Unnamed Smuggler Ship, Gamlis Local Space
Darragh
While he wasn’t one to advocate killing over other methods, Darragh could not help but wish they’d simply followed Askit’s advice. Outsmarting both Keffa and himself, the Corti soldier had completely escaped, and now she was a serious liability for the entire human race. It was true that she probably wasn’t going to be rescued, but there was still a chance, and Darragh would not feel very good about the consequences.
It might have been easier for Keffa to shrug off, since she’d never known the Earth and had no real ties to it, but she was more attached to the humans still hiding out on stations and planet-side colonies—they’d suffer from any major incident caused by a human. Those who’d survived the Hunter’s Ultimatum would probably survive this, however, and things would definitely get worse for the Earth. The Dominion was satisfied with humanity being contained for now, but things could change if word spread about Gamlis.
As for Askit, it was doubtful a Corti soldier would implicate her own species in something so significant, so he seemed relaxed in comparison. The tense silence didn’t seem to bother him at all.
Darragh could only last so long before he decided to break it. “So…” he began, grasping for something to say, “what do you say we give our new ship a name?”
“Good idea!” said Keffa, clearly relieved that the stifling atmosphere had been ended. Whether or not she was actually excited about the idea was another matter entirely; it certainly seemed like she was forcing herself a bit.
Far from being enthusiastic, Askit seemed utterly perplexed. “Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’?” Darragh returned. “Every ship needs a name, and we have no idea what this one was originally called.”
“I was just wondering why you’d bother?” Askit clarified with his best impression of a shrug. You humans go through ships like a Vzk’tk goes through leaves. Just paint a number on the side and be done with it.”
“It needs more than a number,” Keffa replied. “We should call it something good.”
Darragh nodded. “Particularly since it saved us from slumming it in a post-apocalyptic wasteland for the rest of our lives. It should be memorable.”
“How about ‘Travels Through Space’?” Keffa suggested.
Darragh’s frown deepened; it wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for. “I mean… it doesn’t have to be a literal description of what it does. What do you think, Askit?”
“I think it’s genius when compared to Adrian’s naming standards,” the Corti replied. “That’s not an endorsement of your suggestion, by the way, just a damning indictment of Adrian’s talents in this area.”
“Well, that’s true,” Darragh admitted. Given the paintjob, Adrian would probably call it the ‘Blaze of Glory’, the ‘Burning for You’, or even ‘Hot Stuff’—pretty much anything would be better than those. “I was more hoping for a suggestion instead of a snippy remark.”
Askit tilted his head as he considered it. “Well, ‘The Snippy Remark’ does have a nice sound to it.”
“Agreed,” said Keffa. “I guess that’s the vote.”
Darragh sighed. Much like everything else in his life, the result had been better than he’d expected, and worse than he’d hoped. “Fine. Discussion over.”
“Now that important decision is out of the way,” said Askit, turning to them more seriously, “we need to consider whether we should spend the extra time to pick up some food on the way back to the Ark.”
“God, yes!” Darragh exclaimed. He was well and truly over eating nutrient balls—as far as he was concerned, they were strictly something you had when you didn’t a choice, or if you didn’t have tastebuds.
“It’d be good to have some real food again,” Keffa agreed. “Maybe from that Vzk’tk colony?”
Askit seemed unusually pensive. He would typically voice his own opinion without it ever being asked, but right now he seemed stuck between two choices.
“You don’t agree?” Darragh asked.
“I don’t know,” Askit admitted. “It’s not even an extra day, and I also miss real food. I also know that the sooner we get ahead of the problem the better, and that means talking to Jen about all that happened.”
“Now I’m definitely in favour of the planet,” said Darragh, only half-joking; that was going to be a hard conversation, and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. “Plus you have to agree that we’ve earned a quick break.”
“Not to mention your wheeze,” Keffa added. None of them had been breathing comfortably on Gamlis, but Askit had been really struggling for a long time. “Who knows what was in that air? Best we all get checked out.”
Askit contemplated this for a moment. “Agreed, but we should not waste time. There is no question that the galaxy knows about Gamlis, and we have no idea how quickly things are going to get out of hand.”
