Quarto
Unknown Enemy
Ok, here we go again. Like last time, this is a chapter that has not been edited very much, so expect mistakes. Report them all.
Hmm. So, is there anything else I need to say? I guess not. I'm sure you'll ask if you're confused about something
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V. Catch of the Day.
With a dull clang, the locking mechanism finally completed the rotation, and the airlock opened into darkness. Briefly, one of the ceiling lights flickered. The room was small, serving only as a secondary airlock for the Drayman.
As Paladin slowly propelled himself into the room, his suit’s light illuminated the area. The room was totally empty, with just two exits – the airlock being one of them.
Taggart glanced at his suit’s info display. “Atmosphere’s breathable.” He reported, even as he took of the helmet. “Faugh…” He added. “But this air is stale…”
“I whill join yho nhaw.” He heard Rhe’dhi’s voice through the comms.
“Of course, lad. Come on in.” It had been decided that Paladin would not be exploring the Drayman alone. After all, there was no way of knowing what they might find.
As he waited for Rhe’dhi, he wondered yet again what had happened to the Drayman. Back in the days when he still flew a fighter, he often found himself escorting these lumbering freighters. He had seen a few explode under Kilrathi fire, too. However, this – this did not look like it had been damaged in combat.
But if not in combat, then how did it take damage? Accident, perhaps?
The lights flickered again. At least there was power, then. But the life support must be failing, he thought, seeing steam coming out of his mouth. Soon it’ll be as cold as the vacuum in here.
At last, he saw Rhe’dhi flow into the room. The lack of artificial gravity was another indication of the state this ship was in.
“It iss khold hheer.” Rhe’dhi said, as he took off his helmet.
And he’s got fur on his face, Paladin thought. “Aye, lad.” He said aloud. “If there’s anybody alive in here, we’re only barely in time. But… keep yer weapon ready. We may not like what we find.” He also drew his pistol. A rescue with guns, he thought. But such are the times we live in.
He glided over to the door, and pressed the button that should have opened it. Nothing. It looked as though they would have to open it manually. He set himself against the door, and then started turning the handle. It refused to move, obviously rusted over through misuse.
“Allhowh mhe.” Rhe’dhi finally said.
“Be my guest, laddie.” Paladin moved out of the way.
Rhe’dhi approached the door. He took off his gloves, and put his furred hand on the handle. As he gripped the handle, James thought he saw a glint of light reflecting off the Kilrathi’s claws.
At first nothing happened, but slowly the handle started turning, with a screech of tortured metal. Bit by bit, it turned faster. By the time the first revolution was completed, most of the rust had scraped itself off. Quite smoothly now, the handle completed the second revolution.
“Whee mayh prroceedh.” Rhe’dhi gestured, towards the door which was now slightly ajar.
James grinned. “Thank ye.” He pushed himself towards the door. As he approached it, he couldn’t help but to give the handle a look. There were three deep holes along the top of it, and another along the bottom. Paladin looked back at Rhe’dhi’s claws with new respect. The Kilrathi hand may have one less finger than a human’s, but it is certainly no less useful.
Carefully, Paladin peered out through the door. The corridor beyond was much better lit than the room they were leaving. There were ceiling lights all along the corridor, and most of them seemed to be working. The place appeared to be used more frequently, and…
“My God!” Colonel Taggart exclaimed.
“Whath?” Rhe’dhi demanded, sticking his head out into the corridor.
Near one of the doors that ended the corridor, a man floated motionless. They could not see his face, but the skin on his hands had the greyish tinge that told them he was dead. As if to remove any doubts, there was an aura of bloody gel hovering about his head.
* * *
“Another?” Paladin’s voice came through the comm system. Weaver turned his head towards the Drayman. He had been listening to Rhe’dhi and the Colonel through the Ferret’s comm systems. As he listened, he circled idly above the freighter.
“Inhdheedh.”
“Like the others? Gunshot in the back of the head?”
“Yhess. Hhee hhad no chanss.”
Dammit. Whoever cleaned out that ship sure was bloody efficient, Weaver thought. So far, they’d found four corpses. And each man had died in the same way. A single shot. Did they even know what was about to happen, when they were attacked?
“I don’t know who did it,” Talon called in from the Krak’ni’hra. “But it sure as hell wasn’t the Kilrathi. Not their style.”
* * *
Opening another door, Paladin peered in. In this section of the old freighter, life support systems seemed to be working slightly better; the temperature was almost bearable. If there is anybody alive here, James thought, I should run into him soon.
But was that a good thing? With each new corpse, Paladin became more apprehensive about this ship. And if, like Talon said, it wasn’t the Kilrathi, then who? Suddenly, his sidearm didn’t seem good enough.
