Magnitude: A Space Opera Adventure (Blackstar Command Book 2) Page 3

  “Ok, scanning,” she replied, quickly entering the data in the control panel. “Bandar was right, Kai. There’s a lot of dangerous stuff in here.”

  Kai swung the Blackstar wide to the right to miss the hulking remains of a battleship and then back around to narrowly miss colliding with another. On the holoscreen, the Arrows were following behind, maneuvering much more easily than the larger Navigator vessel, but apparently not as confident. The Blackstar might be able to withstand a glancing blow from a piece of wreckage—the small fighter craft definitely would not.

  “Find the nearest explosive and put it on the holoscreen, Marella,” Kai said. Sweat dripped down the side of his face, causing the day-old growth of beard stubble to itch. He ignored it.

  “Done,” Marella said.

  “Okay,” he said. Based on the power readings, it was a red-tip nuke located less than three hundred yards aft and to the port side of their position. He nodded and piloted the craft toward it.

  “Bandar, Sen, aim for that missile,” Kai said. “As soon as we’re past—”

  “Got it,” Bandar said, cutting his half-brother off.

  “I don’t get it,” Senaya said.

  “Please, just trust me,” Kai said.

  Senaya squinted at him and raised an eyebrow but did as he suggested.

  “Locked on,” Bandar said.

  “Excellent.” Kai sped past a burned-out Host ship. The Arrows were less than two hundred and fifty yards behind, but beginning to close.

  The Blackstar sped past the derelict missile.

  Kai watched the display, waiting for just the right moment.

  “Fire!” he barked. Senaya and Bandar unleashed a flurry of cannon fire at the floating explosive just as the three Arrows came abreast of the nuke.

  “Vampire missiles coming our way,” Marella called out.

  “Where?” Kai said.

  Marella enlarged her view on the control panel to the large video screen on the west side of the bridge. The feed tracked the missile launched from the rearmost Arrow.

  “Nice work,” he said as he engaged the engines to full, wreckage be damned, the thrust sending the Blackstar speeding by the wreckage. The cannon fire struck the first red-tip missile.

  The holoscreen and the video feed on the walls displayed a flash of brilliant white and orange light. The nukes had vaporized the Arrows and much of their surroundings.

  “Yes!” Senaya cried, pumping a fist in the air.

  “Good plan,” Bandar said.

  Kai ignored the desire to celebrate and concentrated on piloting the Blackstar through the dead starships littering the space around them.

  “Missile’s still closing,” Marella said, a slight quiver in her voice.

  “Don’t worry. I see it,” Kai said.

  He gestured the piloting controls right and then left, making the Blackstar spin between two Host warships.

  “Oh boy,” Kai muttered. “This is going to be tight.”

  The missile kept coming, matching his maneuvers with AI-controlled precision.

  Bandar tried shooting the projectile, but it ducked and dodged the shots.

  Kai argued with himself about the pros and cons of staying in the debris field. Sure, there was a decent chance the second red-tip would slam into something else, but there was an equally decent chance that the Blackstar would do the same. He turned and headed for empty space.

  And the missile turned with them.

  “Sen, try the gravity distortion array,” Kai said.

  “What’s it do?” Senaya asked.

  “I guess it distorts gravity,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” Senaya said, letting out a high-pitched laugh of pure nervousness.

  The Blackstar made a low booming sound and then shuddered as Senaya unleashed the gravity weapon at the missile.

  “One hundred yards and closing fast,” Marella said.

  “Hit it again,” Bandar said. “The space around it is twisting; it just needs more juice.”

  The booming sounded once more, and this time the missile jumped and fell as it tried to fight through the new gravity signature.

  “Seventy yards.”

  “Die, you son of a bitch!” Bandar cried as he and Senaya fired the weapon once more.

  The nose of the missile flattened out against the localized gravity distortion and careened off course, slamming into the remains of a Coalition ship. It exploded in an incredible ball of white and orange light.

  “Hot damn,” Bandar said. His face split into a huge grin.

  “Incoming—again,” Marella called out.

  “What now?” Kai asked. They were just about out of the wreckage zone. He looked at the holoscreen, and his mouth went dry. The shock wave from the explosion had hurled the remains of a Host fighter directly at the Blackstar.

  “Oh shit,” Kai and Senaya said in unison.

  Kai jerked his hand quickly toward the right on his control panel, but the Blackstar was too slow to respond. The fighter slammed into the aft section of the ship. A tremendous crash reverberated through the hull, a din as though a god had kicked an empty cymbal across the cosmos.

  The Blackstar skewed left, drifted, and slammed into their last remaining obstacle before open space. The collision sent them slewing back in the opposite direction. The artificial gravity within the bridge had a hard time compensating for the sudden shift in direction. Kai was flung about in his seat, the harness biting into his shoulders.

  And then they were clear.

  Kai cursed and brought the Blackstar to a halt.

  “Well, that was bracing,” Kai said through deep breaths. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes,” Marella said, a slight groan accompanying her speech.

  “Right as rain,” Bandar said.

  “That… was… awesome!” Senaya said. Her eyes were bright and dancing, her cheeks flushed with a ruddy glow. “Can we do it again?”

