[05] Elite: Reclamation (15 page)

‘I will leave immediately.’

Cuthrick nodded. ‘Your plan?’

Dalk smiled grimly. ‘Find her and bring her back, naturally. Re-establish the lineage.’

‘And where do you intend to look? How would you find one girl amongst billions? Dozens of inhabited systems?’

‘I’ve got a pretty shrewd idea where to start. There are few hereabouts who have the means and audacity to snatch an Imperial convoy out of space.’

Cuthrick nodded and bowed. Dalk acknowledged with a slightly lower bow.

‘Two weeks, Patron Dalk. We cannot risk a delay. Chione must be ours again.’

The holofac communication ended, leaving Dalk alone. He slung on his thick leather travelling cloak and checked the holster for his Whittaker Twinlock before striding purposefully out of the suite and heading towards the docking levels.

***

Light crackled in the depths of empty space. A ship appeared for a brief moment before being lost to sight. Shrewd observers would have seen it reappear thousands of kilometres from its previous position. The process repeated a number of times, the ship tracking randomly across the vast expanses of emptiness, a faint glow emanating from its drives.

Hassan had already shutdown every non-essential system aboard his Eagle. Next came the drives, shields and the astrogation systems, even the navigation lights were extinguished. The heat vents cooled from a fiery orange, through cherry to deep mauve and then finally a dull grey. The ship drifted impotently in the deep void, unseen and virtually undetectable. With no discernible energy emission the Eagle wouldn’t appear on a passive scan at all, even an active scan would show it as an inanimate object; a rock or other similar space debris. Hassan even let the ship tumble gently around its central axis to further support the illusion.

He sat and watched the passive scanners for almost an hour before he was satisfied he’d made good his escape. The cockpit cooled, condensation freezing on the inside of the canopy with a faint crackle.

He’d done it. He’d lifted contraband from the most feared crime boss in this part of space. Now he’d command respect with the Guild, for sure. He grinned and leant back in his flight chair, wistfully gazing out across the light years, hands behind his head, whistling jauntily.

He relaxed for a moment considering his position. He accessed the on-board inventory systems, querying the hold and running a check on its contents.

The computer paused for a long moment before responding.

Hold Inventory: 1 Ton Capacity Canister. Contains 1x Saud Kruger ThruSpace Hermetic Bio Support Pod.

Hassan blinked at the display. He had no idea what the description meant. Saud Kruger was a high tech, high cost manufacturer of luxury items. He gestured for more information. The computer responded a second time.

Saud Kruger ThruSpace Hermetic Bio Support Pod. Manifest error: Internal cargo type unknown.

He’d have to set down in order have a look, it was too risky to open a cargo pod in zero-G if you didn’t know what it contained. The system map indicated a small rocky planet not too far away; that would do. It wasn’t inhabited; it was just used as a way marker for hyperspace navigation.

He countered the rotation of his ship and nudged it in a new direction.

***

The cargo bay of the
Talon
was nothing like the size of the one within the
Caduceus
. The Eagle was a small vessel; originally a single person multi-role ship aimed at the impecunious end of the market. They were no longer manufactured and were now very firmly in the ‘not quite a classic’ and ‘a notch above an old wreck’ category. They had three particular virtues; they were cheap, reliable and easy to repair. Hundreds of thousands of the things had been made, so parts were still readily available. It was outclassed by pretty much everything short of a Lifter, but at this price point, nothing could beat it.

The cargo bay was cramped, with space for only four of the standard issue freight canisters once all the necessary flight equipment took up its fair share of space. Yes, you could squeeze a little more in if you had to, but only a mad sadomasochist would venture into space without an autopilot and some form of weaponry.

The small cockpit of the ship naturally sat on the centreline of the vessel, but the interior was arranged such that the cargo bay was located towards the rear of the hull, with the rest of the space below the cockpit being assigned to a simple combined living, eating and sleeping area.

