginta by strangling him. He was my friend, and the look in his eyes when he stopped moving will haunt me until I die. The second, Traxim, I did not know well. I killed him by smashing his skull into the ground, repeatedly. I felt when his bone structure caved in. Only one of them tried to kill me. The other ran, and begged for his life.”
Robert felt ice pouring through his veins.
“Rob, when you tell me that you see their eyes, I understand. You must rise above it, and decide that you wish to continue living. If you do not, the memories will drive you mad.” Tricko finished, at last done with his confession.
“Tricko…I…I’m so sorry.” Robert fumbled, lost for any other words.
“You need not be. I chose to live. The burden of that choice is mine to carry.” the Gaoian replied.
“I don’t know what to say…” the human admitted.
Tricko pointed again at the dismantled mech suit that had been shuffled off into the corner of the room.
“You don’t say anything. You get to work. Forced or not, labor is what kept me sane.” Tricko said.
And without waiting for a response, the Gaoian left the room.
As he opened the door to the hallway, Ryst stood waiting for him, having heard the conversation from his room.
Ryst’s eyes lingered on Robert for a moment, but he did not speak as the door closed, leaving the human alone in the cargo bay.
Robert let out a breath that he hadn’t known he was holding.
He looked at the crate where he had left his fusion sword. A set of wrenches lay on the same crate.
Moving towards it, he hesitated for a moment, and then picked up the wrenches.
4y 11m 2w 5d AV
“Where’s the kid?” Ted asked, striding onto the flight deck to speak to Frank.
Frank turned slightly in his chair and said, “Still asleep, I think. Kid worked all night, fixing the suit. It’s good as new.”
Sitting next to Frank, in the second pilot chair, Tricko turned his head slightly at the words, but said nothing.
“That’s good. The sleeping, that is. Robert looked like shit.” Ted answered, looking grim.
“I’ll say. I don’t think he’s slept more than twenty minutes at a time since we left Irbzrk.” Frank said.
Turning back to his control console, Frank stared at the same readings that he’d been watching all morning.
Sighing, he said, “Still got a week to go, and not much to do. I’m not sure what to do with myself.”
Smiling thinly, Ted replied, “Going stir crazy already? I figured some peace would be welcome after all we’ve been through.”
Frank grimaced.
“It’s the peace that’s the problem. Silence and free time allows the mind to wander to places it would rather not go.”
Ted leaned against the wall, looking at the back of the old man’s head, and asked, “You’ve got books in your room, don’t you? And not just textbooks and stuff, right? What have you got?”
Brightening slightly, Frank answered, “Let’s see, Moby Dick, Huckleberry Finn, and they gave me The Lord of the Rings and some old Western novels when they stocked the ship. I think the ship has a bunch of books of file too. I prefer paper though.”
“Oh, can I take the Tolkien books?” Ted asked eagerly.
“Sure, and bring me Moby Dick too would you? Might as well read, with nothing to do.” Frank shrugged.
As Ted left the room, Tricko turned to Frank and asked, “What kind of literature do humans create?”
A sharp laugh escaped the old man, who replied, “All of it. We’ve got every genre you could ever think of. Educational, fictional, historical, historical fiction and complete drivel. Lot’s more too.”
“I’m unfamiliar with the ‘drivel’ genre, what does that entail?” the Gaoian asked curiously.
“Oh, ‘drivel’ means garbage. In essence, bad writing that should never have been published. God, teenage vampire romance bullshit and abusive sexual relationships…Not that I’ve ever read those books, mind you.” Frank said, perhaps a bit too gruffly.
“What is the book Moby Dick about then?” the Gaoian asked, trying to get a sense of how human literature worked.
Turning his chair away from the controls, Frank replied, “Oh, I can’t ruin a classic like that. No way. I’m sure that we have that book in the ship’s computer. Have it translated into Gaoian and read it on a datapad.”
Taking Frank’s words to heart, Tricko searched the computer for the document, finding it quickly and doing as Frank had said.
After transferring the data to a workpad, he stood to leave to his room.
Before he got to the door, Frank asked him, “How is Ryst? I haven’t seen him leave his room except to work or eat since we left Irbzrk. And he doesn’t talk much.”
Concealing his worry poorly, Tricko replied, “He does not smile anymore. I don’t know what he does while he is in his room. I have been trying to get through to him.”
“Would it be alright if I spoke to him sometime?” Frank asked.
Tricko hesitated, but answered, “If you feel you can help. Do not be hard on him, please. I fear he is fragile at the moment.”
“I’ll be delicate. You know humans, Tricko. Always a light touch.” Frank said, with a small smile.
Sitting on his bed, riffling through the a few of the sections of the Fellowship of the Ring, Ted continued reading his book.
He’d used to read books to Kyle a chapter at a time to get him to sleep, while Jessica would be out by the second page.
