Survivor Page 2

  CHAPTER TWO

  Cal hovered into view. "The fuel cell has another leak."

  Nova groaned and held her head in her hands. They were still too far away from a repair station. She needed those cells to hold together. Was it too much to ask that her ship just keep flying for a little longer?

  Crusader had seen better days, even before the explosion. Now the engine screamed in protest. Every movement caused the motor to seize up and choke.

  "How can it keep leaking?"

  She gripped the steering wheel tighter as the ship jerked uncontrollably to the left.

  "In addition to the explosion, it was due for replacement five years ago."

  Nova waved her hand at Cal. The last thing she needed was another lecture about replacing parts. If she'd had the credits, she would have done it months ago, but she didn't, so that was that.

  "How many credits do we have left?"

  "Five," Cal replied.

  "Only five hundred?"

  She frowned and wrenched the veering ship back on course.

  "Negative. Five total."

  She risked turning away from the front screen to look at Cal. "Five? How can we only have five?"

  "The recent sabotage has left us underfunded. Based on its current condition, the fuel cell won't last long enough to get us to the closest shipping yard."

  "Dammit!"

  Nova gritted her teeth. Her hands clenched tighter around the wheel. Blood surged through her veins and flushed her face. "Are there any jobs nearby? Anything at all? I don't care what."

  The view in Crusader's front screen changed from showing the darkness of space, to a list of bounties. There were jobs all over the solar system. It was mostly small fish, simple robberies or missing persons. Too much work for not enough pay.

  "What about that one?" she said, pointing to the third box down.

  The other items closed and the box expanded to fill the whole screen. Two fugitives were missing from the Brakenreid Penitentiary.

  Nova shivered at the thought. Brakenreid was one of the worst prisons, aside from Ankar. The prisoners were cruel, and the guards crueller. It was reserved for those criminals that the Human Confederacy found especially repulsive. These two fugitives were convicted of multiple terrorist acts against the Confederacy, they'd definitely fit in.

  They'd escaped three days ago.

  "Two thousand credits. That would be enough to fix Crusader and give us some spending money."

  "Confirmed."

  "I want every scrap of information related to their case; possible sightings, their habits, where they were nabbed last time. I also want to know if there are any Confederacy activities going on in this system. Every time they've escaped in the past they've made another attack within three weeks. I don't think they'll wait long to strike again."

  "Confirmed," Cal said. His processors whirred into overdrive as he scanned the Cloud for information.

  Nova bit her bottom lip. This could be just the break she was waiting for.

  "Crusader, power down to minimal life support."

  Nova concentrated on keeping her breathing steady to conserve oxygen.

  "Systems powered down," Crusader replied. The voice was female, a standard for most ships after centuries of research had proved that a female voice calmed pilots.

  The lights dimmed and the temperature dropped. The alarms stopped and the red flashing lights died out. The ship was running only the bare essentials required to keep Nova alive. With such a small vessel, they would barely register as a blip on the radar of any passing ship.

  She kept a firm grip on the wheel but with the engines down, the ship stayed under control.

  The front screen showed columns of sliding text. Pictures and maps zoomed past as Cal scanned the Cloud. It moved too fast for Nova to read but Cal droned out a summary as pictures sailed past.

  "These are the fugitives," Cal said.

  The screen was filled with two photos. Each depicted a dirt-covered man with a cruel smile. Their sneering faces dared the viewer to follow after them, a taunting kind of challenge twinkled in their eyes. Their skin was ragged and tanned; they probably came from the Resources Sector and they looked similar enough to be brothers. Their eyes were steely blue and deep wrinkles framed their mouths. Puckered scars covered their necks and arms, slashing across their skin in crisscross patterns.

  "Jinks and Tiny Cupron," Cal said. "They're wanted for acts of terrorism against the Confederacy. They destroyed an embassy in the outer quadrants. Twenty Confederacy diplomats, who had been exploiting the outer planets for labour, were killed."