Hassan watched the rocky surface of the planet rise up towards him as he gently guided the ship downwards. The landing gear unfolded and extended, adjusting for the uneven terrain. A moment later the contact lights turned green and the ship settled amidst a brief flurry of dust. Hassan looked at the g-meter. It was reading zero point three. Enough to be useful. He cut power to the drives and the main power plant.

 Hassan lowered himself from the cockpit into the living area, ignoring the ladder that led between the two levels. On connecting with the hull plates his boots clamped on to the floor, providing additional stability. Thus secured he made his way backwards through the ship until he reached the hatch to the cargo bay. He spun the vacuum seal open and proceeded in.

The pilfered canister remained where the automechs had stored it, bolted securely to the floor and vertical struts of the bay. He stomped his way across to inspect it. The canister seemed quite mundane, its exterior marked with dents and rust. Canisters were general purpose devices used for years and years before eventually being recycled. Hassan thumped the release with the back of his hand and the canister’s hatch groaned and swung open.

Inside, the canister was pretty much empty. Hassan felt a crushing disappointment. He’d hoped for exotic luxuries, maybe silks or spices given the nature of the Imperial ship he’d helped to ambush. Not that the cargo mattered as long as he could demonstrate the audacity of his heist, but if it was just an empty canister, there'd be nothing even to fence.

Then as his eyes adjusted, he saw the white pod. It lay secured in the very centre. He stepped closer. It was featureless and smooth surfaced, like nothing he’d seen before. There were no obvious control points or interface. After a brief inspection he ran his hands over the exterior.

As he did so, holofac displays appeared, providing a series of what looked to be medical diagnostic read-outs. For the most part they appeared green, but two were showing red. They were complex and technical. Hassan had no idea what they might mean. One control was obvious though.

Open/Close. Obvious enough, let’s see.

Hassan pointed his finger at it tentatively and then stood back. There was a brief hiss and then the pod split in two, the top folding back in a smooth ballet of sophisticated mechanical design. He looked in.

‘Woah …’

A naked woman lay there, shrouded in a thin mist of slowly rising vapour. Hassan peered over the edge of the pod in bemusement. She was entirely still save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest. After a moment he stretched out his arm and reached towards her. As he did so her eyes snapped open and she looked across at him. Her stare was feral, fierce and wild.

Hassan stumbled back as she emitted a blood curdling shriek.

Noise; the blistering discharge of weapons. The fear of capture; heart pumping with exertion. Running, fleeing, panic, desperation and despair. The possibility of reprieve cruelly dashed away. Confrontation, defiance. Pain; her chest on fire, metal against bone. Swirling darkness followed by nothing, until …

An arm, reaching towards her out of the darkness. Fingers outstretched, grasping, reaching. She screamed in terror.

The arm disappeared out of her sight. Everything was blurred, she could see little but a white glow surrounding her with a small rectangle of darkness within which was the vague outline of an unfamiliar dark-skinned face. She screamed again, her body convulsing, contorting into a foetal position save for her arms which wildly thrashed about trying to find some purchase within the whiteness. Cold. So cold!

Her fingers found an edge and she pulled herself up only to overbalance and fall into a dizzying spin interrupted by a hard unforgiving surface. She could see dark rust-stained corrugated metal within the narrow limits of her vision. Bile rose in her throat and she vomited, acid burning her throat and mouth, retching hard, unable to control the spasms that jerked her body.

Ahead she could see a space. Somewhere to hide? She heard a sound, the stomp of a metal-plated boot adjusting its position. She rolled her head around. A figure stood over her. She heard a voice but the words were unintelligible and painful to her ears. She shrieked in defiance, squashing her hands to her head to block out the sound and the discomfort.

Stumbling to her feet she staggered away, tripping across the threshold of the darkness into a wider space. Lights were painfully bright and harsh. She squinted, seeing more clearly now. She recognised nothing, spinning around to try and get her bearings. The movement unbalanced her, sending her careening wildly about before succumbing to the inevitable and ending up sprawled across the floor again. It hurt, the pain overriding everything else.