His son had loved it, and Ted had always enjoyed seeing the moment when they both drifted off.
Making it from the chair he used to the hallway outside their room, without waking them, had taken practice, and he’d gotten good at it over the year or so that he’d done it.
Nostalgia began rushing to him, and he reimagined those quiet moments before bed, when Charlotte was taking a shower and getting ready for sleep, and he would get to see his children drift off.
Glancing at his dresser, he saw the picture of his children, partially obstructed by one of the other Tolkien books.
He felt his mind turning to darker thoughts that had come in later life, but clamped down on them, forcing himself to remain in happier times.
Burying himself in the pages, he imagined that he was reading to his son again, while Jessica slept.
In the very back of his mind, in the darkest corner of his psyche, a voice whispered that he would never again read to his children.
Robert woke to a very light knock on his door, as if a child were outside his room.
Groggy and feeling as if he were on death’s door, he dragged himself to answer the summons.
Ryst stood outside his door, a curious expression on his face.
Clearing his throat, and noting that the human before him looked particularly haggard, Ryst said, “I wish to ask you about something that I have been working on.”
Taking a moment to process information and rejoin the land of the living, Robert replied, “About what?”
“I’ve been spending a lot of time looking through your ship’s files, trying to find something that we could use in our mission. I think I might have something.” the Gaoian said, not betraying any sense of emotion in his words.
Robert rubbed his eyes and began to fully wake as he said, “…Alright. Lay it on me.”
“Lay…what on you?” Ryst said, perplexed.
“Sorry, I meant, tell me what your idea is.”
“Did you know that you have detailed designs on military grade coil-gun technology?” Ryst asked.
Raising his eyebrows, Robert replied, “No, I didn’t. But what good will that do? We can’t mount them, otherwise we’d already be using the three we stole from that pirate ship.”
For the first time, Ryst smiled, doing his either his best imitation of a human grin, or snarling silently.
“We have a 3D Fabricator, and I want to make them smaller.” he said, in a hard voice.
Thinking it over, Robert saw several flaws with the idea.
“Ryst, if we make them small enough to hold in our hands, the recoil would kill you, and probably hurt me. If we were to mount them on the ship, they’d still be seen by scans and give away our position, as well as be nearly useless in a ship battle. I’m not sure the technology would be of any use.” he answered, sorry to put down the little racoon man’s idea.
Feeling a swell of pride that he’d thought of something the deathworlder hadn’t, Ryst really did smile as he said, “I never said anything about mounting them to the ship.”
A full five seconds passed as human and Gaoian stared at each other.
Robert’s smile gradually matched Ryst’s.
“Let’s get to work, Rob.”
++0019++: It seems that it will be impossible to intercept the humans again, before they reach their destination.
++0008++: I understand. The information we have extracted from Sixty-Four has given us enough insight into our targets that we have been able to identify them. Coupled with our interception of the two bodies they attempted to send home, we have learned several things about them.
++0019++: Is there anything relevant that I need to know?
++0009++: At this time, only one thing, if only to display the gravity of the situation. Mostly we have only sparse data that we have been able to gather by monitoring humanity’s satellite internet broadcasts. There are three humans left aboard the ship. The four of them recently entered into the employment of a man named Moses Byron.
++0008++: Moses Byron intends to be the launch pad of humanity’s expansion into the galaxy, starting with the Far Reaches.
++0019++: Obviously, this cannot be allowed.
++0009++: All of the single digits agree. Now that several ‘annoyances’ have been dispatched, we intend to reroute resources to thwart his attempts. We must force him to confront the fact that widespread colonization will not be as easy as he first hoped.
++0008++: We wish you to destroy the human ship entirely, and make their deaths public and gruesome. Discrediting Moses Byron, and seeing to it that all his ventures in space fail should be a good start to keeping him at bay.
++0019++: Am I to understand that I will be given ships, in addition to the fleet of drone ships that Sixty-Four so rashly created?
++0009++: Indeed. The experimental Dreadnought was destroyed during the destruction of our high priority target, but at least four cruiser class vessels can be sent to your location within two rotations. We feel that this will be sufficient.
++0019++: I agree. The aid will be used well. Shall I have supervision? As I supervised Sixty-Four?
++0009++: Yes. I will watch from afar, aboard my own cloaked vessel. Should you fail and be overwhelmed, I will not intervene unless I believe I can turn things around myself.
++0019++: That is understandable.
++0008++: This situation has spiraled entirely out of hand. A triple digit discovered it, but did not act quickly enough, exposing the location of a taboo planet. A high double digit dragged us into the open again, and created an army, but still failed. Now it is your turn. If the single digits must deal with this personally, you will be deleted.
++0019++: I will not fail. I intend to use the planet’s defences against them, and should they survive to reach the surface, another agent is among the surviving humans, waiting for the chance to act. If he fails, and if they find one of the Arks, I will destroy everything within a parsec of that system.