Voyage of the Sanguine Shadow 1: Shadow Galactic (27 page)

Two members of the heavy fire team were cut down,
and an ithiral warrior closed on a third.  Ajax slammed his ruined weapon into
the swordsman’s back, drawing his attention as he howled.  The warrior spun on
his heels, blade poised to strike.  His armor easily soaked the blows Ajax
landed upon it.

“Shoot where I shoot,” said Valerie, and she pulled
the trigger of her blaster, its barrel butted against the ithiral’s chest.  The
warrior lurched back and staggered before falling to the floor.  “I can
immobilize them for a second or two.”

“You got it,” said Ajax, and he lifted a heavy
blaster from a fallen squad mate.  She rested her arm upon Ajax’s, and he
tracked her shots.  Blaster bolts streamed from their weapons, drilling a hole
through the helmet of an approaching ithiral swordsman.

With an audible gasp, Ajax jumped as a warrior
dropped from the ceiling, directly in front of them.  The blade whispered as he
yelled and fired.  He crushed the trigger against its guard, even when the gun
begged for a moment to recharge, and the chest of his opponent’s armor glowed
white before peeling away.  Cauterized flesh and bone burst from the other
side, and Ajax caught his breath.  He turned to Valerie, grinning.  “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  She nodded toward the far door.

Ajax brought his blaster to bear on an ithiral as
she leapt through the air.  From the corner of his eye, he spied his recharge
indicator flashing red.  The attacker drew back her blade as Ajax squeezed the
trigger, but nothing happened.  A rush of horror washed over him.

“Plunge the blade into your neck,” Valerie
growled, and the warrior complied.

Ajax stepped back as his foe released her sword
and toppled forward.  “Remind me never to piss you off,” he chuckled and
dropped his emptied weapon.

Valerie said, “Behind you.”

Ajax pulled a hunting knife from his belt, spun
and lunged to receive his enemy.  Savagely, he thrust his blade through a tiny
gap in his opponent’s shoulder armor, down into the ithiral’s lungs.  The
warrior gurgled and slumped slightly, and Ajax plucked free his enemy’s sword. 
With a frenzied grin, he sliced off the ithiral’s head and charged into the
fray.

Haley took her time and fired into the melee, striking
an ithiral.  Wounded, it tapped another, and the pair of warriors faced her. 
They sprang away from the soldiers they had been battling, their blades held
high.  “Not good,” she whispered, and she hopped down to the ground as they
raced up the steps.  Doubling back, they were upon her in a flash.  As the
wounded warrior’s blade struck down, she met it with the power center of her
rifle and danced aside.  She jammed the exposed white-hot core through her
opponent’s thigh plating, and the ithiral howled in pain as it chewed through
flesh and bone.  She plucked his sword from his grip, bounded away and landed
atop a heap of debris near the front half of Ajax’s ruined weapon.

The remaining warrior advanced.

To the ithiral’s surprise, Haley leapt toward her
enemy, blade in hand.  She dropped her sword in midflight, hooked the warrior’s
neck in the crook of her elbow and bore him down into the pit of plasma left by
Ajax’s bisected hurricane blaster.  She tumbled through the air and landed on
the ground.

Instantly, the top half of the ithiral warrior burned
away.

A single attacker remained.  Silently, she disengaged
and bolted with unnatural speed through the doors in the back.  Brucker gave
chase, and his surviving team members raced after.  They followed the ithiral
through the administration building, blasting as they ran, but she dodged and
tumbled, avoiding every shot.

Valerie hurried to keep up.

Their opponent led them into a soaring hall, to a
set of vaulted double doors that allowed passage into the beacon module.  She
stopped and turned around.  Behind her, a line of light ran up along the seam,
and the doors swiftly and silently opened.  She stood defiantly in front of the
opened beacon chamber.

“Bye,” muttered one of Brucker’s soldiers, and he
raised his blaster.

“Wait,” said Brucker.  “Don’t shoot.  Everybody,
hold your fire!  That thing’s just standing there for a reason.”

