04 Dark Space (7 page)

She just has to be patient,
Ethan thought.
We don’t have to start a family right away. What’s her rush? She’s twenty-three, not forty!
The same wasn’t true for Ethan. He was already 46, and without longevity treatments which he’d probably never be able to afford, he wouldn’t make more than 100. His life was already half over, and if he couldn’t make his dreams come true now that he had everything going for him, then chances were he never would.

Ethan nodded to himself and turned back to watch the dying rays of the Alissan sun. Alara just needed his reassurance that he really was sure about marrying her tomorrow, and that he could make both their dreams come true. All he needed from her was a little bit of time and some faith in the man she’d agreed to marry.

Just be patient, Alara. You’ll get that cabin on a lake and the family you’ve been dreaming about.

*   *   *

Atton Ortane waited in the concourse between the
Valiant’s
port and starboard venture-class hangar bays. All of his gear and personal effects were stuffed into an 80 pound grav bag and slung across his shoulders. Thankfully the bag’s grav field generator made it weigh little more than 10 pounds. Atton stepped up to the bank of viewports which lay between him and the port hangar bay. He spent a moment looking up at the skyscraper-sized
Intrepid,
feeling suddenly very small. It didn’t help remembering that the 280-meter-long
Intrepid
was actually berthed inside of the five-kilometer-long
Valiant
where he now stood. Sometimes it was hard to remember he was living on board a starship, rather than some immense space station.

Atton watched the milling crowds inside the hangar bay. Most of the
Intrepid’s
128 crew members were already aboard, so the crowds were ground crew. Here and there a mechanized load lifter could be seen carrying plastiform crates of supplies and munitions up the five-story high boarding ramps of the warship. Giant fuel hoses snaked out from the aft section of the ship. Her standard gold dymium fuel was being pumped and replaced with the much rarer and more potent red dymium which would enable the
Intrepid
to fly nearly 10 times faster through superluminal space. They would be able to travel the almost 1,000 light years to the admiral’s Enclave in just over a week. Due to the extreme distances involved when travelling across the galaxy, red dymium fuel was necessary for any fleet operations outside of Dark Space. However, due to the scarcity of red dymium, ships within the sector were restricted to the use of the less potent gold variant. That restriction had almost spelled the end for the Imperium a few months ago when local crime lord, Alec “Big Brainy” Brondi had captured the
Valiant
and forced the surviving crew to flee aboard another venture-class cruiser, the
Defiant
. That cruiser had been fueled with nothing but gold dymium, and under-fueled at that. Under those circumstances they had barely managed to fly 30 light years away from Dark Space to get help from Admiral Hoff’s fleet. Atton sighed. At least this time they wouldn’t have to worry about fuel problems.

“Atty!”

Atton turned with a smile to see his little sister, Atta, running toward him. Walking at a more measured pace behind her were her parents, Admiral Hoff Heston and Atton’s own mother, Destra Ortane. Atta collided with Atton’s legs and he staggered back a step. She locked her arms around his waist for a breath-stealing hug. He smiled and tousled his sister’s dark hair. She looked up at him with Hoff’s gray eyes and their mother’s button nose.

“Take me with you!”

“I’m sorry, Atta, I can’t, but I won’t be gone long.”

“Promise?” She squeezed him harder, and he gasped, pretending to suffer.

“Okay, okay, I promise!”

“Good!” She let go of his waist, and he tousled her hair once more. Atta was his half sister. Not long ago he’d hated her for replacing him. He hadn’t seen his mother for ten years and then suddenly he’d found her married to the admiral with a daughter whose name sounded suspiciously like his.

“Atton!” Destra said as she drew near. “What is this Hoff tells me about you going on a secret mission in Sythian Space?”

Atton smiled. “It’s classified, Mom.”

“I don’t care.” She shot her husband a dark look. “I told Hoff no more secrets, and I meant it.”

Atton’s gaze slipped sideways to find the admiral. “What did you tell her . . . ?”

“She doesn’t know the details.”

“I know enough,” Destra said. “You can’t go, Atton. What if you don’t come back?”

“He’ll come back,” Hoff replied.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Hoi, guys, I thought you were coming to say goodbye, not convince me to stay.”