What’s in here, then? He wondered, as he pulled himself through the door, his gun held in front of him, ready to fire.
“Dammit!” He swore. “That’s the fifth!”
“Another body, sir?” He heard Weaver’s voice.
“Aye, lad.” Even to himself, Paladin sounded depressed. Certainly, this wasn’t what he had expected to find on the battered ship. “But… wait a second.”
He slowly approached the dead man. Were his eyes deceiving him? And if not, what did it mean?
But his eyes did not deceive him. This man did not die like the others. There were several deep-looking gashes on his chest. The expression frozen on this man’s face indicated that he at least, did not die without facing his attacker.
“Colonel? What’s going on?”
“He wasn’t shot! He was stabbed.”
“Hhow?” Rhe’dhi asked. “Lhayk Kilrathi khlaws?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe knife wounds… Wait… I just heard something.”
Quietly, Paladin turned around. This door should lead to the bridge. He glided towards it, holding the gun in readiness. Elsewhere, Weaver held his breath, and Rhe’dhi abandoned his inspection of the cargo hold, moving as quickly as he could towards Taggart’s section of the freighter.
“I’m going into the bridge.” Paladin whispered into the mike. He pulled himself up towards the ceiling of the room. Lack of gravity has it’s advantages, he thought as he finally stopped above the doorway. Aiming his weapon straight down – so he would be able to hit anybody coming out – he reached down with his other hand and pressed the button that would open the door.
The moment the door started opening, somebody opened fire. As he saw the streaks of energy pass through the door below, Paladin was all too glad that he had maintained the presence of mind to get above the doorway.
The gunfire continued. Obviously, the person – or persons – was firing blindly, without noticing the absence of his target.
Several more seconds passed, and then silence. Or rather, near-silence, Paladin thought with satisfaction as he heard the clicks punctuating the air. Out of ammo.
Time to act, he decided. Using the top of the doorframe as a handhold, he flipped down towards the floor, his gun aimed into the bridge.
Finally, he saw his attacker. A youngish-looking man was staring in surprise at him. He was still holding a pistol in his hands, nerveless fingers pressed down on the trigger.
“Don’t move!” James yelled as the man recovered from shock. “Drop the gun!”
The young man quickly complied. “I… I didn’t know who you are…” he started explaining. “I saw the Kilrathi ship, and I thought…”
There’s something wrong about him, Paladin thought. After many years of experience, he could usually size up a person’s character in only a few moments. But is it that he’s not telling the truth, or just not telling the whole truth? “Who are ye?”
“Uh…” he hesitated. “Pete… Pete Browning…”
“Well, Pete, ye’ve got a lotta explaining to do.” Hearing the quiet clang of someone bouncing off a wall, James risked a quick glance behind him. It was the Kilrathi. “Rhe’dhi, lead him back to the Broadsword.”
“Yhess.” Rhe’dhi replied. He moved forward and grabbed Pete by his arm.
Paladin watched carefully as Rhe’dhi pushed the man out of the bridge. He caught a brief glimpse of the expression on Pete’s face.
In that face, there was fear – but it was not the fear of the Kilrathi’s powerful arms. It was something else. James recalled very well how he felt when he first met with a Kilrathi face to face. To say that he was scared would be an understatement. He had been terrified. And he knew that most people were. What about this man then?
He must have met the Kilrathi before.
* * *
“All done, Colonel.” Weaver announced. Through the window, Paladin could see him moving back towards the airlock. “The Scim’s fuelled up and ready to go. But why are we taking this piece of junk?”
James grinned. Piece of junk… he had flown most of his career on the Scimitars. It was a funny sort of ship. Even when it was state of the art, many pilots hated it. Back on the Tiger’s Claw, there was Iceman. He absolutely detested it. But then, Iceman always went for the lighter, more manoeuvrable craft – the artists’ ships.
Personally though, James liked the Scimitar even with all of its inadequacies. And this one had a jump drive, he thought, as he turned back to the ship outside the window. It wasn’t exactly the sleekest design – particularly not now, with the lousy job somebody had done adding on the jump drive – but in its own way, it was a great looking craft.
“You never know what might come in useful, lad.” Paladin spoke into the radio. “Besides, if you’re going to take as much damage as you did the first time, we’ll run out of spare parts for the Ferret in no time.”
“I don’t intend to do so, sir.” Weaver’s voice came from behind him. Darn, that boy moves fast, James thought as he turned around. Indeed, the young Lieutenant had already gotten through the airlock, and here he was.
“I’m glad ta hear that, laddie. And I was glad to see you fly with your wingmate this time.”