Panting, Valerie caught up with the strike team. 
Looking to the ithiral warrior, she gasped, “On… your knees.”

The ithiral warrior disengaged her helmet’s seal
and lifted it free.  She narrowed her eyes at Valerie.  “The corruptor has
come,” she seethed, her mouth movements mismatched with her words.  “I can no
longer hear your voice, corruptor.  I am protected by the righteous will of the
guardian of this sacred chamber, and he will see you dead!”  Grinning, she
crossed her arms and stepped aside as a deep thump rang out from the chamber
beyond.

A looming shadow lumbered behind her.  Each
footfall shook the ground.  Gears whirred, and air pistons hissed.  As tall as
the towering doorway, a machine stomped into full view, standing upon broad,
armored legs.  Its waist connected with a massive platform that resembled a
throne dressed in holographic symbols.  At the base of the throne, bulky
mechanical arms served as cannon mounts, and from its crown, a fractured black
obelisk jutted straight up.  Within the throne, the ithiral guardian peered out
upon Valerie and the strike team.  His hands rested upon control pads.  Dressed
in gloss black robes with an upswept collar, he sat taller than most of the
ithirals stood.  His clothing was trimmed with white.

“Open fire!” Brucker shouted, and his team
unleashed the full fury of their weapons.  Blaster bolts and laser lances
stopped well short of their target, however, banished by ithiral shields.

The juggernaut stomped closer, and the guardian
raised his hand.  “Stop!” he boomed in English, and the ithiral warrior spun
around to stare up at him.  Blasters and lasers continued to splash harmlessly
upon the energy barrier.  Looking to the woman standing close by, he shook his
head and said in Ithiral, “It has been decided by the elders.  She is no
corruptor.  She is the dreamer.”

“The… the dreamer?”

The guardian nodded remorsefully, and the warrior
looked stricken.

Brucker faced Valerie.  “What are they saying?”

“I think he’s about to surrender.”  Her heart
pounded as the guardian turned to her.  She held his humbled gaze, and Brucker
called for a cease-fire.  She stepped forward, standing beside the crestfallen
warrior.

In Ithiral, the guardian said, “I don’t have the
authority to surrender for our people.  Only a governor retains that honor. 
But on behalf of the ithiral people whose minds you’ve touched, I beg your
forgiveness, though I expect no mercy in the face of such great offense.”  The
machine in which he sat fell quiet, and he climbed down from the throne, dropping
to his knees at Valerie’s feet.

Desperately, she glanced to Brucker.  Solemnly, he
nodded toward the guardian and gave her an unconcerned thumbs-up.  She frowned
and looked back to the ithiral supplicant. 
What would you say, Gavin?
 
She rested her hand upon the guardian’s head stalks.  He twitched and tensed at
the contact.  Clearing her throat, she nodded and lifted her hand.  Nodding
again, she set it back down and thinned her lips.  “It’s good to seek
forgiveness.  Seek it every day from everyone you’ve wronged.”  She squeezed
one of his stalks, and he yelped.  “Today, I forgive you.  Tomorrow, you may
ask again.”

Tearfully, the guardian bowed forward, touched his
forehead to Valerie’s boots, and he wept.  “I will, and on every day that
follows.”

·· • ··

High overhead aboard the
Wraithfin
, the
bridge crew hurried to restore power to the shields.  It was a slow motion
dance of shouts, fear and resolve.  The damage she had taken from the ithiral
citadel was more extensive than initial reports had indicated, and her thrust
core was slow to come back online.

Zerki crouched beside Gavin, cradling his head. 
She watched as the ithiral fleet drifted into firing range.  Gazing upon her
Navigator, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Gavin.”  Holding him tightly, she hissed,
“I’m sorry,” and a tear splashed into his hair.  She closed her eyes.

The communications officer yelled, “Captain Hull! 
Captain, an enemy battle station is hailing us!”

Zerki opened her eyes.  She whispered, “What?”

“Main screen!” barked Hull, as he stood hunched
over his station.  “Put it through, put it through!”