***

Hassan had almost brained himself on the interior of the canister. Inside the confined space the woman’s shriek had been deafening. He blundered backwards, falling against the inside, watching with shock as the woman raged madly, lurched up out of the pod and then fell with a yelp before heaving and spewing her guts out all over the floor. She jerked and shook as if having a seizure. Hassan instinctively moved towards her.

‘Hold it! I’m only trying to help …’

At the sound of his voice she clasped her hands to her head and screeched even louder. Her voice a harpy-like rasp of sound that made him wince, his ears ringing painfully. She crawled forward, gathering momentum and managed briefly to get to her feet before spinning around and collapsing full length of the floor of the cargo bay in a slow motion whirl of unco-ordinated limbs.

The fall seemed to stun her. She lay, gasping for breath, prone and shaking upon the decking. Hassan slowly ventured around her, crouching down and not getting too close, hoping not to alarm her further by slowly moving into her field of view. He held his hand out, palm down, trying to reassure the strange woman.

‘Hey … just take it easy.’

He saw her clench her eyes tight shut at the sound of his voice and lowered it further. Her left arm flailed about for a moment before seizing up. He could see the tendons and muscles taut against her skin.

‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

Her body trembled from head to toe; he could see goose pimples rising across her skin. The cargo bay was cool, she must be freezing. She threw up again and rolled onto her side.

‘Don’t move, yeah? I’ll get you something.’

***

She tried to move, but her muscles were knotted and locked. The face appeared again. The instinct to flee almost overpowered her again. She tried to move but nothing would respond. Dizziness came in an overwhelming rush, spinning, whirling and twisting, going round and round and …

Her stomach clenched. Bile rose, burning in her throat. Pain speared her midriff. Then the cold bit into her flesh. Freezing! Why? Where was she? What had happened? Thoughts flew into her head and dissolved before she caught them. Anger rose … turned to fear and evaporated into bewilderment. Answers danced just beyond her reach. She shrieked her frustration.

Something touched her and she jerked in fear. More words. The voice was back. This time it made a little sense.

‘… Keep you warm.’

Something wrapped her. The cold faded away, save where she was in contact with the ground. It felt good, comforting. She slipped back, drifting towards unconsciousness. A panicked thought crossed her mind and she searched her memory in vain. She should remember. Why couldn’t she remember? Anger and frustration boiled over and she screeched out her questions before yielding to the darkness rolling around her.

***

Hassan had retrieved a couple of insulating blankets from a storage locker. They hadn’t been used in a long time and smelt stale, but they were better than nothing. Heating failures on ships weren’t unknown and it was best to be prepared. He gently covered the woman with them, pulling them across her.

‘Can you wrap them around you? They’ll keep you warm.’

There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes this time and Hassan saw her relax a fraction. She grasped at the blankets clumsily, propping herself up. He saw her eyes flicker from one side to another in rapid succession. Then she looked straight at him and spoke for the first time, her voice full of anguish and misery, yet angry and demanding.

‘Who am I?’

Hassan shook his head. ‘Lady, you tell me.’

She tried to get to her feet, but she wasn’t able to. ‘I was … who … what is this place?’

‘Take it easy.’ He moved towards her.

She screeched again, flinching back. ‘Don’t … don’t kill me … please …’

Her eyes suddenly rolled up in her head and she fainted, falling back against the decking.

Hassan surveyed her for a moment before shaking his head. There was nothing in the flight manual about dealing with insane naked women aboard your ship. None of this made sense. It was illegal to carry slaves in the local systems and slaves weren’t carried in isolation anyway, it wasn’t profitable. He had no idea who the woman might be.

One thing was clear enough though. She wasn’t a nice straightforward cargo of luxuries he could sell at the next stopover for a fat profit.

She was trouble.

***

Octavia’s newly promoted second in command guard hesitated briefly before asking permission to enter her suite aboard the
Basilica
.

His predecessor had been clumsy and foolish, but trusting the automechs to do their job was a natural response to the need to quickly unload a large vessel when speed was of the essence. The cargo had to be moved and sold on before it could be logged as stolen. That meant hours rather than days. There was no time to perform a detailed inspection of every canister.