The Lost Star Episode One (4 page)

A massive gravity ring encased the station,
bringing artificial gravity and atmosphere to the ships in dry
dock, allowing the engineers to work on them without popping like
balloons.

It was a heck of a sight. Nothing on Avixa
rivalled it, or at least nothing she’d seen. Avixan society was so
cloistered and compartmentalized that, as a priestess, she’d barely
been allowed out of the mountain temples. This was the first time
she’d seen a ship being built, and it took her breath away. Robotic
arms locked the various ships’ skeletons in place as crews of
engineers on flying ramps soldered hull plating into
place.

It was such a distraction that she didn’t
see Captain McClane making direct eye contact with her until too
late.

For the past five whole minutes he’d been
silently stalking up and down in front of his new crewmembers,
assessing them each in turn.

Now he stopped, star
ed at her, and shook his head
curtly.

Before her stomach could sink, he took a
step back and cleared his throat. “You have all earned your place
aboard this vessel.” He kept staring right at her. “You all have
the skills it takes to protect the citizens of the Coalition and to
continue our peaceful operations throughout the Milky Way. But
though we are explorers, we are also protectors. And each of you
has the skills it takes to save others.” Though his gaze had sliced
away briefly, now it jerked back and settled on her once more.
“Times have changed. Though it is still the primary remit of the
Coalition Forces to explore and chart the galaxy, it is now more
important than ever that we protect her. Mark my words – you will
be called upon to bravely sacrifice to save others. And you must be
up to this task,” again he looked at her, “For responsibility and a
clear conscience will demand it of you.”

Finally
Captain McClane broke eye contact with Ava and
began pacing down the line again, staring at each recruit in turn
as he continued his speech.

Maybe Ava’s stomach should have been
lurching at the captain’s direct attention. It wasn’t.

He just reminded her of Sharpe. Plus,
unlike Sharpe, there would be a limit to how much direct attention
Captain McClane would be able to pay her. He was in charge of
running the Mandalay.

He’d forget her soon enough.

She’d fade into the background just as she’d
done at the Academy.

She smiled just thinking about it.

After a few more minutes of his
chest-punching speech, Captain McClane dismissed the new
crewmembers, allowing them a single hour aboard the station before
they were to report to their new quarters.

As soon as the crowd dispersed and Captain
McClane strode out of sight with his XO, Ava felt a small hand curl
around her arm.

She knew who it was even before she turned
her head to see the smile playing over Nema’s face.

“
Wow,” Nema said, “Can you believe
that?”

“What?”

“
That we get to be aboard a ship with the
great Captain McClane. You know he’s currently the youngest captain
in the fleet?” Nema slipped into an easy step beside
Ava.

“No. Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters! He has a list of
accolades as long as my arm. He’s one of the most decorated
captains in the fleet, and he’s so young!”

“Oh,” Ava said, trying to keep the boredom
from her tone.

Nema picked up on it and sighed.
“Sometimes I don’t get you, Ava – you’re not impressed by anything.
And nothing scares you either.” Nema leaned in and looked at Ava
analytically, a frown pressing over her lips. “How come you’re not
a sweaty blubbery mess after Captain McClane stared at you like
that? I mean, he wasn’t even looking at me but my heart was
thundering at a million miles.”

Ava shrugged. “He caught me looking at the
ship yards while he was checking us out. He’ll forget about me soon
enough.”

Nema chuckled, ending with a friendly sigh.
“What I wouldn’t give to be you. Nothing scares you.”

Except for responsibility, Ava felt like
adding.

She couldn’t.

While Nema was her best friend, Ava could
not confide in her. About study and ordinary events, sure. About
being a priestess of Avixa, never.

Nema had no idea who Ava really was. As
far as Nema was concerned, Ava was simply an Avixan with no special
skill.

Nema hooked an arm around Ava’s and dragged
her forward. “We have to check out this primary bar on this
station.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a bar aboard a shipbuilding
station! It’s going to be so hard ass. Just walking in the door is
going to do wonders for your cred.”

Ava couldn’t help but laugh as she was led
forward.

It was easy to become distracted by the
sight of the station as she was pulled through it.

Huge high-ceilinged halls snaked into the
belly of the ship where a host of stalls and stores were
arranged.

They were a hodgepodge of styles –
sleek
Coalition depots
with white-silver walls abutting rusted storefronts cobbled
together with reclaimed engine parts.

Ava stared with wide open eyes and a smile
pressing across her lips.

The place was packed with aliens of all
sizes and shapes, all milling about and haggling for ship
parts.

Nema spied the bar – which had a long
entrance the size of two shop fronts – and gave an excited squeak.
“This is so cool.”

Ava stared as she was dragged through the
doorway.

The bar was massive. It sprawled into the
back of the room a good fifty meters away. There were several
branching halls and doors that led into even more rooms.

It was an expansive warren, and it was
packed.

It felt like half the crew of the Mandalay
were in here, enjoying their last opportunity for R&R before
their ship set sail.

Unlike the rest of the ship, the ceiling
in here was low, painted a dark brown-black, and offset with rows
of powerful lights that dimmed or brightened depending on how many
people were seated somewhere.

“Okay, we’re going to have the strangest,
grossest, most expensive alien cocktails on the menu,” Nema said
excitedly.

“I can’t consume stimulants,” Ava said
distractedly as she stared at the enormous bar that cut like a
writhing snake through the room. It was being serviced by a
colorful array of humans and aliens.

“
Oh my god, sorry, of course. You’re
culture doesn’t permit it. I can’t remember how many times you’ve
told me that. Then you have to have the grossest most expensive
food on the menu. My treat.” Nema dragged Ava all the way up to the
bar.