A uniformed ithiral appeared onscreen, huge
compared to those around him.  He sat within a geometrically ornate throne. 
Behind him, a dark obelisk rose from his seat, dressed in brilliant holographic
symbols.  He leaned forward and spoke sternly in Ithiral.

Hull looked to Zerki.  “What’s he saying?”

She shook her head and glanced around.  “Get me a
first aid kit.”  She lay Gavin back down and shifted to her knees as the tactical
officer hurried to her side with the kit.  She retrieved smelling salts, tore
open the packet and waved it under Gavin’s nostrils.  He gasped awake and sat
upright, rubbing his nose and wagging his head.  It took a moment for his
stupor to pass.

The ithiral spokesman repeated himself, his voice
agitated.

“Hold on,” muttered Gavin.  Woozily, he blinked as
the ospyrean helped him to his feet.  He glanced to the view screen as he
leaned against the bridge railing, and he frowned.  “You again?”

The ithiral spokesman smiled brightly at seeing
Gavin.  “The philosopher,” he breathed.  “I am governor of the
Draconian
,
and on behalf of my people, I wish to surrender to you.  It would be my great
honor and privilege to formalize it in person, though I expect no mercy in the
face of such great offense.”

Squinting, Gavin studied the familiar face. 
“You’re serious.”

“I understand your doubt, philosopher, and my
shameful actions have warranted it.  My life is forfeit, should you deem it a
fit payment for my transgressions.”  He pressed his colorful pistol against his
neck, and the power meter began to charge.

“Stop that,” Gavin sighed.  “Just… put the gun
down.”  He glanced to Zerki briefly and slowly shook his head.  “I, uh, accept
your surrender.  Send someone over in a few hours to sign some papers.”  He
sagged over the rail for a moment and held the sides of his head.

“My gratitude is endless, philosopher.  I know you
have much to teach us.”

The view screen went dark.

“Captain Hull,” said the scanning officer, “they’ve
lowered their shields!”

“Did I hear you right, Gavin?” Hull asked.  “Did
you just accept their surrender?”

Suddenly, the
Puerto Rico
’s main cannons
started hitting their mark.  She was joined by the remaining warships as they
ripped into the outer hulls of ithiral citadels.  There were few missiles left
to fire, but every one streaked through the void, striking its target.

Leaning over the comm, Hull said, “All starships,
disengage!  All starships, disengage and move to the rally point!”

The fleet commander demanded, “Captain Hull,
explain yourself!”

“Sir, they’re trying to surrender!”

A pause followed, and the
Wraithfin
’s
bridge crew watched a citadel break up completely.  “By God, I think you’re
right.”  On all channels, the fleet commander issued the order to fall back to
the rally point.

Still, many of the Union’s warships continued
their onslaught.

“I said fall back!” barked the fleet commander. 
“Everyone, hold your fire!”

Several starships disengaged, but dozens ignored
the order.  The
Indiana
moved into position between the
Draconian
and
the destroyers of Pegasus Fleet.  She took several direct hits before the rest
of the Star Fleet at last silenced their guns.

“
Love
comes unseen; we only see it go.
” –Austin Dobson

The
Wraithfin
’s medical
bay was bright with monitoring readouts.  “How are you feeling?” asked Zerki as
she stood near Gavin's recovery bed.  She finished wrapping and tucking
her hair into a bun, and she held her cap under her arm.

“I’m alright,” he answered.  “How’s Valerie?”

“Doing great, last I heard.  Her and the rest of
the strike team should be arriving any minute, now.”  She glanced up at his
vitals.  “Not that he had much choice, but Brucker seemed fine with returning
on a shuttle.”

“Of course, now that they’re already here, I could
probably tunnel them back,” he said.  “Sorry I was out of it for so long.”

Zerki laughed warmly.  “You did just fine.”

He slipped out from under the covers and swung his
legs around to sit upright.  For just a moment, his scar was visible
through the side gap in his medical gown.  “Where are my clothes?”

Zerki glanced toward a nearby closet.  “In
there.  How'd you get the scar?”

