Voyage of the Sanguine Shadow 1: Shadow Galactic (7 page)

“We got space for you,” he declared, and scooted
closer to his fellow salvagers.

Relieved, Gavin smiled and glanced to his
friends.  “This guy’s alright,” he assured them and gestured to Cajun’s table. 
It took a moment for Taryn to realize she had been gazing at D’Arro.  She shook
it off and hurried to her friends.

“You know this guy?” asked Cajun, as Taryn and
Takeo sat down on either side of Gavin.

“For about 13 years,” answered Takeo, and he
offered his hand.  “I’m Takeo, and this is Taryn.”

After everyone had shared introductions, Taryn
said, “I haven’t known Gavin quite that long, but I do know him… biblically?”

Cajun’s salvagers erupted into laugher, and Cajun
nearly shot his coffee through his nose.  “Whoa, Gavin!  Man, you must be
packing a serious nine-iron!”

His ears bright red, Gavin said, “No… come on.” 
He cast a flustered glance Taryn’s way.  Much to his surprise, she suddenly
straddled him, kissing him deeply as the others hooted and cheered.  “That’s
not fair,” he gasped after she disengaged and returned to her place at the
table.

“I know,” she said with a wink.  “But you love
it.”

As the table dissolved into bawdy jokes and war
stories, he stole a glance toward Valerie.  He startled to find she was already
staring directly at him.  With a smirk and a shake of her head, she looked away
and focused on whatever Zerki was saying.

His shoulders sagged, and Gavin poked at his beef
mash.

“
Air power
is like poker.  A second-best hand is like none at all – it will cost you dough
and win you nothing.
” –General George C. Kenney

The following morning,
Valerie met Gavin in the rec room.  He wore jeans, though his chest and feet
were bare.  She wore gray sweat pants, socks and a dark green sweatshirt, with
her carnation hair pulled back and clipped in place.  “You ready?” she asked,
and she picked up a bucket of tennis balls.

“Not exactly,” he answered.  “What are we doing,
again?”

“Captain wants me to test you for the Awareness.”

“I know that, but…  You’re going to be trying to
bean me with tennis balls?”

Valerie smiled and nodded.  “At first.  Just close
your eyes and let your extra senses guide you.  Ready?”

Gavin blew out his cheeks, closed his eyes and
nodded.  “I’m—ouch!”  The tennis ball made a loud smacking sound as it struck
his tensed, distinct abs.

“Keep your eyes closed,” said Valerie, and she
retrieved another ball.  She pitched it, striking him in the shoulder.  As
quickly as she could, she grabbed and hurled, hitting him in the chest, the leg
and in the shoulder again.  But the sixth one sailed wide, as did the next, and
the one after it.  He moved easily, fluidly, as if he knew instinctively where
the next ball was going to strike and how to position himself to avoid being
hit.

He cheered, his eyes wide as he grinned.  “I’m
doing it!” he cried, just before a tennis ball struck him full force between
the eyes.  He stumbled back and sat heavily on the ground, rubbing his stinging
forehead.

Valerie hissed, her hand over her mouth, and she
said, “Sorry, Gavin.  Are you OK?”

He shook it off.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  I think I’ve
got the hang of the tennis balls.”

“Great!”  She gripped another ball.  “Just a few
more.”

Handily, he rolled away into a crouch, rose to
stand and threaded Valerie’s volleys of tennis balls with a curve to the side
here, an arched back there, and a will-timed duck.  At last, he stood before
her and took her hand in his, squeezing firmly.  “I’m really done with the
tennis balls,” he whispered.

Her chest heaving, Valerie lowered his hand
slowly.  She breathed heavily, her face near his neck.  Closing her eyes, she
said, “Fine.  Table tennis is next,” and she pulled away.  With some effort and
with Gavin’s help, she unfolded two halves of a ping-pong table and set them
against one another.  As he put the net in place, she took up a bright orange
plastic ball and a pair of paddles.

Hours passed, and he consistently demonstrated his
Awareness in multiple games of table tennis, air hockey and boxing.  At last,
Valerie called an end to the exercises.  Her breath coming in gasps, she
stooped over her knees and said, “I think you’re ready.  You definitely have
it.  Grab a shower and meet me on the bridge in an hour.  Captain will show you
how to use the jump rig.”

“Sure thing.”  He offered a breathless smile. 
“That was fun.  Thanks, Valerie.”

Halfheartedly, she tossed her sweat-moistened
towel against his chest.  “No problem.”  She winked playfully.  “Yeah, it was
fun.”

Gavin pulled on his shirt, his socks and his
boots.  Before long, he had reached his cabin, shed his attire and stepped into
the shower.  The pressurized mist felt luxurious against his skin.