  "Good on them," Nova said.

  "The blast also fatally wounded four hundred innocents at the embassy," Cal said, his tone terse.

  "Oh," she said, her frown deepening. "They should have come up with a better plan."

  "They confessed to destroying a premium Confederacy starship and interrupting intergalactic trade. They also admit to killing two eminent ambassadors. It is estimated that they have cost the Confederacy over twenty million credits in the last ten years."

  "They've been busy," she said, raising an eyebrow. "It's a wonder they haven't met some kind of accident."

  "They have been in and out of jail for the last twenty years. Each time, committing a new offence after entering society."

  "Why would the Confederacy keep letting them go? Good behaviour?" she said.

  "No. They're good at breaking out of jail."

  "If only they were better at staying out of them," Nova said. "Good. It's pretty safe to bet they've got plans. They won't be able to travel far without ID chips, so they're probably still in this system. Did you find any Confederacy activity?"

  "There is very little going on in these outer planets," Cal said, "Either Confederacy Projects or otherwise."

  "Yes but, Cal, you know as well as I do that they don't always log their projects, especially if they don't want people to know about them. I bet Jinks and Tiny know that too. What ships have passed through here in the last two weeks?"

  There were so many cameras, sensor nets and monitoring equipment set up throughout the human colonies that it was impossible for ships to move without being observed. With the right passwords, it was easy to access the data feeds and find out who was coming and going. A few dollars to the right harbourmaster could also reveal a treasure-trove; all ships have to resupply, eventually.

  Nova's neck crawled with the thought of how many eyes could be watching her at that very second.

  "Seventeen unmarked ships entered this system in the last three weeks. Five have been registered leaving."

  "So you've got fifteen ships unaccounted for. To me that sounds like something worth investigating. Is there any way to tell where they were going?"

  "The last sighting had them heading towards the binary Galleas System. It's not far from here."

  "Then let's get a move on. Crusader, take it easy and keep your scanners on."

  "Confirmed," the ship said.

  The engines whirred back into action and the ship turned towards the Galleas System. The lights and temperature control remained at low activity. They needed to focus on surviving, finding the fugitives and getting the fuel cell replaced. Then Nova could get out of these damned outer planets and back to The Jagged Maw. Perhaps there would be enough money to give Crusader a real overhaul.

  Nova relished the idea of returning to The Jagged Maw. She would give Aart the beating of his life for sending her out on this fool's mission. If he'd just kept his big mouth shut, she would never have come out here. She chided herself. The thought of so much money was what had driven her here, not Aart.

  She took the time to walk through Crusader and make sure there was no contraband lying around. Not that there was much risk of that after the main cargo pod was blown to pieces. Nova breathed a grateful sigh of relief that most of her possessions were stored in a lockbox back at The Jagged Maw. Without that stockpile she'd have nothing; she'd be thrown right back to where she was fi
ve years ago when she first left Tabryn.

  The ship was a mess. At least, for the moment, it was a legally-sound mess.

  The storeroom was the largest area on the ship. It had some basic supplies that Nova needed, and was also the main entry point to the cargo pods.

  The rest of the ship was a collection of tightly packed pods. She went to her room and collected her clothes from the floor. Thick trousers and dark singlets were strewn across the pod. She shoved them into the small cupboard set into the wall and straightened her silver blanket.

  She checked her gun, looking over the charge bar and the trigger mechanism. Catching the fugitives would be easy. They wouldn't have been constantly in and out of prison if they weren't easy to catch. She was much more concerned about the Confederacy. Most of the Human Confederacy didn't take kindly to the bounty hunters. They saw them as unruly outsiders that were difficult to control. It made the Confederacy a nightmare to work with.

  "I've got a collection of ships up ahead, surrounding the planet Archalon," Crusader said.

  Nova hurried through the transport tunnels, back to the pilot's pod. Crusader's front screen was filled with the darkness of space, interspersed with unmarked ships. They were evenly spaced around the nearby planet; their metallic hulls glinted in the light of the duel suns.

