[05] Elite: Reclamation (36 page)

She shook her head to clear it. She was Lady Kahina Loren, heir to the Loren fortune, a member of high Imperial society, not some space-addled star-struck fool grubbing a trashy existence on the fringes of civilisation.

The plans had to be exposed, the hidden agendas revealed. She could think of only one way to do it. She would force the situation herself. No more secrets, no more deception. It would be plain, it would be simple.

She climbed up through the living quarters of the Cobra and into the cockpit, closing the bulkhead hatch behind her and sitting herself comfortably in the co-pilot’s flight seat. She spotted her ID bracelet on the console. Luko must have picked it up and taken it in.

She reached forward and picked it up, turning it around in her hands for a few moments before clipping it around her wrist and composing herself. She activated the communication system, recording a message.

She was quite finished by the time Luko joined her an hour later. She was still sitting quietly, looking out as the stars flickered in the darkening sky. Luko activated the drives and the
Bella Principessa
roared upwards through the atmosphere and out into the void.

‘You still wish to do this?’ he asked, as the last wisps of atmosphere fell behind them.

Kahina touched the controls, gently banking the ship around in a slow turn. She gestured to the stars ahead, singling one out for particular attention. It was faint, but burned steadily in the darkness.

‘See that star there?’ she replied. ‘It’s mine. It belongs to me. I want it back. Does that answer your question?’

Luko shook his head and settled down beside her in the adjacent chair.

‘Is your funeral, signorina.’

Luko adjusted the controls and began the sequence to spool up the jump subsystems. Kahina watched in satisfaction as the desolate world receded far behind them. Once they were in range of a station with a transmission relay she could execute her plan.

A series of beeps indicated the hyperdrive was ready. Luko glanced across at her again.

‘All green. So, signorina,’ he said, ‘to the Empire we go.’

Light flashed, space folded. The
Bella Principessa
disappeared into witchspace.

***

The Imperial cruiser
Atticus
held station scant light years from the massing Federation fleet. A ‘Majestic-class’ Interdictor, it was the Federation cruiser’s equal in size, another behemoth of space. In design, spectacle and sheer presence, it overwhelmed its counterpart completely. Unlike the Federation ship, the Imperial vessel was more than a vehicle of war. Internally much of the ship was appointed with opulence enough to rival the embassies of the major Imperial worlds. A major part of the vessel, centred round the most prestigious areas, spun to provide its occupants with the luxury of artificial gravity. Within this area were staterooms, reception suites, function rooms all furnished with lavishness that redefined the boundaries of excess.

Lounging amidst this profligacy, two patrons of the Empire awaited the arrival of the ambassador and the admiral of the great ship.

‘Your first time aboard?’ Gerrun asked.

His companion looked distinctly ill at ease.

‘If nature had intended man to travel through the implacable void it would have furnished us with stronger stomachs,’ Zyair complained. His face was grey. He clutched at the arm of his chaise longue as if scared he would be thrown off it.

‘Far better to be here in the carousel rather than the weightless sections,’ Gerrun reassured him. ‘You’ll adjust soon enough.’

‘I don’t want to adjust. Life on a planet suits me far better. A stable planet mind. Like the one our erstwhile Senator promised we would enjoy or have you forgotten that?’

‘I have not forgotten. I’d simply refrain from criticising him aboard this vessel. Fleet Admiral Brice …’

‘… was the Senator’s right-hand man. You think I don’t recall? I assume you haven’t forgotten that he was the one who dropped the bombs on the original colonists?’

‘Illegal occupiers I believe you mean.’

‘I know what I mean. He had no qualms about that, did he?’

Gerrun leant forward.

‘My friend, what is it that concerns you so?’

Zyair matched his move, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a whisper.

‘Only this, Patron Gerrun. That man is a butcher, a maniac at the helm of one of the most powerful vessels our glorious Empire has ever sent forth. We stand across from a fleet of Federation vessels, captained by equally inflexible military men, bedecked and beweaponed in ships of pure unalloyed destructive power – and you ask what concerns me?’