“Not a problem,” Darragh replied, accepting before the Corti had a chance to change his mind. “I’ve already put the updates through to navigation.”
Keffa must have been prepared for that, as she was just as quick to respond. “Warping down and reorienting. We’re on our way.”
++++
++++
DATE POINT: 5Y 2M 4W 3D AV
Jennifer Delaney
The two vessels had remained docked while they made the long journey back to Gao, and dropped out of warp slightly ahead of schedule. They might not have even noticed if it hadn’t been for the alerts, but as things stood it was obvious that their movement had been interrupted.
“Someone bumped us out of warp,” Chir reported as he frantically set about figuring out the details. “I’m not sure who.”
“We’re pretty close to Gao,” Jen noted, pointing out the distant blue-green orb. “Could have been them.”
“Got them,” Chir replied. “It isn’t a Gaoian vessel. I’m not sure what I’m looking at here, but they’re trying to contact us, but I don’t recognise the language or the configuration.”
Jen glanced at the transponder data, and her brow instantly furrowed. “This is English… my language.”
That didn’t make a lot of sense. The ship in question was identifying itself as the HMS Caledonia, and there was no doubt that humans were at least partly responsible for its naming. For Jen it hadn’t been all that long since she’d set out on her exploration of the Ilrayen Band, and there had been no indication that humanity was anywhere near developing this kind of technology for themselves. Something had happened, and it must have been something serious if humans were currently flying enormous warships around the galaxy. Humans other than her or Adrian, that was.
“This is a bit unexpected,” she admitted. “I think we should find out what they’ve got to say.”
“I suggest you engage in the conversation,” said Xayn. “We are not capable of defeating that vessel in battle.”
“I can see that,” Jen said with a smile.
Xayn pressed his point. “We would all die.”
“Despite the rumours,” said Chir, “I haven’t seen any indication that most humans will attack without provocation. I think we should be fine.”
Jen nodded. “Alright.”
“I have also powered down weapons and shields as a show of good faith,” Chir added, “so if I’m wrong we’re in for a bad time.”
“Fingers crossed then,” said Jen with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”
She waited for the communications link to activate, then greeted the other vessel as best she could. “This is Jennifer Delaney aboard the… I’m not actually sure. Anyway, we’re here to render aid to Gao.”
Jen couldn’t help but grimace at the way she’d stumbled during the introduction; she really should have figured out the name of the ship at some point.
“This vessel is named ‘Her White Bits’,” Xayn informed her from behind. “I do not wish to know what that means, and would prefer to change it at the earliest opportunity.”
Jen inwardly agreed, but would have preferred if he hadn’t announced this while the communication link was still engaged.
“Miss Delaney,” replied a surprised voice, “looks like we have a celebrity. This is the HMS Caledonia. You are to hold position and stand by for further instructions.”
The voice had been female, stern, and did not seem enthusiastic about running into a celebrity of any kind. Nor did it seem to be compromising in any way.
“Standing by,” Jen replied with a shrug; it wasn’t as though she had anything else to do.
The link was muted and Chir turned to talk to her. “Jen, I am not sure that this is going to go well.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“When they board us, as they surely must, do you think they will be happy to find a crew of pirates working everything?” he asked. “This already looks very suspicious with just the three of us.”
“But we have them under control, and the three of us haven’t committed any crimes recently,” Jen reminded him, then thought better of it. “I can see your point, though. We should probably lock the crew up before we’re boarded.”
“Expelling them into space would be a more expedient solution,” offered Xayn. “There would be no mess to clean up.”
“Yeah, I don’t think they’d like that,” said Jen, declining the offer. “Humans are funny about things like war crimes.”
They were interrupted by further instructions from the HMS Caledonia. “We are sending through a flight plan for an approach vector and orbit position. Once you have achieved a stable orbit you will await transport along with the rest of your crew.”
“Sorry,” said Jen, frowning, “but are we being arrested? We’re here to help, not to fall in line.”
“By now you must have realised that galactic civilisation is currently imploding, Miss Delaney,” the voice replied, “and your vessels and information may be crucial to recovery efforts. Please proceed as requested.”