Lawrence smiled, a wry sort of smile. “You both gave me a lot to think about. I still haven’t quite figured it all out yet.” He frowned. “Right now… all I know is that we’re in this together.”
“Right now, lad, that’s all ye need to know. The rest will come in time. Well, shall we leave this ship then?”
Weaver grinned. “I’m your wingman.” He pushed himself away from the wall, and headed towards the airlock where his Ferret was docked.
Paladin was also grinning. It wouldn’t be much – just a minute or two – but it was for real. His mind was reeling with joy as he pulled himself through the airlock, and into the cabin of the Scimitar. He strapped himself into the seat, and switched on the engines. Behind him, he could hear the shield generator powering up. God, it felt good to be back in the cockpit!
“Ready to go, boy?” Paladin spoke into the helmet mike.
“I’m ahead of you… granddad.” Weaver’s voice came through.
The tiny Ferret raced right past the Scim’s nose.
“Granddad… why, ye little scamp!” Paladin laughed. “I’ll show ye what a granddad can do!” He put the engines into full thrust, and kicked in the afterburners. The Scimitar’s burners left a charred mark on the Drayman as he charged forward, after the Ferret. It only took him seconds to catch up.
“I see that machine is still working… but I’ve also got afterburners!” Weaver told him. And suddenly, the Ferret was ahead again.
“All right, laddie.” James replied, still chuckling. The sheer velocity was pushing him deep into the seat, and he couldn’t remember when he last felt that good. “Let’s head for the Kamekh. This little display of ours… it’s not fair to Talon.” Paladin sighed inwardly. If it had been possible, he’d have let Talon fly the Scim back to the Krak’ni’hra. It wasn’t though. “Rhe’dhi?” He added, looking around for the Broadsword. “Form on my wing, and let’s head on home.”
“Jasst ah sshek’nd. Whe Kilrathi do noth leev falhon khomrradess forr the en’my.”
He was right. Even these men, whether they were pirates or smugglers, perhaps even traitors, deserved a proper burial. And this was the only one they could get. He sighed. But it still didn’t seem right.
“Very well, Rhe’dhi. Fire.” He finally said.
A bright spark appeared beneath the Broadsword. It sped towards the now-deserted freighter.
The torpedo struck square into the ship’s power plant. A vast globe of fire rapidly enveloped the Drayman. It dissipated just as quickly, quenched by the empty vacuum. But now, all that remained of the freighter were the chunks of metal racing outwards – towards the stars.
From its ‘perch’, where it had been poised above the Drayman, the Broadsword dove towards them.
“Let’s get to the Kamekh, lads.” Paladin told them both. “We’ve got a jump to make.”
“And a prisoner to interrogate…” Weaver added quietly.
“We don’t know who he is, Weaver. I wouldna call him a prisoner just yet.”
“Maybe… but what would his dead friends call him?”
* * *
“Yes, I’ve had dealings with the Kilrathi. I’m a smuggler… but I’m no traitor!” Pete Browning was pleading. In his eyes, Lawrence could see the desperation. He thinks we’ll kill him, Weaver decided. Makes you wonder what he’d do if the situation was reversed.
His eyes wandered over to Paladin, who was sitting in front of their pris… guest. Colonel Taggart’s questions took on an interrogatory tone, and rightly so. The Drayman had been heading towards the Deneb jump point – into Kilrathi space. That’s enough to make anyone suspicious.
“All right. Let’s say I believe you. What about yer ship, and yer crewmates then? What happened?”
Pete sighed. Already, Weaver did not like this man. Something about him reminded him of Javelin. Besides, a smuggler who dealt with the enemy certainly would have no qualms about lying.
“We’d just entered… we’d just set the course for the jump point. The engines blew while powering up. A simple malfunction, but the chain reaction screwed them completely. We got a bit of a push from the explosion… we’ve been drifting at maybe ten kps. Took us several days, and we’d run out of supplies before we got here…”
Paladin stared at the man in shock. “Those men were executed… did you kill them? To preserve supplies?”
An odd look flickered across Browning’s face. A cornered beast, thought Weaver. “No!” Pete almost spat that word at them, in a hurry to clear this new charge. “Er… Jones did… but I was ready for him… I killed him when he came. But I was the last one left by then.”
“Jones… he was the man outside the bridge?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Colonel Taggart said, his face expressionless. “And then?”
“Then?” Pete looked down on the floor. “Then I waited… at least I had enough supplies for a while.”
“Yes, that you did.” Weaver threw in from where he was standing. The man looked up at him, as if detecting Lawrence’s complete lack of faith in his words. “What were you doing in Kilrathi territory?”