  “You’re insane,” Kai said but laughed in spite of himself. The relief of the situation brought with it a kind of giddy euphoria.

  “Seriously, Kai, that was the most intense experience of my life,” Senaya said.

  “And all it took was us almost dying.” Kai turned to Marella and was pleased to see her already regaining her composure. “Can you run a quick scan of the area? I want to make sure there are no other little surprises waiting for us out there.”

  “No problem,” she said before going back to her control panel.

  “That was some nice work back there,” Bandar said. He leaned back in his seat and lit another jola leaf cigar. “Where’d you learn that little trick?”

  “No trick of mine,” Kai said. “Just reacted to what was in front of us.”

  “You have good instincts.” Bandar tipped him a nod of respect through a haze of blue-gray cigar smoke.

  “Thanks.”

  “According to sensors, we’re all alone,” Marella said.

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Kai said. He was glad that they could finally slow down for a bit, catch their collective breath. A quick flashing red light on the holoscreen drew his attention, and he slumped back in his seat. “Oh hells, now what?”

  “The power converters sustained some damage during that last collision,” Senaya said, her head bowed above her control panel.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that we still have thrusters but, unless the converter is fixed, we can’t open a wormhole.”

  “Wonderful.” Kai pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for things starting to look up. “And how do we go about fixing it?”

  “Well, according to the schematic, it’s located outside on the rear of the hull.”

  “Can you fix it, Sen?”

  “Come on, Kai. I can fix anything.” She smiled at him and then looked once more at the schematic. Her smile dissipated and was replaced by a tight frown. “Can I amend that statement?”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” Kai sat forward, eyebrows rai
sed.

  “I might be able to repair it, but there is no access to it inside the ship.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, I’ll have to go out there to do it.” She shrugged as if a spacewalk was no big deal.

  “Absolutely not,” Kai said, shaking his head. He glanced at the holoscreen and brought up the schematic Senaya was looking at, trying to find another way.

  “It has to be done, Kai.”

  “There has to be a way to repair it without going outside,” Kai reiterated.

  “If there is, I don’t see it.” Senaya pursed her lips for a moment. “But maybe the AI does.”

  “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Why not? What is your problem with the AI?”

  “I told you I don’t trust it.” Kai rubbed his chin and tried to figure out how to put his feelings into words. “There’s something about it I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  “You don’t trust it?” Senaya looked at him, head cocked.

  “Yeah…” He blew out a long breath.

  “Look, Kai,” she said, her words coming in gasps. “It’s like this: either we turn the AI back on to help with this, or we spend the rest of our lives creeping through uncharted space without the benefit of the gravity drives.”

  Kai stared at the ceiling, trying to access the Navigator info hiding in his brain—anything not to have to turn to the AI. He sighed.

  “Fine,” he said, his voice resigned. He tapped a few numbers into his control panel. “Blackstar, are you with us?”

  A three-dimensional face appeared on the holoscreen.

  “Yes, Kai Locke, I am here.”

  That formality again. It irked Kai to no end, but he put it on the growing list of things to worry about at a later time.

  “All right, look. The power converters sustained some damage in battle.”

  “Yes, I know. I ran a diagnostic when I booted up.”

  “Wonderful.” There it was: that smugness that spoke of something more than just AI efficiency. Kai was almost ready to type in the override command but held off.

  “Blackstar,” Senaya said, “is there any way to access the converters from inside the ship?”

  “No, there isn’t, Senaya. Repairs can only be done from outside.”

  “Just great,” Kai said.

  “Can you talk me through the job?” Senaya asked.

  “Yes, with little to no difficulty.”

  Kai looked at Senaya, and she offered up a small smile.

  “Looks like I’m going for a walk,” she said and shrugged.

  MARELLA TOOK advantage of the technical discussion to finally dig into the Blackstar’s archives. She thought perhaps there would be some information located in the memory banks to help them. Star charts, ship’s logs, anything.

  She found great amounts of what appeared to be crew logs, which she was unable to read, as they were written in the Navigators’ language.

  She did stumble across what she assumed were star maps but, as with everything else in this sector, nothing looked familiar. She marked them to look into later, after the others had repaired the ship.

  She continued scanning for several minutes, looking for anything she could read, and became increasingly frustrated. They were going to have to get all of this stuff translated into Coalition Common so that she could study all the information.

  She was just about to give up when she saw words that she could read. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she heard her pulse pounding in her ears.

  Journal entries from Kendal Locke appeared on the screen before her.

  She checked on the others, but they were busy discussing repairs with the AI. She returned to the journal and did a quick scan through Kendal’s notes.

  “Marella?” Kai said. His voice startled her, and he looked at her with a quizzical expression.

  “Yes, Kai?”

  “You’ve been really quiet. Find anything of interest in there?”

  “Umm, no, not yet.” She closed the search screen on her control panel, but not before marking the journals for later perusal. “Nothing at all.”

  “You sure?” Kai asked. “You looked pretty intense there for a moment.”

  “No.” She smiled at him, ignoring the stab of guilt in her heart. “Nothing of any import. I just got distracted by the star charts… It’s all so unfamiliar.”