·· • ··

An hour later, D’Arro met Taryn, Takeo and five
others in the forward hold under the main bridge.  “Pretty soon,” he began,
“we’ll be starting up the jump drive.  Your friend’s never done this before, so
it could take a while before the PLA is ready to fire.  If he’s as good as the
captain says, it could take an hour, but it usually takes two.”  He glanced
toward several tiny vessels docked at the back of the bay.  “I wanted to show
you rookies our boarding sleds beforehand, let the vets give you a few
pointers.”

Taryn raised her hand.

“Don’t do that,” D’Arro advised.  “Speak your piece.”

“I’ve never had any training in this sort of
thing.”  She glanced to Takeo.  “I mean, he has… sort of, but not me.”

D’Arro smiled slyly.  “You’re ospyrean.  Your
friend could train his whole life and never have what you and I are born
with.”  He nodded toward Takeo.  “No offense.”

Takeo tilted his head slightly, his lips thin. 
“None taken.”

“Plus, it’s a cakewalk,” added D’Arro.  “The point
of this little outing is to give you both some field experience with the
HERC’s.”

“HERC?” asked Takeo.

D’Arro crossed to one of the sleds and tapped it
open, revealing the back half of an enclosable suit.  The front half remained
attached to the top portion of the sled.  “Hostile Environment Reconnaissance
and Combat.”  He gestured for Takeo to approach.  “Why don’t you lie down in
there and try this one on for size.”

·· • ··

On the deck above, Zerki led Gavin along a
brightly lit hall.  They soon stopped before a lift door that Zerki tapped
open.  “This will take us to the bridge,” she stated and entered before him. 
Once he was inside, the door slid closed, and they both experienced a brief
sensation of movement before the doors opened to the command deck.

Circular and wide, the bridge was well-lit and
bore the same light gray carpeting common to most of the starship’s interior. 
Its trim was black and pale blue.  To his right, Gavin spotted a second
chamber, its lighting dim.  It housed a slanted bed with ankle and wrist
restraints, as well as three walls with dormant displays.  “That’s the jump
rig,” Zerki explained.

Within a slightly sunken inner ring, encircled by
handrails and a pathway that led to the various command stations, the captain’s
chair stood proudly upon its dais, close behind the helm.  Seated at the helm,
Krane raised his hand without turning around, acknowledging the presence of his
captain.  He was a tall fellow with hazel eyes and a lanky build.  He shaved
his head twice a week, and he always covered it with either a baseball cap or a
leather fedora, depending on his mood.  Presently, Krane Eichmann wore a
baseball cap.

Collins rose from the captain’s chair to greet
Zerki with an excited smile.  “Ma’am,” he said.

“I’ll take over,” she replied, and she bowed
somewhat.

“Aye, aye,” he said and saluted.  “Mind if I stick
around for the jump?”

“Could take a while.”

He nodded resolutely.  “I’m aware of that.”  He
glanced to Gavin.  “Might be bad luck to have anything but a woman sitting in
that rig.  Could be an albatross.”

Zerki laughed warmly and shook her head.  “You
lovingly nurture so many superstitions, it’s amazing you get anything done.”

Collins winked.  “Ship’s still flying.”

With a quiet chuckle, Zerki indicated the scanning
station and the woman who was manning it.  “You can hang out over there.”

Facing Gavin, she waved for him to follow and led
him to the darkened jump rig chamber.  “Have a seat and concentrate on the
overhead navigation display.  You’re going to see dozens of images flash
through your mind’s eye after I switch on the cephalotronic.”  As Gavin
settled, she began securing the wrist and ankle restraints.  “They’re meant to
help you get a sense of where our destination is, relative to our current
position, but for first-timers, I’m told that can be a bit of a shock.”  She
held a reflective band and prepared to wrap it around his forehead.  “Most
Navigators don’t need the restraints after four or five jumps.”  Zerki
inspected the headband, and with a satisfied nod, she asked, “You ready?”

Puffing out his cheeks, Gavin paused a moment to
hold her stare.  With a determined nod, he said, “I am.”

Zerki smiled.  “Here we go,” and she switched on
the cephalotronic.

·· • ··

Down in the forward cargo bay, D’Arro and his team
instructed Taryn and Takeo in the usage of their armored pressure suits.  Three
security team members hovered over Takeo’s sled, explaining to him the finer
points of the power-assisted suit’s functions.  He listened intently, noting
every menu, system and subsystem.

“How’s it feel?” asked D’Arro as he checked
Taryn’s sled.

She felt the suit automatically adjust to her
body, fitting snugly all around within moments.  “Good, I think.  It’s hard to
say, since I’m just lying here.  Is there any way I can take this thing for a
test drive?”

D’Arro shook his head.  “Nope, but there’s a
training suit you two can take turns with as soon as your Navigator friend
starts doing his thing.”  He glanced toward a far corner, where an armored suit
hung limply from its moorings, its plates painted in gray primer.  “I wanted to
make sure your gear was calibrated in case time becomes a problem.”