  "Three," Nova said. "The rest must be on the surface. Can we get past these without being blown to pieces?"

  "Low engine activity will make Crusader difficult to detect," said Cal.

  "Good enough."

  Nova tied her hair back, threw her bag of supplies over her shoulder, and made her way to the storage area. She grabbed her trench-coat from where it was draped over the engine and shoved it into her bag. She pulled up the trapdoor and dropped into the pilot's seat. Glass rose up to surround her and with a few button presses, the lander clicked free.

  The lander was a tight fit; Nova's arms and legs pressed against the sides of the ship and the top of her head brushed the glass ceiling. Her hands were firm on the steering unit as she guided the tiny craft away from the bigger ship.

  The black of space was replaced with blue sky as she entered atmosphere. Nova marvelled at the crisp, clean air, so unlike the upper-atmosphere of most of the Confederacy planets.

  The planet below was covered in clouds. The first few layers were thick, looking almost solid. Below that they thinned out and left wispy trails through the air. The clouds were mostly grey but the nearby sun reflected all the colours of the rainbow in the small water droplets. Green, red and purple glinted through the lander's front window.

  The planet spread out in all directions. According to the scanners it was three-quarters of a standard planet, based on Earth, with no discernible continents. The whole thing was covered in brown dirt and sand. Mountains rose up in jagged peaks and smooth dunes. There was no sign of water. The entire planet looked like one continuous desert.

  "There's no record of life on this planet," Cal said.

  "So what do the Confederacy want with it?" Nova said. "Resources perhaps?"

  "Possibly. Radar reports the Confederacy ships are to the west."

  "Then that's where I'm headed. I'll touchdown near here and walk the rest of the way. Cal, stay in radio contact; you never know what those crazy Confederacy bastards are going to do."

  The lander came to rest on the planet's surface with a gentle thud. The glass bubble retracted and Nova was slammed with heat and a harsh wind. She narrowed her eyes against the grit and glare and climbed out of the vessel. She jumped down, her boots landing in sand. She pulled on her thick trench-coat and laid a hand on her pistol.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The wave of heat rushed over Nova's skin. Sweat sprouted on her forehead and created a thin layer on her arms. She squinted against the sun. The warm desert wind did nothing to stop the water from evaporating straight off her body.

  She reached into the satchel at her side and pulled out a thin pair of sunglasses. She slipped on the shades and sighed with relief. The smart-glass tinted according to the glare, in this case turning practically black.

  With her vision restored, Nova observed the desert. There was sand as far as she could see. Loose powder danced down the sides of dunes the size of mountains.

  A chip inserted into her brain allowed her to communicate with Cal and Crusader. The chip picked up on her thoughts, although she often spoke out loud from habit.

  Her mouth was already parched from the desert air. "How far have I got?"

  "Estimated two days walk," Cal said.

  Nova groaned. She'd barely been standing in the desert for two minutes and it felt like tiny hammers were being smashed into her temples and along her forehead.

  "I don't suppose our portable food-generator is working yet?" she said.

  She gazed back at the lander. She imagined the carefully-controlled temperature, the shaded glass, wishing she was comfortably inside. For the moment, she had forgotten that the systems were turned off. Soon, the inside of the ship would be even hotter than the planet's surface.

  "Negative," Cal said. "Recommend conserving water and looking for fresh sources when possible."

  "Got it."

  She snorted to herself. It would be just her luck to be stranded on some distant planet with no fuel and then die of dehydration. That would not be a glamorous way to go.

  "Well the longer you stand here thinking about it, the more likely it is that it will happen," she said to herself.

  Her chapped lips rubbed together and gave her the motivation she needed. She put one foot in front of the other and started off through the sand.

  It was difficult. Her shoes sunk into the soft sand and the heat of the desert encased her feet with every step. Her dark trench-coat burned as it sucked in the heat of the day and poured it over Nova's skin. She considered taking the garment off, but then the sun would burn straight through her. By the time she reached the Confederacy site, she'd be a giant blister.