“He’ll be fine, Destra,” the admiral reassured. “With that Sythian Fleet here watching our every move, he’ll be safer than us.”

“Maybe we should all go, then,” Destra said.

“Are you suggesting we abandon everyone here and save ourselves?”

Destra frowned. “I suppose not.” She took another step toward her son and stopped within arms’ reach of him. She just stood there, her blue eyes staring into his green until he was forced to notice the sadness lurking in her gaze. “I’m going to miss you,” she said.

“I’ll miss you, too, Mom, but I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

His mother pulled him into a hug and whispered, “You be careful out there.”

“I will.”

“And don’t hesitate to call for help. Promise me, Atton.”

“I promise.”

“Good. If you don’t come back I’m going to go get you myself.”

“He won’t be in any danger, Des,” Hoff said. “I give you my word, if I thought they would harm him I wouldn’t send him.”

Destra pulled out of the hug to turn to her husband. “I know, because if something happened to him I’d never let you forget it.”

Hoff chuckled. “Like you haven’t let me forget that I made him a squadron commander?”

“Because it was an incredibly stupid thing to do.”

“That was my choice, Mom. My choice to accept this rank, and my choice to accept this mission. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wasn’t going to sit by and watch everyone else fight the Sythians. Why should I let them have all the fun?” he added with a wink and a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

Destra blinked a tear onto her cheek and shook her head. “You really are your father’s son. Adventure and excitement were all he cared about until he lost everything that really mattered. Make sure you don’t make the same mistakes, Atton.”

“I won’t. Besides, the admiral is right; I’ll be safer out there than I will be in Dark Space. That’s why I have to go. We need to get reinforcements or else no one is going to be safe.”

Destra held his gaze for a long moment, as if hoping he’d change his mind. When he didn’t so much as blink, she sighed. “Okay.”

“Well! Now that that’s out of the way . . .” Admiral Heston stepped up to Atton and held out his hand for shaking. Atton accepted the handshake, but the admiral pulled him close. Under the guise of giving him a hug, he whispered in Atton’s ear, “Whatever you do, don’t tell the Avilonians I sent you.” Then he withdrew with a smile and said, “Good luck, son. Hopefully by the time I see you again, you’ll have a whole fleet with you.”

Atton replied with a quizzical frown. “Hopefully more than one . . .” His eyes flicked to his mother, but if she had noticed Hoff’s whispered warning, there was no sign of it on her face.

“You’d better get aboard,” the admiral went on. “They’re launching in half an hour.”

“Right.” Atton felt an insistent tug on his sleeve, and he looked down to see Atta smiling up at him with her doll-like face.

“Don’t forget to bring me something.”

Atton smiled. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Something pretty.”

Atton laughed, already backing away from his family to enter the hangar bay. “Okay, Atta. Something pretty it is.”

“Come home safe!” Destra pleaded.

Atton met his mother’s gaze one last time and nodded. “I will.” Turning to the admiral, he gave a quick salute and said, “Sir.”

“Make the Imperium proud, Commander.”

“I will, sir.” And with that, Atton turned and passed his wrist over the door scanner to open the broad double doors of the hangar bay. The doors parted with a
swish,
and Atton broke into a light jog, angling for the
Intrepid’s
nearest boarding ramp.

As he ran, his comm piece buzzed in his ear, and he sent a mental command to answer it.

“Ortane, what’s taking you?” Master Commander Donali asked. “You’re the only member of the crew who hasn’t reported in yet. Captain Caldin is asking for you.”

“Sorry, sir. Do you know what the captain wants?”

“She wants you to come aboard so we can get under way.”

“Right. I’ll be aboard in five.”

“Good. One more thing, Ortane—”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’d like a word with you in my office once you’ve reported in. There are a few things the admiral didn’t tell you about where you’re going.”

Atton frowned as he reached the foot of the boarding ramp. On his way up he passed a pair of load-lifter mechs carrying cold-storage crates full of freeze-dried rations. “If the admiral didn’t tell me, I’m sure it can’t be that important, sir.”

“He feels the importance of your mission outweighs the risks you’ll be exposed to, but I believe in full disclosure. If this mission is going to succeed, you need to know what you are getting yourself into.”