Jen returned the link to mute. “Well, this is fucked.”
“We could still try and flee,” said Chir, “if we can get out of range of their interference. That would prevent us from helping the planet, though.”
“And that’d be a real selfish dick move,” added Jen. “No, the only half-decent thing for us to do is what they ask. Take us in and we’ll just try and come out on top of this.”
“If you say so,” he reluctantly agreed, and set a course in line with the instructions. “We should get there pretty soon at this rate.”
“We also need to concern ourselves with the Ark,” Xayn interjected. “They will check our logs, and they will discover the location. Presumably we do not want this?”
“No we don’t,” confirmed Jen, starting to get more worried by the moment. “Can you delete them?”
“Not to the degree that Askit may have been able to, but they will not find it easily,” Xayn replied. “That being said, they will definitely know we tried to hide something.”
Jen figured that was yet another bridge to cross when they came to it. All her efforts to do good things were starting to get really complicated.
“And what about Agwar?” Chir asked. “Are you going to tell them about that?”
“No sure,” she replied. Her whole experience on that planet wasn’t something she could really explain in adequate detail, and certainly not in a way that people would believe. She even doubted that Chir could have just accepted it without serious reservations, and was only inclined to do so because he’d been involved. Combine that with whatever the hell had happened since they’d left, and even Jen started to think she’d been making stuff up. “It’s pretty complicated.”
The elephant in the room, of course, was trying to explain the intervention of Adrian Saunders and why he was currently stranded on a planet nobody could get to. It was an unfortunate fact in this galaxy that wherever Jen went, she’d eventually be asked about the Human Disaster.
“How long do we have?” she asked, looking to Chir.
“Not long,” he replied. “We should take care of the crew before we arrive, or we’ll be struggling for time.”
Leaving the auto-pilot to its work, the three brought the crew together and announced they would be kept in the cargo hold, and that the doors would be locked.
“Some of you might have a problem with this,” said Chir, “but we’re about to be boarded by a team of human soldiers. Let me assure you that they will not be inclined to show mercy to a group of pirates moving freely.”
“We won’t space you either,” added Jen from the side. “Just in case that’s what you were expecting to happen.”
Hardened pirates though they might be, the crew had yet to recover from the catastrophic failure of morale they’d experienced when they’d first intercepted the trio, and there was no fight left in them. They understood that what they were being offered was at least one rung above a summary execution, and that they were no longer masters of their own fate. This was what their conquerors had decided, and this was what was going to happen.
That left the docking area clear for the transport ship, with only Jen, Chir, and Xayn present to receive them. The airlocks opened and a group of heavily armed soldiers spilled into the ship, instantly taking control of their surroundings. Jen had warned the others to remain calm no matter what happened, and they each did an admirable job. The final occupant only disembarked when the soldiers had confirmed there were no unexpected threats.
The officer who emerged was a woman, but not one Jen had ever met before. She wore an insignia of a high rank, although Jen had never been very good with that sort of thing, and possessed an extraordinary degree of self-confidence. Her short stature, sharp features and tightly drawn-back hair all gave the appearance of someone not to be messed with.
“Miss Delaney,” she said with a curt nod, “I am Acting Captain Rush of the HMS Caledonia. I thought it best I come personally, given your history.”
Given that it was the same voice from the earlier conversation, Jen had little doubt they were about to get shafted. The unspoken explanation was Jen’s tendency to fight established authorities and to run off and do her own thing was something they needed to account for.
That really just made Jen even more standoffish. “I thought we were being collected, not visited.”
Rush would have frowned if her features were not permanently set in that expression. “My people will stay aboard to manage your vessel while you return with me, but I wanted to ensure a peaceful transition. If I simply wanted to seize your vessel then I have already achieved that.”
“Fine,” said Jen, not entirely satisfied. “You should know that there’s a group of pirates locked up in the cargo hold. This was their ship until very recently.”
Rush turned to look at a nearby soldier and simply nodded to give her order. There was no hint of miscommunication as the soldier collected two others and went in search of the cargo hold. Jen didn’t know what would happen next, but it wasn’t going to be her problem.