“Wrestling sharks.”  Gavin stood up slowly.

“Wrestling sharks?”

He chuckled and stretched his arms.  “As far
as you know.”

With a slight smile, Zerki said, “Get dressed. 
The ithirals will be docking with the
Indiana
in less than an hour, and
we need you and Valerie aboard to translate for us.  You up for it?”

Gavin smiled and nodded.  “You know me.”

“I’m glad I do.”  Zerki squeezed his shoulder and
walked toward the door.  “See you in the cargo hold.”

The door closed behind her, and he donned his
dress whites.  After making sure his uniform was in order, he stepped out into
the
Wraithfin
’s halls.  He breathed in the cool air and smiled, before
making his way to the main shuttle hangar and cargo bay.  Her breach had been
patched, and repair crews worked tirelessly on the corvette’s badly damaged
ventral hull.

He stepped into the main cargo bay, where he found
Zerki, Valerie and eight surviving members of the strike team.  Crewmen carried
the bodies of the fallen from the shuttle.  Smudged with grime and blood, her
pink hair matted to her scalp, Valerie laughed with her captain and nodded as
she wiped at her eyes.  Her gaze drifted to Gavin, and she beamed.  He hurried
to her side, and they shared a warm, lingering embrace.

“Captain was telling me about what happened out
there,” she said.  “You doing OK?”

Gavin pulled away and nodded.  “Yeah, I’m
alright.  I’ll be in counseling for the rest of my life, probably, but I’m OK
right now.”  He looked past her to the shuttle.  “How are you holding up?  How
did it go down there?”

“She needs to be debriefed, first,” Brucker
interjected.

Valerie rolled her eyes.  “I have to get cleaned
up real quick.  I’ll tell you all about it on the flight over.”

Gavin grinned.  “We’re heading to the
Indiana
?”

“That’s the plan.”  She kissed his lips and
straightened his uniform, brushing off the dirt she had transferred to it.  “Be
right back.”  With a casual salute, she regarded Brucker and exited the cargo
bay.

Valerie soon returned, dressed now in her formal
white uniform, and she joined Gavin and Zerki within the passenger compartment
of a silver shuttlecraft.  Her hair was still damp.

The shuttle’s canopy curved steeply toward the
nose, and the transport vessel had the look of an aerodynamic metro bus.  It
rested upon landing struts.  As soon as the bay was clear, the atmosphere was
evacuated, and the hangar doors drifted open.  The shuttle lifted off, and her
thrusters pushed her out into the void.

Valerie told Gavin and Zerki about her adventures
on Thasad, spoke of the wonders of the grand capital and her meeting with the
ithiral guardian.  In time, they docked with the Orion Fleet battleship and
disembarked.  Veteran diplomats awaited them, and the group, in its entirety,
marched along the
Indiana
’s halls to a briefing room.

The
Draconian
’s governor soon arrived with
a group of his personal guards, and they spread out along the walls as he
stepped inside.  He smiled sheepishly at seeing Gavin and Valerie, and he
humbly bowed.  Gavin stood up and shook his hand, causing the large ithiral to
wince.  Uncertainly, the governor returned the gesture and awkwardly laughed.

Hours passed as they discussed the precise terms
of the ithirals’ surrender.  By the end of the meeting, the ithirals had
pledged to end their crusade, and they vowed to help the ellogons rebuild their
devastated worlds.  They agreed to a human military presence aboard their
citadels as they worked toward full integration with the Galactic Union of
Allied Worlds.  In exchange, they insisted Gavin and Valerie serve as ithiral
spiritual leaders.  They requested that both spend several years on their home
world teaching their ways to the ithiral elders.

Union diplomats agreed to the visit, on the
condition it would not take place until full integration with the Union had
occurred.  Treaties were stamped and signed, and the Thasad Convention was
entered into galactic law.  It named the ellogon remnant as a fully vested
member of the Union, to receive full aid and support from all humanitarian
efforts.  It listed the steps that would be taken to ensure a smooth inclusion
of the Ithiral Dominion, and it nullified any and all outstanding ellogon
contracts that targeted specific members or merchant navy starships of the
Union.