Atton was gasping for breath by the time he reached the top of the five-story boarding ramp. He shook his head and walked to one side of the
Intrepid’s
cargo hold to lean against the bulkhead and rest. “What do you mean? What am I getting myself into?”

“We’ll discuss that in my office. For now report to the captain, and I’ll see you after we make the jump to SLS, at thirteen hundred.”

“Yes, sir,” Atton said. He blinked spots from his eyes and set off at a run for the nearest bank of lift tubes. The loud,
clanking
approach of mechanized footsteps called his attention back to the top of the boarding ramp, and he saw the pair of load-lifters he’d passed on the way up. Turning back to the fore, he was just in time to sidestep another load-lifer on its way out. The pilot shook a mechanical fist at him and yelled in an amplified voice for him to watch where he was going. Atton smiled and waved an apology.

Then he did run into something. He bounced off and landed on the deck to sit blinking up at nothing but empty space. The air shimmered, and a pair of two-meter-high Gors de-cloaked right in front of him.

The Gor Atton had run into turned to him, and the glowing red eyes of its helmet seemed to burn a hole straight through his chest. The creature warbled something, and Atton shook his head. “I’m not wearing a translator, sorry.”

Warble.

The Gor held out a giant hand. Atton eyed that hand for a long moment before he decided to accept it. The creature’s cold armor closed around his wrist in a vice grip, and then came a sharp jerk on his arm as the Gor yanked him roughly to his feet. He had to bite his lip not to cry out as his shoulder threatened to pop out of its socket.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t see you there,” Atton said, rubbing his shoulder. The alien turned and walked away without another word, and Atton frowned, thinking back to what he’d told his mother about the safety of this mission. They hadn’t even left Dark Space yet and he’d already cheated death twice—once almost getting crushed by a load-lifter mech and again by almost becoming breakfast for a Gor. Besides that, there was Donali’s ominous warning about his mission being more dangerous than he thought.

What haven’t you told me, Hoff?

Chapter 5

E
than stood waiting in the hangar of Alara’s parents’ home. He wore a glossy black suit complete with a shiny white crystal flower corsage. Looking down at the glossy petals of that flower, he found it drooping, as if peering down from his breast pocket, getting ready to leap back to the ground from which it had been plucked. Ethan adjusted the corsage so that it could droop from a new angle. Ethan frowned and looked away, deciding not to obsess over it.

His bride was busy getting ready, leaving him at a loose end. The wedding was set to take place in the Vastras’ garden, all expenses paid generously by Alara’s father. Of course, Ethan didn’t have any family to invite besides his son, who would be unavailable on such short notice, and he didn’t have any friends besides Alara, so the wedding really wasn’t for him. It was just a formality, and a painful one at that. Over the last month he’d spent with Alara’s family while planning the wedding, tensions had been running high. Alara’s father, Dr. Kurlin, disliked him with a passion due to some . . .
history
they had together, and while Alara’s mother wasn’t against him, she wasn’t really for him either. Both parents were quick to point out Ethan’s shady past. He was an ex-con who’d been exiled to Dark Space before the invasion—a sol-scraping
grub
, as Kurlin liked to call him.

A grub. Kurlin would have been hard-pressed to think of a more insulting, pejorative term for his soon to be son-in-law.
Why do the rich always try to make the poor feel like krak? They think they’re better because they’re rich, but they’re just lucky; most of them were born into it. Show me a poor man who clawed his way to the top despite all the odds being against him, and there’s a man
I’ll
look up to.

Ethan had been struggling to make a living for his loved ones as long as he could remember, and he didn’t need some upper-class snob without so much as a single callus on either of his bony hands to tell him that he wasn’t good enough to marry his daughter.

Now, the morning of the wedding, Ethan felt like his blood was just about to boil, and he was sorely tempted to go find Dr. Kurlin and break his bony, upturned nose. Ethan let out his frustration in a sigh. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to keep his cool all this time. He couldn’t wait to get away with Alara for their honeymoon. That was the only thing that had kept him sane these past four weeks—the thought of another four spent in a romantic getaway on Karpathia, just the two of them. After that, they could fly off and start their lives together. They’d see her family once or twice a year, and Ethan wouldn’t feel the constant need to murder her father.