Browning’s eyes narrowed. “Am I a prisoner then, to be interrogated this way?” He gave Weaver another spiteful glance, and then turned back to Paladin.
“That remains to be determined.” James told him.
“Colonel Taggart, surely you don’t believe…” Weaver started.
“Believe him? He just admitted to being a smuggler and a murderer, though in self-defence. Does that sound like he’s lying?”
“But his ship was heading into Kilrathi space… they could have been Mandarins, for all we know!”
Paladin sighed. He too had such suspicions. However, experience told him that it is better not to accuse people of treason when trying to get information out of them. When inevitable execution looms above your head, you don’t really feel like cooperating. “Talon, how long till the jump point?”
“Two minutes, sir.”
“All right then. Weaver and Rhe’dhi, go to your ships. I know you must be exhausted by now, but none of us can rest until we get to the asteroid belt in Deneb. Be ready to undock the moment we complete the jump.”
“Sir…” Weaver started. “This man…”
“Lieutenant, that’s an order. We need you ready, in case there are enemy ships at the jump point.”
“Yes, Colonel.” Lawrence saluted him, and left the bridge, Rhe’dhi close behind.
* * *
“Does that guy seem as suspicious to you as he does to me?” Weaver asked as they approached the docking hatches.
“Indheedh.” Rhe’dhi replied. “Bhat hhe mmay alsso bhe usseful.”
“Maybe. I don’t believe a word he says, though.” Lawrence said, even as he dropped into the hatch.
Rhe’dhi watched in silence as the hatch sealed itself above Weaver’s head. The young Lieutenant was as distrustful as ever – but this time, Rhe’dhi agreed. Still, the Colonel surely knows what he’s doing. As he opened the hatch, he suddenly remembered that the Broadsword was at the elevator – the strange old fighter had taken up the second hatch. A Scimitar… relic from decades past. “You never know what might come in useful”, Paladin had told them. Perhaps there is truth in that. Then maybe, this man – this smuggler or traitor – could also be useful. He sighed. The Kilrathi did not betray. Sometimes, these humans are so difficult to comprehend. What a strange, strange species, he thought as he entered the elevator. So noble, and yet so base.
* * *
“So, what’s going to happen to me?” Browning asked, watching Weaver leave the room.
“After we return, we’ll hand you over to the authorities. If you cooperate with us now,” Paladin replied, putting stress on the ‘if’. “Then they’ll keep that in mind when they decide on your punishment.”
Hope briefly flickered across Pete’s face. It disappeared just as quickly, replaced by resolve. “You want information?”
“For a start, I’d like to know why you were heading into Deneb.”
“We had a meeting to attend to… in Tamayo system. Deneb was a shortcut.”
“A meeting?”
“To pick up some cargo.”
“Ah. So, you’d risk yourselves and the ship going through Kilrathi space just to get some cargo?”
Anger flashed in Pete’s eyes, but he controlled himself. “Times are tough. We had no choice. Look, I’m sure the… authorities… will extract all this from me soon enough. So, maybe you’d like to get to the point?”
Taggart forced the irritation away. “All right. What do you know of Kilrathi and Confed ships in Deneb?”
“If you think I’ve got Kilrathi contacts, you’re barking up the wrong tree. And my comms died a few hours before you got here, so all I know is what I picked up before then.”
“Which is?”
“Not very much.” Pete replied, a grim smile on his face. “I caught some Kilrathi broadcasts, but they were coded. And yesterday I even heard a Confed destroyer in Deneb… I guess you’re probably supposed to meet it, eh?”
Paladin ignored the question. “Did you get the destroyer’s location, then?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Browning replied all too quickly. “I even wrote it down. Never know when knowing might save your life…”
Like if you met the Kilrathi, James thought. “Let’s have it then.”
Browning pulled out a worn piece of paper from one of his pockets. There was a set of numbers scrawled on the paper in pencil.
“Talon, plot these on the map.” Paladin passed the paper to Captain Burkeheimer. “And what, Mr. Browning, might your excuse for knowing Confed codes be?”
“Like I said.” Pete grinned oddly. “Knowing can save your life.”
“Jim?” Said Hharak, who had been sitting at the console. “Whe arr rhe-dhi to jhamp.”
“All right. Initiate sequence then. And Talon, go and lock him up in the brig.” Paladin pointed at Pete. “He already knows enough.”
Talon got up, indicating that Browning should do the same.
Pete looked at him, then at James. Finally, with a show of reluctance he started getting up. “I guess I know all there is to know, anyway.” He gave the Colonel a mocking sort of salute as Talon led him out of the room.
Just then, the swirling blue tunnel opened up before them.
“Ready or not, here we come,” Paladin said to himself.