  The desert looked the same in all directions. The monotony of the sandy landscape made way for Nova's imagination. She slipped away to thoughts of The Jagged Maw and the coolness of space.

  "You could have called for help," Cal said, picking up on her thoughts of The Jagged Maw.

  Nova sighed. He was right. She could have called Aart or Tanguin, but she wouldn't. She'd never admit to them that she was stranded. She certainly didn't get off of Tabryn by asking for help.

  "No, Cal," she said firmly.

  The heat and desolation of the desert landscape reminded her of Tabryn. What felt like a lead ball formed in the bottom of her stomach when she thought about her homeworld. She clenched her fists at her sides and her face flushed hot. Bile rose in her throat as she thought about how she'd had to fight for survival. She spat into the dusty ground but the foul taste wouldn't go away.

  In an instant her mind was transported from one desolate desert to another as her thoughts were overwhelmed with memories of Tabryn. Nova could still remember the broken robots and machinery that dotted the sandy landscape like forgotten statues. Outer Tabryn was a festering squalor of drugs and violence. It was the inescapable product of Inner Tabryn, the biggest casino district in all the human colonies.

  In the haze coming off the hot sand Nova could almost see the flashing lights of Tabryn's casinos in the distance. She shook her head and stared hard at the ground. This wasn't Tabryn. She dug the nail of her right index finger into her left palm. She pushed harder until tears of pain stung the corners of her eyes and brought reality crashing back. This was a different planet, a different galaxy; her childhood couldn't reach her here.

  She forced herself to move forward, away from the lander and her memories.

  It felt like an eternity before the second sun took its dive towards the horizon, delicately kissing the edge of the desert. The giant orb lit up the sand and sky with bright oranges and reds. It cast the clouds above into glowing halos.

  The wind took on a chill which seeped straight through Nova's s
kin. She was suddenly grateful for the trench-coat clutched around her shoulders.

  The sun was replaced by two full moons which rose from opposite sides of the sky. One glowed blue and the other was bright red, they glared at each other across the stars.

  Nova admired the landscape. The insufferable, unending sand had been replaced with a rainbow kaleidoscope of crystals. The ground glimmered purple under the mixed light of the moons. They created opposing paths across the sand, like glowing bridges leading away into some other world.

  Nova slugged through the thick sand. Hours after the sun had set, her thighs ached in protest. Her eyelids drooped lower, blurring her vision of the desert. She tripped over a dip in the sand and sprawled onto the ground. The fall knocked the air out of her lungs and she lay gasping for breath.

  She pushed herself to a sitting position and looked around. There was nothing but desert in all directions.

  "As good a place as any," she muttered to herself.

  She used her legs to push the sand until there was a hole in the ground, big enough for her to lie in. She huddled into the hollow and tucked her coat tight around her shoulders. Her eyes flickered closed. Despite the exhaustion coursing through her arms it was hard to sleep. The sand scraped her cheek and tickled her nose.

  In her half-awake state her thoughts zoomed to Tabryn, to the worst bed she'd ever found. The day had started so well. She'd spent the morning playing with the other orphans. She still remembered how light her heart had felt as they laughed and tossed a ball made of old rags to each other. In the evening it was time to work.

  She spent the evening carrying plates of food to the customers and Roxy's ladies. The food always smelled so good. Nova's stomach rumbled and she licked her lips. All she'd had to eat was a few dried biscuits. Right here in front of her was steaming meat, and chips! All of it covered in delicious salt. She sniffed deeply, enjoying all the smells.

  She put the plate on the kitchen counter and looked around. The other orphans were out serving food, for the moment she was alone. She reached out a tentative hand and clutched a warm chip. She brought it slowly to her mouth, enjoying the heat flowing through her fingers. She could actually feel the crystals of salt on her fingertips.