‘Ambassador Cuthrick will negotiate a truce with the Federation. Their commissioner has no interest in a conflict either.’

‘You underestimate the military inclination to violence. We’ve had relative peace for decades, yet each confrontation results in greater escalation. More ships are deployed, more hands on triggers. One single mistake, a flash point … that’s all it will take my dear Gerrun. Mark my words.’

‘You do paint a depressing picture,’ Gerrun replied. ‘Surely some credit must go to the military; they have kept the peace you refer to.’

Zyair was spared from answering by the approach of Ambassador Cuthrick. As always he was accompanied by his pair of aides. Gerrun and Zyair came to their feet as they approached, exchanging customary bows. As was appropriate, Gerrun and Zyair bowed lower than the ambassador, whilst the aides bowed lowest of all, lowering themselves upon one knee as etiquette demanded.

‘Ambassador.’

‘Patrons.’ Cuthrick’s voice was as smooth and melodious as ever.

‘What news?’ Gerrun demanded

‘The Federation fleet continues to mass as we anticipated,’ Cuthrick said. ‘A strength at least equal to ours.’

‘War mongering dogs,’ Zyair said.

Cuthrick held up his hands in a gesture of peace. ‘My counterpart, Commissioner Neseva has just rendezvoused with them. He will mollify matters on the Federation side.’

‘Can we trust him?’ Zyair demanded.

Cuthrick considered the matter. ‘Trust is a powerful word, dear Patron. Commissioner Neseva certainly desires that we collectively avoid a war. I would say that we can depend upon him. Certainly he is more of an ally to the cause of peace than are our own military personnel.’

‘It was ever thus with military minds,’ Gerrun agreed.

‘And Dalk?’ Zyair demanded. ‘Where is he? And where is that dratted Loren girl?’

‘Where indeed,’ Cuthrick replied.

***

The
Keimola Gateway
was an old station, in a system of little note in the grand scheme of things. A cluster of ships hung close by, either parked or abandoned. The station slowly spun in the darkness, lights trailing in slow circles around a rectangular docking bay. It was a curiously simple design. At first glance one might mistake it for a cube, but each corner was sliced away as if by some astronomical scythe. It was a dodecahedron, forever rolling on a central axis of symmetry. A classic Coriolis.

Approaching it slowly was an old fashioned ship, its stained and tarnished hull also a series of simple interlocking geometric shapes, navigation lights blinking purposefully in the darkness. The dim light of cockpit illumination could be seen filtering from the upper hull.

With a flicker of reaction control systems, the ship began to roll to starboard, matching the rotation of the station and aligning itself smoothly with the gaping docking bay. Drives, once white hot with power, cooled to a dull red. The ship slowed with brief bursts of retro-fire from forward thrusters.

Aboard the
Bella Principessa
, Kahina watched as Luko finished the adjustments to their approach. She’d watched in surprise as Luko lined everything up manually throughout. She couldn’t fault his ability, they were heading dead centre into the docking bay, their rotation perfectly aligned.

‘No computers?’ she queried.

Luko gave her a disparaging look. ‘Flight assist? Pah. Can’t dock your ship yourself? Not deserve to be in space. Relax, signorina.’

Kahina watched as the enormous bulk of the station swam towards them, she strained her neck to look upwards at the towering forward face with the stars spinning behind it. It made her dizzy, so she looked forward again. The docking bay expanded towards them, swallowing the Cobra like a maw. Luko touched the retros again and the ship coasted into the bay, coming to a graceful halt. She briefly saw a circular corridor with a matching docking bay at the far end; the space inside contained many other ships.

Enormous mechanical arms secured their vessel, dragging it down to the floor of the bay before clamping into place. The Cobra was ushered forward into an appropriately sized receptacle. A brief clunk signalled they were secure.

Luko powered down the ship.

‘Refuel, restore and recuperate,’ he said. ‘A few more jumps …’

‘… and I’ll be home,’ Kahina finished for him.

Luko nodded and got tentatively to his feet, letting his magnetic boots clamp to the floor.

‘I will see to ship,’ he said. ‘You wish to see the station, yes?’