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And thus concludes another chapter. Start commenting.
Hmm. So, is there anything else I need to say? I guess not. I'm sure you'll ask if you're confused about something
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V. Catch of the Day.
With a dull clang, the locking mechanism finally completed the rotation, and the airlock opened into darkness. Briefly, one of the ceiling lights flickered. The room was small, serving only as a secondary airlock for the Drayman.
As Paladin slowly propelled himself into the room, his suit’s light illuminated the area. The room was totally empty, with just two exits – the airlock being one of them.
Taggart glanced at his suit’s info display. “Atmosphere’s breathable.” He reported, even as he took of the helmet. “Faugh…” He added. “But this air is stale…”
“I whill join yho nhaw.” He heard Rhe’dhi’s voice through the comms.
“Of course, lad. Come on in.” It had been decided that Paladin would not be exploring the Drayman alone. After all, there was no way of knowing what they might find.
As he waited for Rhe’dhi, he wondered yet again what had happened to the Drayman. Back in the days when he still flew a fighter, he often found himself escorting these lumbering freighters. He had seen a few explode under Kilrathi fire, too. However, this – this did not look like it had been damaged in combat.
But if not in combat, then how did it take damage? Accident, perhaps?
The lights flickered again. At least there was power, then. But the life support must be failing, he thought, seeing steam coming out of his mouth. Soon it’ll be as cold as the vacuum in here.
At last, he saw Rhe’dhi flow into the room. The lack of artificial gravity was another indication of the state this ship was in.
“It iss khold hheer.” Rhe’dhi said, as he took off his helmet.
And he’s got fur on his face, Paladin thought. “Aye, lad.” He said aloud. “If there’s anybody alive in here, we’re only barely in time. But… keep yer weapon ready. We may not like what we find.” He also drew his pistol. A rescue with guns, he thought. But such are the times we live in.
He glided over to the door, and pressed the button that should have opened it. Nothing. It looked as though they would have to open it manually. He set himself against the door, and then started turning the handle. It refused to move, obviously rusted over through misuse.
“Allhowh mhe.” Rhe’dhi finally said.
“Be my guest, laddie.” Paladin moved out of the way.
Rhe’dhi approached the door. He took off his gloves, and put his furred hand on the handle. As he gripped the handle, James thought he saw a glint of light reflecting off the Kilrathi’s claws.
At first nothing happened, but slowly the handle started turning, with a screech of tortured metal. Bit by bit, it turned faster. By the time the first revolution was completed, most of the rust had scraped itself off. Quite smoothly now, the handle completed the second revolution.
“Whee mayh prroceedh.” Rhe’dhi gestured, towards the door which was now slightly ajar.
James grinned. “Thank ye.” He pushed himself towards the door. As he approached it, he couldn’t help but to give the handle a look. There were three deep holes along the top of it, and another along the bottom. Paladin looked back at Rhe’dhi’s claws with new respect. The Kilrathi hand may have one less finger than a human’s, but it is certainly no less useful.
Carefully, Paladin peered out through the door. The corridor beyond was much better lit than the room they were leaving. There were ceiling lights all along the corridor, and most of them seemed to be working. The place appeared to be used more frequently, and…
“My God!” Colonel Taggart exclaimed.
“Whath?” Rhe’dhi demanded, sticking his head out into the corridor.
Near one of the doors that ended the corridor, a man floated motionless. They could not see his face, but the skin on his hands had the greyish tinge that told them he was dead. As if to remove any doubts, there was an aura of bloody gel hovering about his head.
* * *
“Another?” Paladin’s voice came through the comm system. Weaver turned his head towards the Drayman. He had been listening to Rhe’dhi and the Colonel through the Ferret’s comm systems. As he listened, he circled idly above the freighter.
“Inhdheedh.”
“Like the others? Gunshot in the back of the head?”
“Yhess. Hhee hhad no chanss.”
Dammit. Whoever cleaned out that ship sure was bloody efficient, Weaver thought. So far, they’d found four corpses. And each man had died in the same way. A single shot. Did they even know what was about to happen, when they were attacked?
“I don’t know who did it,” Talon called in from the Krak’ni’hra. “But it sure as hell wasn’t the Kilrathi. Not their style.”
* * *
Opening another door, Paladin peered in. In this section of the old freighter, life support systems seemed to be working slightly better; the temperature was almost bearable. If there is anybody alive here, James thought, I should run into him soon.
But was that a good thing? With each new corpse, Paladin became more apprehensive about this ship. And if, like Talon said, it wasn’t the Kilrathi, then who? Suddenly, his sidearm didn’t seem good enough.