Several Coalition officers were standing
around it, talking and chuckling amongst themselves. They ignored
Ava and Nema completely. The officers, like everyone else, were
here to enjoy their last hour before the Mandalay set
sail.

Nema sprang up to the bar and locked her
hands on the polished metal.

Ava hung back and laughed at her friend.

Almost immediately an attractive young
ensign from further along the bar slid over to Nema and started
chatting her up.

Ava chuckled and decided to give them some
space.

She took a step back and banged into
someone.

She turned as Lieutenant Commander Shera
strode past. Shera stiffened as she saw Ava.

Ava did nothing.

When Shera finally tore her cold gaze from
Ava and strode up to the group of officers, she’d smoothed a
friendly smile onto her face.

Ava’s stomach threatened to sink.

It seemed likely Lieutenant Commander
Shera had been assigned to the Mandalay too.

But just before Ava could feel too nervous,
she reminded herself it was ultimately irrelevant.

Shera
could be rude, dismissive, and even ignore Ava completely.
But she couldn’t do anything more.

Shera
may have a problem with the fact Ava was a priestess, but
there wasn’t a single thing the lieutenant commander could do about
it.

Threaten violence against a priestess, and
Shera would be sent straight back to the home world where she’d
likely be placed into locks for the rest of her life.

So Ava didn’t even ba
ulk as yet another Avixan pushed through
the crowd and made it up to Shera’s side.

Ava recognized her as Meva. She was
powerful, just like Shera, and had been a virtual sensation at the
Academy. And, just like Shera, Meva had always ignored
Ava.

Now the two of them steadfastly did not
turn her way as they greeted the other Mandalay officers standing
at the bar.

Ava frowned for just a second before turning
away.

There were now two Avixans on the
Mandalay, not including her.

Ava stopped herself before she could start
to wonder what that meant.

Instead she hung back and waited for
Nema.

The bar was made from a polished reflected
metal, and as she stood there, occasionally she darted her gaze
over to stare at it.

She saw Shera staring at her back a few
times, gaze unfriendly.

Perhaps Ava should take the opportunity to
push further out of sight.

She didn’t get the chance.

Someone grabbed her armlet.

She looked down into the wiry face of a
Parkian trader. A race known for their unrivalled
tenacity.

“
Can I help you?” s
he asked, blinking in surprise.

The trader completely ignored her, grasping
his sucker-like fingers around her right armlet as he pressed his
eye close to it. “I’ll offer you 200 GSCs for it.”

“
Ah, it’s not for sale. Now can you let
go?” Ava tried to tug her arm back to no Avail.

She wanted to get rid of this trader before
she started to draw a crowd.

“250. That’s my final offer.” The trader now
latched the suckers of his other hand over the top of her armlet.
He was shorter than her, and it caused her to bend in half, her
once neat hair jerking messily over her shoulder.

“
They’re still not for sale. Now let go.”
She tried to tug her arm back but failed again.

It was now too late to end this
uncomfortable scene without drawing a crowd
. As the alien jerked her arm to the left
to get a better look, he tugged her along with him.

Though Parkian traders weren’t known for
their strength, he was still much stronger than she was.

“Get off,” Ava insisted.

The trader darted a quick hand into his
utility belt and produced a triphasic wrench.

Incapable of stopping him, he latched it
onto the edge of her armlet, the edge of the wrench cutting into
her arm.

She yelped.

“
What the hell is going on here?” A
resonant voice demanded from behind her.

She was still bent in half, her long red
locks now completely free from her bun and obscuring her
sight.

She heard someone stomp up beside her and
saw a pair of polished Coalition issue boots.

The owner of the resonant boots and voice
grabbed the trader and pulled him backwards.

By now blood had drained down her arm from
the deep wound the wrench had dug into her wrist. There was a small
pool of it just under her feet. As the trader was yanked back, he
kept hold of the triphasic wrench with his suckers, and pulled Ava
with him.

Her boots slipped on her blood and she fell
backwards, taking everyone with her.

The trader loosened his grip on the wrench
and rolled to the side lithely. The guy who’s saved Ava did
not.

He fell right on top of her.

His hard torso practically crushed her as
his face banged into her cheek.

Immediately he stiffened – she could feel
every muscle down his stomach and legs lock like a board.

He jerked his hands down either side of her
middle and shot to his feet.

Ava didn’t move.

There was no point.

She was still trying to catch up to what the
hell had just happened.

Then Nema snapped down to her knees, her
worried face darting close. “Oh my god, are you okay? What the hell
just happened!”

Ava flirted with the idea of lying there
longer, but knew every eye in the bar would be on her.

With a significant groan, she pulled herself
to her feet.

The trader was being restrained by two burly
security guards. Though restrained was a generous term. He appeared
to have lost all interest with her.

“
Are you okay? Your
wrist!
” Nema
gasped.

Ava brought her right wrist up. The wrench
had cut a chunk right out of her flesh. It was bleeding profusely,
her silver-flecked cold blue blood slicking down her arm and the
front of her uniform.

Ava sighed again, even blowing a puff of air
up against her fringe.

With one hand, she undid the wrench and
threw it on the floor.

Then she glanced around the room. Everyone
was staring at her.

The group of officers from the Mandalay
were closest, and as she flicked her eyes to her immediate left,
she saw the lieutenant who’d intervened.

Handsome by human standards, he was tall and
broad, with grey eyes and cropped sandy-blond hair.

He also looked mortified, though he was
trying hard not to show it.

Part of her training as a priestess had
taught her to follow subtle micro expressions. Even though the guy
was clearly human, she’d been around enough in the past five years
to know what he was thinking.