Kahina nodded.

‘Grab your ID. No stealing my ship and making away?’

‘We made a deal, didn’t we?’

Luko nodded, gave her a cautious look and descended from the cockpit. Kahina followed him, feeling the faint grip of artificial gravity tugging at her as she descended through the Cobra’s decks. It still made her feel queasy, but experience had allowed her to anticipate and acclimatise to the sensation. Luko was busy opening up the portside airlock.

She placed her hand on her ID bracelet and spun it around on her wrist.

With this I’m just
Salomé. But not for much longer.

The internal airlock door swung inwards, presenting them both with a narrow corridor, lit intermittently by faint green lights. They made their way clumsily down its length, moving slowly in the low gravity.

At the far end was a similar hatchway. Luko operated the controls and the hatch opened, allowing them into a small square room. A sign flashed on in front of them in red, buzzing for attention.

DeCom.

Kahina sighed, remembering the irritating procedure from before. This time it was short however, the light flickered to green almost immediately and a door before them slid open.

Beyond was a much larger space. Kahina blinked in surprise, unprepared for the view that awaited beyond.

The ceiling was transparent.

They had emerged just below the central axis of the station. Their ship, presumably along with hundreds of others, was parked in a small purpose-made bay. From these bays, all routes led to this central complex, a cylinder within the station itself whereby ships could be seen moving through an empty central space, some arriving and slowing to dock, others leaving. It was a most peculiar sight. The floor curved sharply up to her right and left, meeting itself some few hundred metres above her head. She looked up and could see people walking around on the ceiling.

 No, it’s still the floor, even up there!

A ship passed between them and her, slowly moving along the central chamber, its drives glowing faintly as it left on its way to who knew where.

At the far end of the space Kahina could just make out a rectangular docking slit, the equal of the one they had come through. Beyond it was inky blackness.

Space and the void …

Only when looking forwards and back was some semblance of normality retained. With a mental effort, Kahina could imagine she was walking though some strange gently curving furrow in the ground. People milled around her, oblivious to the peculiarity. Perhaps it was no more extraordinary to them than a walk across a street in a planetside city.

Luko caught her astonished expression. ‘You get used to it. Come.’

He led her to the side of the space, where a cluster of people were already waiting. As they approached, a door opened, revealing the interior of some kind of transport device. Along with many others Kahina and Luko filed in. There were seats, which surprised her, what purpose did they serve in the minimal gravity? Everyone seemed keen to take one, so Kahina did so too, seating herself slowly beside Luko.

‘Hold on,’ he advised.

Kahina did as instructed, clamping her hands around the conveniently placed grab handles alongside.

Across from her sat a family group, what she assumed were two parents and two young boys judging by the family likeness. Kahina studied them for a moment. The man had greying hair and a stern face, but it softened into a grin as he engaged in some game of words with the youngest boy. Kahina saw the laughter lines around his face. The young boy laughed out loud. Next to him the woman was talking seriously with the older son, her long brown wavy hair half hiding her face. The older son seemed to be complaining about something. The woman gently raised a finger and gave him a look. The son subsided and pulled a face. The woman laughed.

Family …

Kahina sighed loudly. The man looked up at her briefly, a faint frown crossing his face. Kahina looked back at him, his face had a vague familiarity about it, but there was no way she could have met him before.

With a brief tone the transport lurched. Kahina grabbed the handles tighter, fighting against the unexpected sensation of being pulled upwards out of her seat. It was some kind of lift, taking them ‘down’ towards the outside edge of the station. The sensation faded, replaced by a rapidly increasing feeling of weight and a curious sense of being pushed back in her chair. She noticed the family on the other side seemed to have the opposite problem, they were leaning forwards in their seats.

With another tone the lift came to a halt. The moment it did so, Kahina could see people tapping their shoes, disengaging the magnetic clamps. They stood up, impatiently waiting for the doors to open. Gravity felt normal! The moment the doors opened, everyone surged out, including the family group, leaving Kahina and Luko behind.

Luko helped her to her feet. She caught her breath. How strange to feel heavy again.