After an exhausting day of meetings, Valerie,
Gavin and Zerki returned to the
Wraithfin
.  In the morning, she would be
heading back to Edenbridge for a celebration honoring the historic treaty. 
Fleet Admiral Dryden D. Decker looked forward to congratulating them in person.

They retired to Gavin’s chambers, where the three
companions talked late into the night.

·· • ··

Aboard the
Sanguine Shadow
, docked at a Ry’lyeh
landing spire, Collins looked on with some degree of sadness as he passed Fogg
a heavy iron box.  “Any way I can convince you to stay?”

Fogg smiled politely and lowered his container to
his side.  “There is not.  It will be years before Dr. Stone will have enough
time to begin restoring me to my previous state.  Perhaps then, I can book
passage with your vessel, if you are willing to indulge an old friend in the
trivial matter of transportation.”

Collins laughed warmly.  “Would be an honor, old
friend.”  He shook Fogg’s hand firmly.  “Good luck.”

Taryn stepped away from D’Arro’s side and embraced
Fogg tightly for a moment.  Pulling away uneasily, she regarded him.  “That
feels so weird to hug you.”

“My body temperature is relatively lower than
yours, and my skin cannot be described as supple.”

Taryn snickered.  “I didn’t mean it that way.” 
She stole a quick hug and stood back.  “Good luck, Fogg.  I’ll miss you.”

He smiled sadly.  “I do not enjoy this sensation,”
he whispered as tears flooded his coal-black eyes.  “And yet, through it, my
affection for you deepens, Taryn Sikes.  I…  I will miss you too.”  With a
determined nod, he took his leave and returned to his cabin to gather up his
things.  Dressed in a T-shirt, denim pants and boots given to him by Cajun, he
took up a backpack filled with other donations of clothes and essentials.  From
his tablet, he navigated to his bank account and took stock of his wealth.  It
wasn’t enough to buy any kind of new starship, but it might be enough for a
decommissioned research vessel.

With a decisive nod, Fogg lingered at the door and
turned off the light.

Quietly, he walked the starship’s halls and exited
through the forward airlock.  He made his way to the nearest municipal shuttle
station.  Despite a few sandstorms, he had reached it by sundown.

Fogg joined the crowd as they milled about on a
wide, gritty platform.  A city of domed buildings surrounded him, nestled in
the sandy surface, connected by roads and walkways.  After wading through the
crowd at the information kiosk, he stepped inside the shuttle station.

The building’s roof soared high overhead, its
walls curving gently inward.  Naked pipes and vents hung from the ceiling.  The
entire floor was a grid of red steel grating, and footpaths had been marked by
brightly colored tape.   Shop lights shone from a multitude of fixtures, and
large backlit fans turned slowly behind enormous vents.  Far to his right, a
deck extended from the main building into the cool evening air, awaiting the
arrival of the next interplanetary vessel.  Above the wall-length doorway,
screens displayed arrival times, departure times, points of origin and starships’
destinations.

Near the ticket booth, a dark haired man—absurdly
tall for a human—waited with crossed arms.  At his side, a byriani woman
scanned the travel information.  Suddenly grinning, Fogg approached the pair. 
“You are here,” he said.

“I should hope so,” Takeo answered, and he
uncrossed his arms as he returned the smile.

“Hey, Fogg,” said Filan.

“Where is Bruce Cajun?”

She exhaled sadly.  “He stayed on the
Shadow
.”

Fogg nodded.  “We will see him again.”  He glanced
toward the display board.  “What is our destination?”

“Well,” Takeo began, “I was thinking of the
auction shipyards at either Calbuco’s Moon or New Falkirk.  Calbuco’s is well
established and favors humans, but they have so many third party agents now,
it’s hard to know if you’re really getting a good deal.  New Falkirk is a
British colony, and it’s still completely municipal, but that could work in our
favor.  They’re in deep for some recent infrastructure upgrades, so they’re
more likely to sell low for cash up front.”  He regarded Fogg.  “I assume we’re
not doing payments?”