  Kai nodded and returned to the discussion on how to go about the repairs.

  Marella hated herself for withholding on Kai, but she wanted to know exactly what was in the journal before sharing it with him. Who knew what Kendal was up to and where he had gone? She wanted to know before telling Kai in case it was something bad. If it were bad news, she’d want to be able to deliver it to him in a better way than just blurting out some stuff in a journal.

  Chapter 4

  KAI STOOD IN THE AIRLOCK, watching Senaya squeeze into the protective suit for her spacewalk, and loathed that this was the only way.

  “Kai, you look like you’re ready to fight something,” Senaya said.

  “I hate this, Sen,” he replied. “I still think we should put this off and figure out something else.”

  “Give it a rest,” Bandar said. He pulled a strap tight, attaching a toolbox to Senaya’s chest, and then nodded at her. He looked back at Kai, the chrome half of his face gleaming. “That’s your fear talking. You know this is the only way to repair the converter.”

  “I know.” Kai ran his hands hard through his hair and gave the wall a quick kick. “But it shouldn’t be Sen.”

  “What? Why not, Kai?” Senaya had a puzzled look on her face.

  “Because…” Kai wondered why it shouldn’t be her. She knew how to fix damn near anything in the universe. She was the logical choice. Why did he feel so against this? What else was there?

  “Put that out of your mind, Kai,” Bandar said, as if reading his mind. Kai tossed a sharp, questioning glance his way. “Relax, little brother. It’ll be fine.”

  “I guess,” Kai said.

  “How do I look?” Senaya asked. She posed like a model from one of the holomags, one hand on a thrust-out hip, the other behind her head. And, by the stars, she even had a pouty look on her face.

  Kai cracked a smile despite the situation. Senaya always knew how to raise the mood in the darkest moments. She blew him an exaggerated kiss.

  “Okay,” Kai said. “If we’re done playing now? There’s work to be done.”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Senaya said, throwing up a sarcastic salute.

  Kai crossed the room, and a previously invisible drawer slid out from the wall. He snatched the space helmet off the shelf and stepped up to Senaya. He gave her a crooked grin and placed the helmet atop her head. It self-sealed and the face screen fogged over. A hiss of air later, it was clear.

  “You be extra damned careful out there,” he said.

  “Of course, I ain’t going out there to party. Trust me, Kai. This ain’t my first EVA repair.”

  Which was true, Kai knew. He’d seen her spacewalk on two other occasions, but there was a station nearby in case of an emergency. This time, out in the middle of the void, it was completely different. He looked down into her large eyes, and she smiled back at him.

  “I know,” he said. “I just don’t know what I’d do without you, is all.”

  “Oh, brother.” She rolled her eyes in exaggerated fashion and pushed him away with both hands. “Let me get out there before you get all mushy.”

  “Senaya,” Bandar said, “once the door closes, count to five. Then open the outer hatch, okay?”

  “Got it,” she said. The slight look of fear in her eyes when they stepped out of the airlock and the door closed behind them belied all of her bluster. Kai almost said something, but Bandar put a firm hand on his shoulder.

  “She knows what she’s doing, and the AI is online to talk her through everything,” Bandar said.

  “Yeah,” Kai said. He looked out the window just in time t
o see Senaya reach around the outside of the door and snap her safety harness into place on the outside of the hull. She stepped backward out of the Blackstar and into the emptiness of space.

  She waved a big childlike wave and then pushed off and out of view.

  “It sure is big out here,” Senaya said, her voice coming through the internal speakers. Kai was amazed at the quality; there was hardly any sound degradation.

  “That’s the rumor,” Kai said.

  “Senaya, you have to pull yourself around the rear of the hull,” the AI cut in.

  “I know, on my way.”

  “Blackstar, you keep us posted on her progress, understand?” Kai said. He silently reprimanded himself for the quavering tone of his voice.

  “Yes, Kai Locke.”

  “I’ll stick back here and keep an eye out,” Bandar said. He was kinder than normal, and it pissed Kai off, though he kept that to himself.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Kai said. “I’ll be on the bridge.”

  KAI CHECKED the chronometer on his control panel and was surprised to see that Sen had only been outside for a little over an hour.

  It felt like ten.

  He stretched and rolled his head around, enjoying the relief of each cavitation pop in his neck joints. He considered striking up some sort of conversation with Marella but didn’t want to disturb her. She was in the same position as when he’d entered the bridge, huddled over her control panel, her face a mask of concentration.

  He pulled up one of the outer hull cameras and panned it back and forth. He figured they might be in this sector for a while, so he should at least familiarize himself with the stars. He pulled his collar away from his throat as he scanned a distant galaxy cluster.

  Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. Something was wrong.

  Kai’s head started swimming then; his vision doubled, then trebled. He glanced around the bridge and there appeared to be an entire squad of Marellas hovering over identical control panels. They were all lost in their own world.

  The walls of the Blackstar appeared to melt.

  He tried to talk, but no words would come, as though his tongue had swollen to fill his entire mouth. He leaned back in his command couch and tried to slow his racing heart.