D'Mok Revival 1: Awakening (16 page)

“Ujaku!” she squealed.

“Toriko Purg, should’ve figured it was you! Who else could do a reverse lookup on my com-ID!”

“Are you okay? We got your distress signal.”

“Had better days. These characters’ve been after me for a while. Just got lucky this time.”

Toriko saw smoke begin to surround his holographic image. “Are you on fire?”

“Few fried wires. It’s nothing.”

“We’re near you now. Hang in there!”

Alarm showed on his face. “Near? These are mercenaries, Tori. Stay away!”

“We have a plan.”

“We?”

“We’ll be there soon. Hold on!”

“Toriko, this isn’t just a simula—”

The projection filled with static as a blast rocked his ship. Mencari could see the young fellow thrown violently forward. Toriko screamed, “Ujaku!”

Eyes blazing with fear or exhilaration, Ujaku pulled away from the screen. “Love to keep talking, but I have to play with ’em first. See ya later. Ujaku out.”

“We’ll be there in two minutes,” Mencari called to Toriko. “Can you see him on our scanners?”

She pulled up the display. “Yeah. And two other ships close behind him.”

Mencari called up visual projections of the targets. “Can your EM pulse handle two vessels? That class of ship could have shielding—”

“Just watch it!” Toriko said pulling up her virtual workspace franticly working on her targeting system. Her eyes jittered back and forth while lines of code burst onto the display. Virtual objects began to appear and connect. “This would be so much easier with my full development shell. Gosh darn it!”

“Nav says thirty seconds to interception.”

“Done!”

“Done? Done with—?”

The voice of the ship’s computer spoke up. “Targeting system activated. Ship X12A-12A omitted from combat targets.”

Toriko selected “EM Pulse” and the ship’s computer intoned, “Switching to visual feedback.” A holographic three-dimensional grid appeared. Small crosshairs moved across the display as the computer tracked Toriko’s eye movement.

“Not fully automatic, but it’ll help!” she said.

The mercenary ships immediately began evasive maneuvers while still pursuing Ujaku.

Mencari shook his head, amazed. “They must be able to detect your system.”

“Didn’t have time to add buffers to obfuscate the targeting beams.”

She nibbled her lower lip while the crosshairs changed color and the display scrambled into a swarm of colored dots. Her eyes grew wide. “Ahhh!”

Mencari held his focus on the mercenary ships. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. It just . . . scrambled.”

Panicking, she drilled into the ship’s systems. A plain console window appeared in a new projection.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed. “A prompt! I have a command prompt!”

“What’s a prompt?”

“Exactly! I’ll have to change this later.”

“What
is
it?”

“Gotta debug… Oh my gosh, core dump too!”

Her fingers flew over a holographic keyboard as information scrolled across the prompt screen. “Found it! In the lock subroutine!”

Then, she let out a disgusted snort. “Stupid race condition. Of all the times . . .”

She began tapping again. “Reinitializing the defense matrix.”

“Hurry,” Mencari said. “They’re on him again.”

As she locked on the ship, the new system fired an EM pulse. The invisible wave crashed into her target, causing plumes of sparks and debris to shower from its aft side.

“Got him! Sort of.”

“What does
sort of
—?”

A glance answered his question. She’d missed a direct hit; only half the ship appeared dead. Its port engines continued to fire, causing it to spin far off course. The second ship broke off its pursuit and circled back to aid the failing vessel.

Ujaku hailed them. Toriko opened the channel, and an amused Ujaku appeared. “Let me guess, one of your toys—right?”

She blushed.

“Added ‘military guru’ to your resume, did you?”

“Maybe. . . ” she said slyly.

“Hate to break this up,” Mencari said, “but while the mercenaries are at a dead stop, I think we should clear out.”

Ujaku nodded. “I agree. I think my baby’ll hold up a little longer. Let’s head to a spaceway safety port. Check how badly she’s banged up there.”

“Spaceway?” Mencari asked. “What’s that?”

“Never used the spaceway?” Ujaku sounded incredulous.

“No.”

“Follow me. I’ll pay our way in.”

Mencari looked over at Toriko, who shrugged. Then, to the screen, he said, “We’ll be right behind you.”

Ujaku nodded, and his image dissolved. Mencari configured the navigation system for friendly pursuit, then sat back. The ships swiftly headed off together.

“You never heard of a spaceway?” Toriko said.

“No.”

“Me either.”

He swiveled his head to her in surprise, but turned his eyes right back. A large object had appeared on the navigation console.

By the time he said, “Woo, what’s
that
thing?” she’d already pulled up her own view at her station and was squinting at it. She enhanced the image with a computer approximation of the structure ahead. “Still too distant for a good rendering, but it looks like . . . a great big funnel!”

They were hailed again. At first, nothing was there. Then an embarrassed Ujaku moved into the projection. “Sorry. Went to open the channel and something blew. Guess my baby’s in bad shape after all.”

“Still think you can make it?” Mencari asked.

“Yeah. No guarantees how much farther though.”

“Toriko saw a big funnel up ahead. We head toward it?”

“Yes. That’s the gate aperture onto the spaceway.”

“What is the spaceway exactly?”

“It’s very clever, that’s what it is.”

Mencari waited for a better explanation. Finally, Ujaku cleared his throat and said, “Long story short—some spatial engineers found the gravity from planets, stars and other stuff created these bands of compressed space. They did some studies, found they could put a ship inside, get it to move at amazing speeds while barely needing to touch the fuel cells. . . Anyway, they turned it into kind of a highway in space.”

Mencari said, “So why the big gateway?”