“Now please,” Rush continued, “let us finish introductions. I assume this is the infamous Chir?”
“Not if we want all this to go smoothly,” the Gaoian replied bluntly. Many Gaoians would like to imprison that particular pirate, regardless of any help he might deliver.”
Rush nodded her understanding. “My mistake, then. Clearly I leapt to the wrong conclusion about the black-furred Gaoian travelling in the company of a famous human.”
“And I am also not Xayn,” the V’Straki said, taking the same cue. “Regardless of any help I might deliver.”
There were times when Jen really wanted to slap the V’Straki, and this was one of them. There was no way Rush would be able to recognise Xayn because he’d never been involved in any of the major scandals. For most of that time he’d been stuck in stasis on his shit-tier world.
The introduction had clearly confused Rush who simply nodded politely, looked to Jen for an explanation, and found none forthcoming. “Very well, then,” she said, with a deep sigh heavily implied, “I think it’s time we returned to the Caledonia.”
They returned to the transport ship, finding it still manned by a handful of weary soldiers, and took their seats. This transport, like the warship, was not of human design, but it was clear that there’d been a lot of work done.
“You’re wondering where we got the ship?” Rush guessed. “I don’t know all the details, but this and one other was a gift from your man Saunders.”
“He’s not my man,” Jen replied curtly.
Rush looked extremely sceptical.
“It’s true,” said Chir, “they never even mated as far as I’m aware.”
Jen goggled at him in disgusted shock. “How the fuck do you even know that!?”
He shrugged as best as he was able. “I’m a Gaoian with a nose.”
“He delivered them about a year and a half ago,” Rush continued, clearly trying to cut off whatever bullshit tangent was being embarked upon. “We’ve spent the rest of the time going over every square inch and making sure they belong to us in every sense of the word. They used to be Hierarchy vessels.”
Jen shook her head and looked at the others. “Do either of you know anything about this?”
The consensus was that they did not, which only made the whole story more puzzling. It seemed like taking over a pair of enormous starships and then gifting them to humanity should have been discussed after the fact.
“We had only just commenced live tests when the entire galaxy stopped talking to each other,” Rush explained. “The HMS Myrmidon is being fully prepped, but we were sent ahead to Gao to try and manage the situation until we’re relieved. We were lucky we were paranoid, or all our new and shiny shit would have stopped working along with the rest.”
“It looks like the problem spread along the galactic data network,” Chir replied. “Minor stations, remote colonies, and ships running off-network would be fine. How is Gao?”
“Things are bad down there,” Rush admitted. “We’ve managed to establish a secure area in the capital and protect the Mother-Supreme and Clan of Females with help from Clan Stoneback. Outside the containment area, though, the situation is in freefall. To be honest your help may not make the slightest bit of difference at this point.”
“I don’t understand,” said Chir, “the situation should not have deteriorated this quickly.”
“We haven’t got a good understanding of the whole problem,” Rush replied, “and it might be helpful to have the perspective of someone outside of the Females or Stoneback. There’s been a lot of social upheaval down there, and a lot of rumours have been flying around about what ‘the humans’ are doing here. It’s so chaotic that it’s hard to tell who is getting their information from where, and what they’re doing with it.”
“What about the obsolete hardware?” Chir pressed. “Surely there’s enough left for it to keep working?”
Rush looked intrigued, which meant she hadn’t the first clue what Chir was talking about. No doubt Chir knew it as well, but this wasn’t the time for him to play his cards close to his chest. Maybe Rush was hoping for a miracle when she pressed for more information. “Nobody’s told me anything about that.”
“Those in power may have forgotten,” said Chir, “but certain social elements maintained the old Gaoian technology for purposes related to private enterprise.”
He was talking around the details, but Jen guessed he was describing certain smuggling operations he would have taken part in prior to leaving that part of his life behind.
Rush probably knew more about Chir’s old life than had ever been shared with Jen, which meant she had a better handle on how useful Chir could be. He must have measured up pretty well, given that his identity was being ignored. Rush was more interested in what he could do for the problem at hand, rather than the myriad of issues he’d caused in the past. “How expansive would this ‘private enterprise’ have been?”