What’s in here, then? He wondered, as he pulled himself through the door, his gun held in front of him, ready to fire.
“Dammit!” He swore. “That’s the fifth!”
“Another body, sir?” He heard Weaver’s voice.
“Aye, lad.” Even to himself, Paladin sounded depressed. Certainly, this wasn’t what he had expected to find on the battered ship. “But… wait a second.”
He slowly approached the dead man. Were his eyes deceiving him? And if not, what did it mean?
But his eyes did not deceive him. This man did not die like the others. There were several deep-looking gashes on his chest. The expression frozen on this man’s face indicated that he at least, did not die without facing his attacker.
“Colonel? What’s going on?”
“He wasn’t shot! He was stabbed.”
“Hhow?” Rhe’dhi asked. “Lhayk Kilrathi khlaws?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe knife wounds… Wait… I just heard something.”
Quietly, Paladin turned around. This door should lead to the bridge. He glided towards it, holding the gun in readiness. Elsewhere, Weaver held his breath, and Rhe’dhi abandoned his inspection of the cargo hold, moving as quickly as he could towards Taggart’s section of the freighter.
“I’m going into the bridge.” Paladin whispered into the mike. He pulled himself up towards the ceiling of the room. Lack of gravity has it’s advantages, he thought as he finally stopped above the doorway. Aiming his weapon straight down – so he would be able to hit anybody coming out – he reached down with his other hand and pressed the button that would open the door.
The moment the door started opening, somebody opened fire. As he saw the streaks of energy pass through the door below, Paladin was all too glad that he had maintained the presence of mind to get above the doorway.
The gunfire continued. Obviously, the person – or persons – was firing blindly, without noticing the absence of his target.
Several more seconds passed, and then silence. Or rather, near-silence, Paladin thought with satisfaction as he heard the clicks punctuating the air. Out of ammo.
Time to act, he decided. Using the top of the doorframe as a handhold, he flipped down towards the floor, his gun aimed into the bridge.
Finally, he saw his attacker. A youngish-looking man was staring in surprise at him. He was still holding a pistol in his hands, nerveless fingers pressed down on the trigger.
“Don’t move!” James yelled as the man recovered from shock. “Drop the gun!”
The young man quickly complied. “I… I didn’t know who you are…” he started explaining. “I saw the Kilrathi ship, and I thought…”
There’s something wrong about him, Paladin thought. After many years of experience, he could usually size up a person’s character in only a few moments. But is it that he’s not telling the truth, or just not telling the whole truth? “Who are ye?”
“Uh…” he hesitated. “Pete… Pete Browning…”
“Well, Pete, ye’ve got a lotta explaining to do.” Hearing the quiet clang of someone bouncing off a wall, James risked a quick glance behind him. It was the Kilrathi. “Rhe’dhi, lead him back to the Broadsword.”
“Yhess.” Rhe’dhi replied. He moved forward and grabbed Pete by his arm.
Paladin watched carefully as Rhe’dhi pushed the man out of the bridge. He caught a brief glimpse of the expression on Pete’s face.
In that face, there was fear – but it was not the fear of the Kilrathi’s powerful arms. It was something else. James recalled very well how he felt when he first met with a Kilrathi face to face. To say that he was scared would be an understatement. He had been terrified. And he knew that most people were. What about this man then?
He must have met the Kilrathi before.
* * *
“All done, Colonel.” Weaver announced. Through the window, Paladin could see him moving back towards the airlock. “The Scim’s fuelled up and ready to go. But why are we taking this piece of junk?”
James grinned. Piece of junk… he had flown most of his career on the Scimitars. It was a funny sort of ship. Even when it was state of the art, many pilots hated it. Back on the Tiger’s Claw, there was Iceman. He absolutely detested it. But then, Iceman always went for the lighter, more manoeuvrable craft – the artists’ ships.
Personally though, James liked the Scimitar even with all of its inadequacies. And this one had a jump drive, he thought, as he turned back to the ship outside the window. It wasn’t exactly the sleekest design – particularly not now, with the lousy job somebody had done adding on the jump drive – but in its own way, it was a great looking craft.
“You never know what might come in useful, lad.” Paladin spoke into the radio. “Besides, if you’re going to take as much damage as you did the first time, we’ll run out of spare parts for the Ferret in no time.”
“I don’t intend to do so, sir.” Weaver’s voice came from behind him. Darn, that boy moves fast, James thought as he turned around. Indeed, the young Lieutenant had already gotten through the airlock, and here he was.
“I’m glad ta hear that, laddie. And I was glad to see you fly with your wingmate this time.”
