“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Loki confessed, running his hands over his face and through his hair. It had been a long two days of nonstop work with nothing more than intermittent meal breaks. And the exhaustion was really starting to get to him.
“Right about what?” Nathan asked as he walked up the damaged shuttle’s aft boarding ramp.
“That this crate should be scrapped for parts,” Josh announced.
“Really? It didn’t look too bad from the outside.”
“That’s because all the damage is in here,” Loki added.
“Yeah, your guys shot the inside of her up pretty good. If it wasn’t for their armor, I doubt any of those troops would’ve made it out alive.”
“So it can’t be fixed?”
“Maybe, if we were back on Haven and could pick up some parts. But aside from that rock, I doubt you’ll find parts for this old bucket elsewhere.”
Nathan felt a little embarrassed, as ‘this old bucket’ had a lot of systems that looked like they were far more advanced than anything the Aurora had on board. “So I take it she’s not ‘state-of-the-art’ around these parts?”
“Nothing on Haven is state-of-the-art, Captain,” Loki explained.
“Yeah,” Josh added with a grin. “Haven is pretty much where old spaceships go to die.”
“I don’t know,” Nathan disagreed. “Your harvester seemed to perform quite well.”
“That’s because Marcus took care of her. He’s really a much better mechanic than he lets on.”
Nathan nodded, acknowledging Josh’s claims. “How about the other shuttle?”
“Oh she’s fine,” Loki promised. “She was pretty much buttoned up when the fight broke out. So other than a few nicks and scorch marks to her hull, she’s ready to go.”
“Well, at least there’s that. Speaking of Marcus, where is he? I thought he’d be here with you.”
“He’s pulling the computer core and a few other usable odds and ends outta the harvester. He says the reactor is not looking good. He’s afraid it’ll get unstable and he wants to jettison the whole mess and be rid of her.”
“Too bad,” Nathan said. “I’m sure my chief engineer would like to get a look at some of its systems. You sure there’s no way to make it safe to store? I mean, we’ve got lots of room.”
“Naw, I suspect Marcus is right. Last thing you want is a core breach in the middle of your hangar bay,” Loki told him.
“I suppose you’re right,” Nathan said. “And Tug’s fighter? How’s it?”
“You’d have to ask Tug about that,” Loki told him. “I expect he wouldn’t want anyone coming near it. Least I wouldn’t if it were mine.”
“What do you think of her?” Nathan asked. He had no knowledge of local spacecraft, and thus had no idea how well Tug’s fighter would match up against others in the area.
“She’s an older model, to be sure. But she’s a beauty, that one,” Josh said.
“Yeah, they don’t make them like that anymore,” Loki agreed.
“How do you mean?”
Josh may have been the natural-born pilot, but Loki knew the ins and outs of spacecraft, having studied them since he first learned to read. No one knew more about spacecraft than Loki. “The newer ones are smaller and more maneuverable, but they don’t have the range, the speed, or the punch. They’re harder to hit, for sure, but you usually only need a single hit to kill them. And the newer ones don’t have FTL either. These were the last ones built for deep space patrol and intercept. The newer ones all have to operate from carrier ships.”
“Captain,” Josh began, “I was meaning to ask you something. Why is it you’ve got so much room in this bay but no ships? It was obviously built for flight ops, but the only things in here besides our shuttles are a bunch of crates and junk.”
Nathan took a seat on the bench running along the starboard side of the shuttle. “Well, that’s kind of a long story. But the short version is we were just out on a test cruise, and things went wrong. Way wrong, in fact. We didn’t have any of our flight wing on board at the time, as we were just supposed to be testing the jump drive. In fact, this ship isn’t even completely finished yet. That’s what all the crates are-more equipment that has yet to be installed.”
“A thousand light year test cruise?” Josh wondered aloud. “If that’s your idea of a test cruise, where the hell did you plan on going on a real cruise, another galaxy?”
“Actually, we weren’t planning on going much more than about thirty or forty light years.”
“Well I’d say you over shot your mark just a wee bit there, Captain,” Josh said.
“Yeah, just a bit,” Nathan agreed with a smile. Nathan knew where the conversation was headed. They had to be curious about the ship, and the Earth in general, just as Tug had been the night before. But Nathan still had a lot to do before he could call it a day, and that was a conversation he didn’t have time to get into right now. “Listen, I’ve got another guest I need to talk to. You guys get checked in to your quarters and get some chow and a good night’s rest. I have a feeling you’ll be doing some more flying soon enough.”
Jalea stared through the one-way window at the Ta’Akar assault trooper as he sat in a metal chair, at a metal table, in the small, plain interrogation room. He had been stripped of his body armor and was dressed only in a plain jumpsuit from the Aurora’s laundry. He wore a pair of thick, wide, metal bracelets that were locked around his wrists, but was free to move about the small room as he desired.
Jalea’s gaze contained a seething hatred for the man before her, for all he stood for, and for the many atrocities he had probably committed and still had yet to commit-all no doubt in the name of Caius the Great, the leader of the Ta’Akar. Jalea despised that name almost as much as the man himself, for he was the one she held responsible for the deaths of her mother, her father, and her husband. He may not have done the deeds himself, but his legions had, and in his name-which as far as she was concerned made him just as responsible for their deaths as if he had pulled the trigger himself.
She continued to stare, her breath coming slow and regular, her chest rhythmically rising and falling. Her eyes only blinked once per minute, so intense was her gaze. The subject of her relentless attention was no more than a boy in her eyes, barely the age of adulthood. But he bore the ceremonial markings of a Ta’Akar warrior, complete with the serpent’s tail that encircled his neck before disappearing down his back. He was trained, this one. Not just another indentured grunt, forced to serve or die. Somewhere along the line, this man had chosen to swear a blood oath to his leader. This one did not fight only as a means to survive. Men with such simple motivations were easy to kill, as they were more often than not unwilling to fully commit to the battle. Such men fought for glory, for their own as much as their leaders, which meant that they were not afraid to die in battle. In fact, they welcomed it.
Her rage was broken by the arrival of others, as Nathan and Jessica entered the observation room.
“Jalea, thank you for meeting us,” Nathan said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we might need a translator.”
“Of course,” she said, her chin dipping slightly. “However, this one is Ybaran. And although young, he is old enough to have learned Angla in his youth.”
“Ybaran?” Jessica asked.
“A small system just outside of the Pentaurus cluster. It was conquered just recently by the Ta’Akar-maybe ten years ago. Before then, all children were taught Angla, just as I was. It was only after the Ta’Akar came and enforced the Doctrine of Origins that the use of Angla was discontinued on Ybara.”
“Then he can understand us?” Jessica asked.
“Most likely, yes, although he will not admit to such. To do so would be admitting doubt in his own faith.”
“I’m not following,” Nathan admitted.
“Ybarans, like those of any other Ta’Akar controlled world, are required to serve in the legions. The best and most devoted of them join the Ghatazhak-a specially trained group of elite warriors. They have been brain washed into believing that Caius is a God, and that all humanity comes from Takara, not Earth. They are fiercely loyal to Caius. Admitting that he understands Angla would be like denouncing his belief in the Doctrine of Origins, which would disqualify him from service in the Ghatazhak, bringing him great dishonor.”
“How do you think we should handle this?”
“He will not respond to questions. He might give you some simple answers meant to placate you and to feed
