Anders was the last to leave, and he lay a heavy hand upon Grayell’s shoulder as he passed.
“Don’t worry Grayell,” he said in his deep, gruff voice. “Just pilots being pilots. After the next fight all this will be forgotten.”
He nodded over to Ryann as he left. “Good to have you alongside us back there on New Eden,” he said with a grim smile. “You handled your ship well. You’ll make your father proud.” He gave a hearty laugh and strode off out of the room.
“Well, that could have all gone better,” sighed Mellarnne; there were just the three of them remaining now: himself, Ryann, and Grayell.
“I’ll have someone loyal keep an eye on Ransome, just to make sure he doesn’t try to stir up any more trouble.”
Grayell didn’t reply. He just stared off into the distance, lost in thought.
“Grayell?”
“Let me know if there are any changes to the current situation.” Grayell stood abruptly, ready to leave. “Ryann, I want you with me.”
Mellarnne looked on in surprise as Grayell headed for the exit. He turned to Ryann, who just shrugged, turning to follow his father.
“If you need me, I’ll be in my quarters,” called Grayell over his shoulder. He stalked out of the room with Ryann following close behind.
CHAPTER FOUR
LOCKE
“Look, there’s nothing more we can do for the time-being. It’s going to be another seven hours before we’re close enough to the planetary cluster to think about deviating from our present course.” Grayell slumped down at the table of his cramped quarters. There was little in the room to suggest anything about his character. It was bare and no more than functional. The only personal possession that Ryann could discern was a small holograph of Ryann’s mother sitting upon an otherwise empty shelf. It was a copy of one of the very few pictures of his mother that he had ever seen. She had died in an accident before he was able to remember her face, and his only memories were formed around those few pictures; he knew in his heart that those fragments weren’t real. He caught himself staring longingly at the grainy image.
Grayell appraised his son for a moment and then gave a weary laugh.
“You look like hell,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair and stretching. “When was the last time you got any sleep?”
“I’m okay,” muttered Ryann defensively. “If the Lumina begin to suspect anything then everybody’s going to have to be ready.”
“I know, that’s what I’m saying. You’re going to be more use if you’re rested up. Don’t worry, if any of those battleships decide to come for us, they’re far enough away that we’ll have some time to get ready. Just try and get some rest Ryann. That’s an order.” He grinned mischievously.
Ryann felt a secret wave of relief at the prospect of even a little time to rest — he was almost dead on his feet. He nodded, heading for the door.
“And I’m sorry if I was hard on you earlier,” came Grayell’s voice, awkward and tentative. “I’ve just got a lot to think about at the moment.” He laughed and shook his head at the understatement. “Just, don’t listen when I get like that — I didn’t mean what I said. You’re a good kid Ryann — you did well back there on New Eden. You helped turn the day around — it could have been a massacre. But, to get through all that without a single Ghost-Runner casualty — we couldn’t have hoped for more. When Anders said you did well in the fight — it made me proud to hear that.”
Ryann paused a moment, unsure of how to reply. Again, he felt a surge of anger at the thought of all those Outlander lives lost aboard the Ibis.
He stepped wearily from his father’s room, heading down the corridor towards his quarters.
Ryann awoke from a fitful sleep inhabited by dreams of drifting out in the cold vastness of space, gulping the last breaths from his air tanks. He dreamed that he was trying to cry out for help, but there wasn’t another soul to hear him for millions of miles. Just empty, dead space.
He sat up with a start, gasping heavily. With a groan, he dragged his aching body up, sitting upon the edge of the bed; he stared at his hands as they shook.
He caught sight of his watch and saw that he had been asleep a little over four hours. He sighed and pulled on his boots, still weak from his trials over the past days.
When he got back to his father’s quarters he found Grayell in the same place as he left him; he was still seated at the table, staring blankly at a grainy view of space upon the wall-screen. Ryann could just make out the weak light glinting off the obsidian hulls of the Luminal fleet as the screen flicked slowly from one enemy vessel to the next. As he watched, the image came briefly to rest upon a craft at the very centre of the armada, one much larger than the others. It was a shape terribly familiar to Ryann; he could still see the image of that monstrous vessel bearing down upon them as he and Angelique lay hidden within the wreck-field. He felt a jolt of pain in the pit of his stomach at the sight of it.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Grayell looked up in surprise scanning the room as though suddenly aware of his surroundings.
“I was just trying to get some rest myself.” he croaked, giving Ryann a bleak smile. He pointed wearily up to the view screen. “I guess I was hoping to find some inspiration really. I always knew that we’d have our work cut out in getting back to the Luminal source — I never thought we’d get dealt as bad a hand as this though.”
“Have you decided