“How do you mean?” Takeo interjected.

“It ain’t likely,” D’Arro began, “but your friend
could make this jump in half the normal time.”

Suddenly, alarms blared and warning lights
flashed.  The starship groaned and creaked loudly, deeply.  Metal whined near
the command module junction, and a recorded voice announced, “This is a General
Quarters alert!  This is not a drill!  I repeat: this is not a drill!  All
hands to jump stations!”

D’Arro swallowed hard.  “Or less.”

On the bridge, Krane scrambled to check the starship
for jump readiness, and the whole of the
Sanguine Shadow
was alive with
hurried movement.  “What’s going on?” asked Valerie as she stumbled into the
command room.  She glanced toward Gavin as he sat upright in the harness, his
eyes wide.

“The PLA is firing,” Zerki growled, and she shot a
flustered glance toward her Navigator as she returned to her seat.

Valerie recoiled.  “That fast?”

Her captain nodded sternly.

“But he was only…”  She trailed off and regarded
Gavin with undisguised awe.  “You were only in that thing for a minute!”  Her
mouth fell slightly open.  “How?”

He shrugged and answered, “I don’t know!”

Krane offered, “He transmitted an instant read
with perfect fidelity.  The
Shadow
’s aligning the particle fog as fast
as she’s processing the data.”  He glanced to the right half of his console. 
“Actually, I could use some help with these diagnostics, if you got a moment.”

“Of course,” Valerie replied, and she hurried to
Krane’s side.

Collins approached the captain.  “Can’t we stop it?”

Zerki shook her head.  “Impossible.  As soon as
the system gets a complete read, it fires.  It’s a safety precaution.”  She
tapped the last item on her list, and she rubbed her eyes.  “Of course, the
system was designed around your typical Navigator.”  With a dry laugh, she
looked to Gavin.  “Clearly, he’s not typical.”

“Clearly,” Collins affirmed.

A grave British man’s recorded voice declared
across all decks, “Turn away from any windows or external airlocks.  Do not
look directly at the lasers as they are firing.  Entanglement induction
commencing in five… four… three… two… one.”  A flash of blinding light lit up
every one of the
Sanguine Shadow
’s decks, nearly all of her chambers and
bays, and just as quickly, the searing brilliance was gone.  “Entanglement
induction complete.”

“We’re in Ixion space,” Krane announced.

Zerki stood up and scanned the view ahead of her. 
“Whereabouts?”

After a moment, her pilot replied, “At the inside
edge of the outer debris ring.”

“Status report?”

“All hands accounted for,” he answered after a
moment.  “No damage to report.  A perfect jump, Captain.”

With a nod, she leaned forward over her comm and
tapped the forward cargo bay’s channel.  “D’Arro, get your team ready.  You’re
disgorging in five minutes.”

“Aye, aye,” came his response, and he released the
comm button.  Puffing out his cheeks, he stretched his arms and back as he
approached his sled.  “You heard the captain!  Everyone, saddle up!”

“But we’re not ready!” Taryn protested from within
her sled.

“Trust the equipment,” D’Arro replied.  “Follow
orders and stay close, and we’ll all get back here in one piece.”  He settled
into his armored suit, and the sled closed over him, locking in place.  One by
one, the rest of his team did the same.  A countdown timer appeared upon his
suit’s internal display.  “You rookies try not to throw up.”

Takeo breathed as evenly as he could manage. 
“Right,” he exhaled.

Mechanical arms moved the sleds into position as
claxons trumpeted and warning lights spun.  The cargo bay depressurized, and
its doors drew open slowly, revealing the mottled abyss.  Taryn gritted her
teeth as the countdown reached zero, and her sled’s rockets fired.  “Oh,
shit
,”
she breathed, and she was launched out into space.

“Scanning station, report,” said Zerki.

“I’m reading a Turii-class cruiser, Captain,” a
young woman answered.  She had tied up her auburn hair into a sensible bun. 
“Three thousand clicks out and closing on our position.  It’s broadcasting an
ellogon signal.”

Zerki smiled shrewdly.  “The
Imperium
. 
Main screen, if you please.”  The display at the front of the bridge shifted,
the stars changed position, and the cruiser came into view.  It dwarfed the
Sanguine
Shadow
and had the look of a massive cylinder that had been tipped on its
side.  All manner of engines and hull had been jammed into opposing ends, and a
three-cannon turret sat atop the main deck, embedded under the bridge tower. 
Smaller turrets and massive counterweights sprang from the cylinder’s base and
crown.  Its bow sloped down, giving it the look of a capsized cargo ship.  A
gnarled ram prow jutted forth.

Valerie strained to see.  “Are those handrails on
the main deck?”

“It appears so,” answered Zerki.  “Perhaps the
ellogons enjoy a bit of fresh air from time to time.”