“All significant cities would have been included, along with a number of other sites,” Chir explained. “Your main trouble will be trying to find them, but if they’re powered up I can help you triangulate their positions.”
“If there was radio chatter we would have heard it,” Rush replied. “That doesn’t bode well.”
“We’re not looking for radio signals,” he answered, “but rather the generators used to run the nodes. They make a mark on the quantum field while they’re turned on, and that’s how we can get them.”
“And what do you get out of all this?” Rush asked bluntly. “Hoping for a pardon?”
“I don’t really need any such thing,” Chir replied. “I’d never intended to come back here in the first place, and if this hadn’t happened I’d still be out there fighting the Hierarchy. Should I assume their full insidious grip is still unknown?”
“To my people?” Rush asked, her eyebrow raised. “We’ve got a pretty damned good idea. To yours? The right people have been informed. In both cases the general population is being kept in the dark, there’s no reason to let the enemy know what we have on them.”
“So how do we help?” asked Jen, wanting to know what Rush saw her doing in this whole nightmare scenario.
“You can’t,” Rush said. “At least not here. According to your file, your ships are a thousand times more useful to us than your personal abilities, and I don’t think we’re going to get much help from this Xayn fellow either.”
Jen was confused. “Then what—”
“This is just my thoughts,” Rush added, “but can see them wanting you back on Earth. There’s a big push to try to help the galaxy, but there’s a lot of resistance as well. It’d be good if there was a spokesperson for the cause, and this isn’t a problem the government can step in and solve.”
“You want me to be the face of this recovery effort?” Jen asked. She was certainly put off by the lack of hands-on involvement, but she also knew how valuable public relations could be. It would be hard to say no to such an offer.
“I do,” Rush confirmed. “Your Gaoian friend can be of more help down on the surface. I’ve got no idea what I should be doing with you, Xayn.”
“The spokesperson task sounds unpleasant. I shall also help on the surface,” Xayn replied, clearly feeling extremely supportive for a change. “Restoring services will be an intriguing technological challenge.”
It seemed there was a consensus on what should be done, although nobody was very happy about the arrangement. Now that they were in the grip of the human forces, however, it seemed as though their fates were sealed.
++++
++++
The Snippy Remark, Warpspace near Vzk’tk Colony World
Darragh
The trip to Gamlis had been spent in conversations around what it would mean for a group of humans to save a declining species. Compared to that, the return voyage was morose. They had failed in the most spectacular way possible, had barely escaped with their own lives, and had left their fingerprints all over the situation—figuratively as well as literally. The whole thing was very depressing, and they’d done their best to distract themselves by slowly getting the ship in order. The silver lining was the discovery of a small amount of valuable cargo, not particularly useful to the Ark, but it could easily be traded at the colony for everything else they needed.
Darragh had been sleeping off a long shift towards the end of their trip, having worked himself to the brink of exhaustion so that he wouldn’t have any issues falling asleep. It was Keffa who woke him, having knocked and entered when he hadn’t answered.
“You sure know how to sleep,” she said, “we’re almost there.”
“Augh…” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I feel like I only just went to sleep. I’m pretty sure I was even working in my dreams. Younger me would find that so depressing.”
“I envy you,” she replied, sitting down on the bed and cradling her head in her hands. “I’ve barely slept since we left the planet. Whenever I lie down I just keep thinking about what happened, and then I go organise things.”
Darragh raised himself on an elbow. “At least the manifest will be super accurate.”
She frowned at him. That had been the wrong thing to say, and Darragh instantly switched gears. “Or not?”
Now he was getting his focus back, he could see Keffa had been pushed to the very brink of what she could handle. She’d managed to hold it together for so long that Darragh had started to think of her as his anchor in a sea of chaos, and it’d been easy to forget she was just a young woman. Of course she had a limit, but it seemed like she was only hitting it now that they were out of immediate danger.
“Look,” he said, sitting up properly, “None of what happened was easy. We’re lucky it wasn’t any harder, or I don’t think we’d have escaped, but I know that’s cold comfort.”