Lawrence smiled, a wry sort of smile. “You both gave me a lot to think about. I still haven’t quite figured it all out yet.” He frowned. “Right now… all I know is that we’re in this together.”
“Right now, lad, that’s all ye need to know. The rest will come in time. Well, shall we leave this ship then?”
Weaver grinned. “I’m your wingman.” He pushed himself away from the wall, and headed towards the airlock where his Ferret was docked.
Paladin was also grinning. It wouldn’t be much – just a minute or two – but it was for real. His mind was reeling with joy as he pulled himself through the airlock, and into the cabin of the Scimitar. He strapped himself into the seat, and switched on the engines. Behind him, he could hear the shield generator powering up. God, it felt good to be back in the cockpit!
“Ready to go, boy?” Paladin spoke into the helmet mike.
“I’m ahead of you… granddad.” Weaver’s voice came through.
The tiny Ferret raced right past the Scim’s nose.
“Granddad… why, ye little scamp!” Paladin laughed. “I’ll show ye what a granddad can do!” He put the engines into full thrust, and kicked in the afterburners. The Scimitar’s burners left a charred mark on the Drayman as he charged forward, after the Ferret. It only took him seconds to catch up.
“I see that machine is still working… but I’ve also got afterburners!” Weaver told him. And suddenly, the Ferret was ahead again.
“All right, laddie.” James replied, still chuckling. The sheer velocity was pushing him deep into the seat, and he couldn’t remember when he last felt that good. “Let’s head for the Kamekh. This little display of ours… it’s not fair to Talon.” Paladin sighed inwardly. If it had been possible, he’d have let Talon fly the Scim back to the Krak’ni’hra. It wasn’t though. “Rhe’dhi?” He added, looking around for the Broadsword. “Form on my wing, and let’s head on home.”
“Jasst ah sshek’nd. Whe Kilrathi do noth leev falhon khomrradess forr the en’my.”
He was right. Even these men, whether they were pirates or smugglers, perhaps even traitors, deserved a proper burial. And this was the only one they could get. He sighed. But it still didn’t seem right.
“Very well, Rhe’dhi. Fire.” He finally said.
A bright spark appeared beneath the Broadsword. It sped towards the now-deserted freighter.
The torpedo struck square into the ship’s power plant. A vast globe of fire rapidly enveloped the Drayman. It dissipated just as quickly, quenched by the empty vacuum. But now, all that remained of the freighter were the chunks of metal racing outwards – towards the stars.
From its ‘perch’, where it had been poised above the Drayman, the Broadsword dove towards them.
“Let’s get to the Kamekh, lads.” Paladin told them both. “We’ve got a jump to make.”
“And a prisoner to interrogate…” Weaver added quietly.
“We don’t know who he is, Weaver. I wouldna call him a prisoner just yet.”
“Maybe… but what would his dead friends call him?”
* * *
“Yes, I’ve had dealings with the Kilrathi. I’m a smuggler… but I’m no traitor!” Pete Browning was pleading. In his eyes, Lawrence could see the desperation. He thinks we’ll kill him, Weaver decided. Makes you wonder what he’d do if the situation was reversed.
His eyes wandered over to Paladin, who was sitting in front of their pris… guest. Colonel Taggart’s questions took on an interrogatory tone, and rightly so. The Drayman had been heading towards the Deneb jump point – into Kilrathi space. That’s enough to make anyone suspicious.
“All right. Let’s say I believe you. What about yer ship, and yer crewmates then? What happened?”
Pete sighed. Already, Weaver did not like this man. Something about him reminded him of Javelin. Besides, a smuggler who dealt with the enemy certainly would have no qualms about lying.
“We’d just entered… we’d just set the course for the jump point. The engines blew while powering up. A simple malfunction, but the chain reaction screwed them completely. We got a bit of a push from the explosion… we’ve been drifting at maybe ten kps. Took us several days, and we’d run out of supplies before we got here…”
Paladin stared at the man in shock. “Those men were executed… did you kill them? To preserve supplies?”
An odd look flickered across Browning’s face. A cornered beast, thought Weaver. “No!” Pete almost spat that word at them, in a hurry to clear this new charge. “Er… Jones did… but I was ready for him… I killed him when he came. But I was the last one left by then.”
“Jones… he was the man outside the bridge?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Colonel Taggart said, his face expressionless. “And then?”
“Then?” Pete looked down on the floor. “Then I waited… at least I had enough supplies for a while.”
“Yes, that you did.” Weaver threw in from where he was standing. The man looked up at him, as if detecting Lawrence’s complete lack of faith in his words. “What were you doing in Kilrathi territory?”
Browning’s eyes narrowed. “Am I a prisoner then, to be interrogated this way?” He gave Weaver another spiteful glance, and then turned back to Paladin.