“I would prefer to avoid the experience of being
indebted to another party.  It does not seem… pleasant.”

Takeo nodded.  “That was my thinking, too.”  He
shoved his hands into his long coat’s pockets.  “Which one sounds better to
you?”

Fogg answered, “I am curious to visit New Falkirk.”

“New Falkirk it is,” said Takeo, and he purchased
three tickets.

They sat down in an aisle of hard-backed chairs,
and they talked quietly as they waited for their shuttle to arrive.  At last,
it was their turn to board, and they crossed the vaulted lobby to the outside
deck.  Tall and wide, the starship before them was painted white and bore a red
“43” on each flank near the nose.  She was unpretentious in form, with a sloped
cockpit and hunched dorsal cargo hold.  Directional thruster arrays swept back
from the cockpit, following the curves of the hull, and crowned the passenger
entrance bay and crew hatch.  Two chrome-capped secondary thrusters jutted
straight back from the aft section, leading to a pair of guidance wings.  Her
main engine housing stood nearly as tall as the entire shuttle.

“After you,” Takeo said to Filan, and they
boarded.  Star marshals stood within the passenger section, and a friendly
crewman collected their tickets, though he paused to study Fogg’s features.  He
seemed about to ask Fogg a question, but abandon that line of thought with a
shake of his head.  Takeo, Filan and Fogg settled in and soon heard the engines
prime.  Her bay doors sealed shut, and the passenger starship disengaged from
the docking clamps.

Fogg closed his eyes and felt the rush of sudden
acceleration.  He listened to the passengers talk about the clouds and the
stars.  He listened to Takeo and Filan talk quietly with each other and smiled
at hearing her musical laughter.

Their pilot announced that the shuttle was in
queue for the jump to warp, after which they would be traveling to Ayr System. 
Upon arriving, they would be landing at the New Falkirk space port.  Their starship
quickly achieved full warp.

Nearly a day had passed before they arrived in New
Falkirk’s voidspace.  Filan and Takeo gushed about the beauty of the recently
terraformed world, pointing to the landmarks they spotted on approach.  They
admired the distant grandeur of their destination city.

Sooner than he preferred, the shuttle had docked. 
Fogg didn’t open his eyes until the passenger bay door ramped fully open.  Takeo
offered his hand.  “You ready?”

Fogg nodded, and he drew a deep breath.  “I am
ready.”  He pushed against the arm rests and got quickly to his feet.

He donned a dark blue jacket as they stepped out into
a gentle, breezy rain.  It buffeted rows upon rows of soaring palms.  The trees
stood starkly against white roads and suspension trains, against the clustered
domes and globes of New Falkirk.  Spires rose from globular nexuses, standing
behind dozens of sky car traffic lanes.  For every residential high-rise, there
was a factory or processing plant.  On the horizon of the ash-white cityscape,
a grand hospital doubled as a bold architectural wonder worthy of postcards and
any tourist’s eager lens.

“Do you know where the auction shipyards are
located?” asked Fogg.

Filan beckoned him closer.  “This way,” she
answered with an encouraging smile.  “There’s a train station right over
there.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” Takeo added.

After a moment of consideration, Fogg nodded.  “I
am not blessed with the hunches afforded you by being human, but I am likewise
experiencing a sense of general positivity regarding our mutual endeavor.”  He
zipped up his dark blue jacket and jammed his hands in its pockets. 

Takeo laughed jovially.  “Well put,” he said with
a grin, and they hurried through the rain.

·· • ··

In high orbit above Ry’lyeh, the
Wraithfin
docked at Edenbridge Station, along with the rest of the Union’s Star Fleet. 
Dryden boarded a shuttle heading for the grand harborage and soon disembarked. 
He was greeted by dozens of starship captains, and they cheered and saluted his
arrival.  For several minutes, he heard their stories and shared a few of his
own.  In time, he made his way to the
Wraithfin
and met Captain Hull at
the C-Deck airlock.