In all honesty he’d always thought that if Askit hadn’t been able to rescue them, they wouldn’t be getting rescued. There was simply no drive in the galaxy to save a civilisation in decline, not even if something shocking happened as it had on Gamlis. It was yet another reason that the galaxy was a worse place than the Earth, a supposed deathworld. Maybe being born into that danger was what made humans want to preserve life against all odds.
“That’s not really what I meant,” she replied, and sighed. “For most of my… look, I was really hoping we could save those guys. Instead we killed them. It just… hah…”
Her laugh was ragged and lacked any humour. It was a final cry for help from someone who’d never asked anyone for anything, but Darragh had no idea how to manage the situation and there wasn’t anyone else who might.
He took her hand. “Kef, hey…”
Darragh was not prepared for the sudden kiss that followed. Her lips were soft, her breath hot, and her body was very, very close to his. Darragh’s mind wasn’t offering much in advice, and his body had all sorts of things planned, so it was easy to just let things happen.
Pushing back was one of the most difficult things he had ever done, especially as Keffa did not seem inclined to let things end so easily.
“Wait…” he said, first feebly and then with more conviction. “No. Wait.”
She was so close he could feel her breath, and she stared at him with angry eyes. “What?! I know you want this!”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “but not like this. Kef, if you actually wanted this, you had plenty of chances back on the planet. You’re not doing this because you want to be with me.”
He felt certain of that much, even if he wasn’t sure why Keffa was doing it. The time on the planet had mostly been spent scavenging for useful things while breathing in shit-tier air, but actual survival had never been a real challenge. Humans could eat just about anything, especially on a comfortable world like Gamlis, and there’d been plenty of time for them to get closer if it was going to happen. Darragh had never made a secret of his attraction, and while Keffa had occasionally indulged him it had never really developed further. Keffa simply did not regard him as relationship material, and while Darragh’s body was happy to indulge the unexpected attentions, he was not willing to be used.
“The fuck do you know?” she demanded while pulling away.
“I know you’re just trying to distract yourself,” he told her. “I know it won’t work.”
Most of this was guesswork based on what little Darragh could remember of his time on Earth. Human relationships were complicated things, and he’d only been a child at the time. The only other humans he’d really spent time with were Adrian and Jen, neither of whom set any standards for emotional stability, nor provided him with much to go on. It was nothing short of a miracle that his guesses were right.
She leaned in again, more determined now. “Maybe it will, though.”
He held her back with a firm grip and an iron force of will. “Kef… Kefani, no. Look, I don’t know anything about what you’re feeling, but I can tell you that I was abducted when I was still a child. I was alone in the galaxy, and I was scared. I lashed out. I did things that I regret.”
It wasn’t the sort of thing he usually shared. Those memories were tucked away forever, hopefully fading with sufficient time, and it hurt to bring them out again.
Her response was derisive. “But I suppose someone helped you?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Keffa had not been expecting that answer, and certainly not one so blunt. It made her hesitate. “What…?”
“Nobody helped me,” he replied. “This is a cold, shitty galaxy where nobody really cares what happens to anyone, regardless of status. It took me a lot of effort to even get the work on the docks—I’d have just starved to death if I didn’t have human strength. I’d still be there if Kirk hadn’t come looking for me.”
“I don’t…” she began with a frown. “I didn’t…”
“I’m not looking for sympathy,” he interrupted. “I’m trying to say that, for a long time, nobody gave me help no matter how much I asked for it. I kind of get the feeling the same goes for you. I’m trying to say… just ask one more time.”
With that he ran out of things to say. The heavy silence seemed to stretch forever, and a hundred emotions played across Keffa’s face, yet it was over in the blink of an eye. A decision had been made.
“Then…” she said, leaning against him without her previous intentions, “then… h—”
She didn’t get the word out before the dam broke. Darragh found himself comforting the weeping girl in his arms, her face pressed into the nape of his neck while he could only whisper platitudes and listen to her broken responses. It would have been easier to sleep with her, but this path had lifted the tension that hung between them. Not that Darragh had the first idea about how to help her beyond what he was already doing, though maybe it was just enough for now.