“To protect little guys like us. The gravity on the edges of these bands could crush us. Matching the internal speed of the spaceway can also tear ships up. So they designed these apertures to allow ordinary ships to get past the gravity thing and ramp them fast enough into the speeds within the spaceway.”

Toriko leaned forward, fascinated. “And the safety port you were talking about?”

“A modern rest stop. With a few added features to help ships in trouble. As we approach, the aperture will scan you for a license. It’s not a free ride. But my license allows me to let others on. Under my care, of course.”

As they approached, he and Toriko began seeing strange appendages resembling long arms of a squid. “Looks hungry,” he muttered.

The console next to Toriko bleeped. The tentacle-like appendages began to close, shrinking the aperture’s gaping mouth. What was once a massive opening was now only twice the size of their ship. As they approached the aperture, the ship felt as if it was picking up speed. The communication chime rang out again. Ujaku appeared.

“Passing through the gravity rings,” he said. “All normal. They’ll help align your ship as you go in.”

Mencari said, “Does the gate always adjust to the ship that passes through it?”

“Yeah— Oops, I’ll be back.”

His image blinked out. The craft began to shake, accelerating further towards the main aperture.

The communication tone rang again with Ujaku’s image. “Don’t worry, that’s just the pull of the aperture. Ah, aperture virgins. Gotta love ’em!” He laughed.

“Can your ship take the stress?” Mencari said, swaying.

“Yes, my baby can take a lot more—”

From behind him, the sounds of circuit panels exploding contradicted his claims. “We’ll be fine! See you on the other side!”

His image broke into tiny balls of light as they entered the tentacle tunnel. Toriko cried out as the ship lurched with an unexpected surge of speed. Her cheeks ablaze, she covered her mouth.

The ship moaned as it was thrown forward. Out the window they could see a brilliant aura off the hull. The shaking increased, and Mencari called out, “How much longer?”

She jutted her head out, trying to look at a side console. “I have no idea!”

The shaking suddenly stopped, leaving the pair staring at each other.

“Feels like we stopped,” Mencari said, blowing out a breath.

“But we didn’t,” she said. “According to this, we’re traveling at the same velocity as before. But the nav panel’s says we’re traversing space much faster.”

He looked out the windows. “So this is a spaceway.”

The communication tone rang out again, Ujaku appearing as she opened the channel.

“You actually made it!” Ujaku said.

Mencari blurted, “Didn’t think we would?”

“Just kidding guys. . .  Be ready to move, though. Larger crafts don’t always yield like they should in here. We’ll be coming to the safety port in five minutes. Until then, just hang tight.”

A moment later, it was too noisy to ask questions. A number of large transports and personnel carriers thundered past. Soon after, they found themselves nearing a sign that read “Safety Port 1124.”

They passed through the gated opening and pulled into the dock. No one else seemed to be around. Like the trading post, umbilical tubes attached over the airlock and pressurized it. They secured the ship and headed into the safeway.

Toriko looked around. “There’s Ujaku’s ship!”

When her friend emerged from the docking tube, she cried out, “Ujaku!” and jumped at him, arms wide.

“Hey Tor!” he said, grabbing her into a bear hug. “Wow, you’re half the girl I once knew.”

Her cheeks burned brightly. “I’ve lost a little weight.”

“It’s good to see you. How are your parents? How’s Maro?”

The laughter drained from her face. “They . . . I think we need to talk.”

She explained what happened on Tericn, to her family, about their deaths in a horrible shuttle accident while visiting another dome. She was reluctant to say much, but Mencari learned details about the incident, that she and her sister were two of only three survivors from a vessel that was transporting more than eighty passengers and crew. Ujaku listened in quiet shock.

She finished by telling a little of their latest challenges, fighting with the opposition on Tericn, realizing that a powerful enemy called the Nukari were deeply involved, meeting Mencari who wanted to hire her for something involving a campaign against the Nukari.

Ujaku shook his head and looked at Toriko. “Maro. She’s okay?”

Toriko nodded. “Yes. I hope. The Nukari really did a number on her mind. We left her with Daleron . . . a friend in the Tericn opposition. But . . . she made me leave her and Tericn to go with Mencari. She felt it was the best chance to fight the Nukari, whose influence is spreading to more worlds than Tericn. She said they have to be stopped.”

Ujaku looked Mencari for confirmation.

“We’re the only ones,” Mencari said, his face and voice somber. “The Coalition won’t touch this. Not directly, at least.”

Ujaku’s eyes grew distant as he glanced at the docked ships. “You know, I was on my way to a potential job when I ran into my mercenary ‘buddies.’ Laying low for a while wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe I could help you guys out for a while.”

Toriko threw her arms around his neck. “
Really?
”

She turned her head to Mencari. “His devices are amazing, Rhysus. Better than mine, even. He could really help us out! Please?”

Ujaku fixed firm eyes on Mencari. “I’ll make myself useful.”

Mencari returned the steady gaze. “You sure you want to get involved in this?”

Ujaku looked at Toriko and smiled affectionately, then back to Mencari and nodded. “Without a doubt.”

Toriko’s arms wrapped harder around Ujaku, and he yelped as his breath was squeezed out of him like a small animal in a python’s grip.

“Oh, sorry!”

He weakly waved, unable to look up yet.

Sudden sparks began showering from his craft behind them. With a booming bang, a side panel blew open.

“What the—!” Still recovering from the Toriko’s embrace, Ujaku limped to a dock window. Toriko and Mencari joined him to see a fog rolling from the damaged area of the ship.

“It’s okay,” he told them. “It’s nanites repairing my ship. My auto-repair system. Your old man made it for me.”

“Dad?” She paused. “Maro never said anything—”