“That remains to be determined.” James told him.
“Colonel Taggart, surely you don’t believe…” Weaver started.
“Believe him? He just admitted to being a smuggler and a murderer, though in self-defence. Does that sound like he’s lying?”
“But his ship was heading into Kilrathi space… they could have been Mandarins, for all we know!”
Paladin sighed. He too had such suspicions. However, experience told him that it is better not to accuse people of treason when trying to get information out of them. When inevitable execution looms above your head, you don’t really feel like cooperating. “Talon, how long till the jump point?”
“Two minutes, sir.”
“All right then. Weaver and Rhe’dhi, go to your ships. I know you must be exhausted by now, but none of us can rest until we get to the asteroid belt in Deneb. Be ready to undock the moment we complete the jump.”
“Sir…” Weaver started. “This man…”
“Lieutenant, that’s an order. We need you ready, in case there are enemy ships at the jump point.”
“Yes, Colonel.” Lawrence saluted him, and left the bridge, Rhe’dhi close behind.
* * *
“Does that guy seem as suspicious to you as he does to me?” Weaver asked as they approached the docking hatches.
“Indheedh.” Rhe’dhi replied. “Bhat hhe mmay alsso bhe usseful.”
“Maybe. I don’t believe a word he says, though.” Lawrence said, even as he dropped into the hatch.
Rhe’dhi watched in silence as the hatch sealed itself above Weaver’s head. The young Lieutenant was as distrustful as ever – but this time, Rhe’dhi agreed. Still, the Colonel surely knows what he’s doing. As he opened the hatch, he suddenly remembered that the Broadsword was at the elevator – the strange old fighter had taken up the second hatch. A Scimitar… relic from decades past. “You never know what might come in useful”, Paladin had told them. Perhaps there is truth in that. Then maybe, this man – this smuggler or traitor – could also be useful. He sighed. The Kilrathi did not betray. Sometimes, these humans are so difficult to comprehend. What a strange, strange species, he thought as he entered the elevator. So noble, and yet so base.
* * *
“So, what’s going to happen to me?” Browning asked, watching Weaver leave the room.
“After we return, we’ll hand you over to the authorities. If you cooperate with us now,” Paladin replied, putting stress on the ‘if’. “Then they’ll keep that in mind when they decide on your punishment.”
Hope briefly flickered across Pete’s face. It disappeared just as quickly, replaced by resolve. “You want information?”
“For a start, I’d like to know why you were heading into Deneb.”
“We had a meeting to attend to… in Tamayo system. Deneb was a shortcut.”
“A meeting?”
“To pick up some cargo.”
“Ah. So, you’d risk yourselves and the ship going through Kilrathi space just to get some cargo?”
Anger flashed in Pete’s eyes, but he controlled himself. “Times are tough. We had no choice. Look, I’m sure the… authorities… will extract all this from me soon enough. So, maybe you’d like to get to the point?”
Taggart forced the irritation away. “All right. What do you know of Kilrathi and Confed ships in Deneb?”
“If you think I’ve got Kilrathi contacts, you’re barking up the wrong tree. And my comms died a few hours before you got here, so all I know is what I picked up before then.”
“Which is?”
“Not very much.” Pete replied, a grim smile on his face. “I caught some Kilrathi broadcasts, but they were coded. And yesterday I even heard a Confed destroyer in Deneb… I guess you’re probably supposed to meet it, eh?”
Paladin ignored the question. “Did you get the destroyer’s location, then?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Browning replied all too quickly. “I even wrote it down. Never know when knowing might save your life…”
Like if you met the Kilrathi, James thought. “Let’s have it then.”
Browning pulled out a worn piece of paper from one of his pockets. There was a set of numbers scrawled on the paper in pencil.
“Talon, plot these on the map.” Paladin passed the paper to Captain Burkeheimer. “And what, Mr. Browning, might your excuse for knowing Confed codes be?”
“Like I said.” Pete grinned oddly. “Knowing can save your life.”
“Jim?” Said Hharak, who had been sitting at the console. “Whe arr rhe-dhi to jhamp.”
“All right. Initiate sequence then. And Talon, go and lock him up in the brig.” Paladin pointed at Pete. “He already knows enough.”
Talon got up, indicating that Browning should do the same.
Pete looked at him, then at James. Finally, with a show of reluctance he started getting up. “I guess I know all there is to know, anyway.” He gave the Colonel a mocking sort of salute as Talon led him out of the room.
Just then, the swirling blue tunnel opened up before them.
“Ready or not, here we come,” Paladin said to himself.
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And thus concludes another chapter. Start commenting.
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