Wrath of the Void Strider (41 page)

“How are you feeling?” she asked, and she moved to stand beside his recovery bed.  She finished wrapping and tucking her hair into a bun, and she held her cap under her arm.

“I’ve been better, but I’m alright,” he answered.  “How’s Valerie?”

“Doing great, last I heard.  She and the rest of her 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 bridge them back,” he said.  “Sorry I was out of it for so long.”

Zerki smiled warmly.  “You did just fine.”

He slipped out from under the covers and slowly swung his legs around to sit upright.  With great focus, he fought back a wave of nausea.  “Where are my clothes?”  For just a moment, his scar was visible through the side gap in his medical gown.

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

“Wrestling sharks.”

“Wrestling sharks?”

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

With a questioning look, Zerki regarded him.  “As far as I know?”  With a slight smile, she said, “Anyway, here—take this.”  She handed him a yellow pill and a cup of water.  “It’ll help with the nausea.”

“Thanks,” he said and rinsed down the pill.  His head began to clear almost immediately.  “Wow, that works fast.”  Slowly, he got to his feet.

“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 bulkhead.  “Meet me in the aft hangar bay.”

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 corridors.  He breathed in the cool air and smiled, before heading for his meeting with Zerki.  The starship’s breach had been patched while he was recovering, and repair crews now worked tirelessly on the badly damaged ventral hull.

Stepping into the hangar bay, 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, Valerie’s pink hair was matted to her scalp.  She laughed with Zerki 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 all about what happened up here,” she said.  “Are you okay?”

Gavin pulled away and nodded.  “Yeah, I’m alright.  I’ll be in counseling for the rest of my life, probably, but I’m okay 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
, right?”

“That’s the plan.”  She 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 time on Thasad, spoke of the wonders of the grand capital and her meeting with the ithiral guardian.

In time, their shuttlecraft docked with the Orion Fleet battleship, and they disembarked.  They marched along the
Indiana
’s corridors to a briefing room, where they were greeted by holographic projections of the Union’s veteran diplomats, as well as the image of Admiral Decker.

The
Draconian
’s Grand Ecclesiarch soon arrived with a group of his personal guards, and they spread out along the walls as he stepped inside.  Dressed in holographically accented white vestments, he smiled sheepishly at seeing Gavin and Valerie, and he humbly bowed.  Gavin stood up and shook his hand, causing Ithiri’on to wince.  Uncertainly, he returned the gesture and awkwardly laughed.

“That particular form of greeting demands much from my people, as the sensation of touch is sacred to us,” he said.  “There is an openness your people nurture that I find to be refreshingly peculiar.”

Gavin withdrew his grip.  “How do ithirals greet one another?”

“It’s similar, but we don’t make contact.”  Again, he extended his hand palm down, and he guided Gavin’s hand under his, palm up.  “We linger until each participant has sensed the other’s body heat.”  He breathed in sharply.  “There,” he said.  “That is the spark of recognition, and once felt, an acknowledgment scent is issued.”  He smiled slightly.  “Like that.”

“Acknowledgment scent?”

“Correct.”  Ithiri’on cleared his throat and wagged his head rapidly.  “I am awaiting yours, most honored philosopher.”

“Trust me, I don’t make any scents that you’d enjoy.”  Gavin intently studied the ithiral leader.  From his horns, he detected a faint haze, and he raised his brows appreciatively.  “You use aromas to communicate, in addition to your speech.”

“Of course we do.  How else would you safeguard against deception?”

With a dry laugh, Gavin said, “We don’t.”

Ithiri’on paled.  “I understand it now.  Your unsurpassed honesty has garnered the favor of the gods.  Perhaps that is why we were judged so harshly.”

“Perhaps,” he muttered and cast guilty eyes to the deck.  Awkwardly, he gestured for Ithiri’on to sit at the table.  “Let’s get started.”

As Ithiri’on spoke, Gavin and Valerie took turns translating his words.  Hours passed as they discussed the precise terms of the ithirals’ surrender.  As the summit drew to a close, Ithiri’on pledged to end the ithiral crusade, and he vowed to help the ellogons rebuild their devastated worlds.  He was asked to allow a Union military presence aboard every battle station for as long as the ithirals were working toward full integration.

“I’m inclined to allow this,” said Ithiri’on.  “But before I do, I would ask one thing in return.”

Dryden tensed visibly, as the diplomats stirred.  He drew a deep breath.  “If it’s reasonable, I’m sure we can accommodate your request.”

“In exchange, I request that the philosopher and the dreamer would spend time on Ithiria, our home world, to share their wisdom with our elders.”

Dryden glanced toward Gavin and Valerie.  “How much time?”

“As much time is it takes to fully reveal all of their divine insights.”  He straightened and regarded Dryden hopefully.  “I expect it will take several years, but the splendors of Ithiria are sure to keep them engaged, if not inspire them to even greater levels of divinity.”

With a reserved nod, Dryden said, “I need a moment alone with them.  We’ll be right back.”  He waved Gavin and Valerie toward an adjacent operations room, and he vanished briefly from sight.  He reappeared as they sealed the hatch behind them.

“No way,” said Gavin.  “I’m not getting stranded on a strange planet full of people who were just trying to exterminate us!  I don’t care how amazing Ithiri’on says it is.”

Dryden raised his hand.  “Your presence there would give us tremendous insight into their military capabilities, and it would guarantee a lasting peace.”  He looked to Valerie.  “I would make certain the two of you went together.”

Valerie considered for a drawn moment.  “I’ll go if he goes, but not now.  Decker, you need to make them wait.  It’s much too soon.  Who knows how many of their people would come after us seeking revenge for the lives they lost?  This guy’s deep into the whole Holy Ithiral thing, but since he’s their leader, I’d be shocked if he wasn’t.  I promise you there are hordes of vengeance crazed loved ones just itching to settle the score.”

“You make a good point.”  He thought awhile.  “I’ll ensure your arrival is conditional on their full integration.  That should buy you several years, at least.”

Gavin chewed on the inside of his lip.  “Fine,” he conceded.  “On the condition that they’re fully integrated before we make the journey.”

“Then it’s agreed.”  He stood straighter.  “Our Union owes you both a debt of gratitude.  Only once in a very great while does a man live to see heroes of your caliber.”

They returned to the briefing room.

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 Union individuals or merchant navy starships.

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 sadly as he passed Fogg a heavy iron box.  “Any way I can convince you to stay?”

Fogg smiled politely and lowered the 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.”  He shook Fogg’s hand firmly.  “Good luck.”

Taryn 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 glumly.  “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 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 something used.

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

Quietly, he walked the star freighter’s corridors and exited through her 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 crawlways 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 tall, dark haired man 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.