Chapter 8: Alliances

Sand and grit assaulted Hughes’ face, whipped into a veritable sandstorm frenzy by the thrusters of the descending Cav carrier, an aging Heater class. Its engines weren’t big enough, and it was too bulky, making it slow and awkward. Hughes wondered if that was the best they could procure on a dustball like Dulabar. He would have expected a higher ranking Military commander like the Colonel to at least be using the more modern Kite class.

Eventually, the carrier touched down, and the biting sands abated. As soon as the landing struts groaned with the weight of the carrier, the gangway had been lowered and a group of five men were quickly marching down it. Hughes brought himself up to attention, but did not salute until the Colonel stopped in front of him.

The Colonel was fat for a Military man. His paunch fell over the buckle of his belt, and strained the buttons of his uniform. His hair had once been black, but was now smattered with gray. Davenport had a look of a Military man that had been out to pasture for far too long. He returned Hughes’ salute smartly, and the four armed men escorting him took up positions around them.

“I take it you are Major Evan Hughes, that right son?” the man drawled. Hughes couldn’t quite place his accent.

“Yes, sir,” Hughes responded, keeping his eyes straight forward.

“At ease, son. You’ve done us a great favor,” the colonel said removing his hat and mopping his brow with a handkerchief.

“Sir?” Hughes asked politely. In truth, Hughes knew what the Colonel was referring to, but was surprised that the man knew.

“That was nice, a beautiful shot, son. We saw it on the spybird,” the Colonel said smiling and pointing towards the sky. “Got an excellent signal too. But the question is, how should we go about things?”

“I’m not sure I follow, sir,” Hughes said.

“Cut the act boy. You know, sure as your shootin’, what I’m talking about. So here’s the proposal. I’ve read your file. Your skilled, no doubting. But you’ve run yourself aground of a political quagmire.”

Hughes didn’t say anything, but flinched inwardly. Would he never be free of that old buzzard’s meddling?

The Colonel chuckled. “The way I see it, son, that just makes you motivated. I can appreciate ambition. Hell, I just want my own glass of ice water, too. Get my drift, son?”

Hughes didn’t really, but nodded anyway.

“So here’s how this is going to go down. You hear me out. Then you say yes, or no. It’s pretty much that simple. What you say?”

“I’m listening, sir,” Hughes said not entirely sure where things were headed and not daring to hope.

“You’ve got the skill and gusto I’m looking for. That plane you marked for us was obviously a brand spanking new toy our beloved Military has been inventing. We want her back, son. At any cost. To that end, I’m putting together a little group of boys. Their job will be to track it down, capture it, and bring it back here. Here’s where you come in, son. I need a leader to keep things focused and make sure the team brings that bird back. If you volunteer, it’s your ticket off this dump. And if you don’t, well, you can go back to minding the store and scrubbing dustgull droppings from tower windows.”

Hughes, although shocked by the sudden opportunity, already knew what his answer was. So did the Colonel.

The fat man smiled. “That’s what I wanted to see, son. Now, if you wouldn’t mind getting out of the thrice-damned sun and into my carriage, we can be on our way. I’ll drop all the details on you on the way over.”

“Over to where, sir?” Hughes said, following the Colonel back to the Heater.

“To your new command, son. I think you’re going to like it like a sandwhale likes sand.” The Colonel laughed and clapped Hughes on the shoulder.



Several hours later, Colonel Davenport was riding in the Heater alone back to Dulabar HQ after depositing the Major at his destination. The Colonel leaned back and fired up a cigar. He took a long drag, and then after a moment savoring the taste, pulled a datacom from his pocket. He entered the contact info and hit ‘Connect’. He held the d-com to his ear and waited for the other party to accept the communication.

“Yeah, it’s me,” the Colonel said into the d-com. “The Major agreed. Yes, sir. I believe so, sir. Even if he fails, I believe he will still be useful. Yes, sir. It will work out as planned, I guarantee it. Thank you, sir. Sandwhale out.”

Davenport closed the datacom and replaced it in his pocket. He gazed out the portal of the Heater and watching the dust storm raging below, he smiled.



Kella awoke with a start. She wasn’t sure where she was. Feeling groggy and a bit nauseous, she sat up to a sitting position. The effort nearly made her swoon, and she fell back against a flat, but soft pillow. The pain cleared some of the grogginess away, however, and she took stock of the room she was in. It was an awful, sterile white, and was empty save for the bed she was lying on, and the assortment of devices strewn about. She realized suddenly that she was in a medical bay.

Movement in the corner attracted her eyes immediately and she saw a tall figure, a robot, painted in glossy white with red chevrons on the arms and chests. A med bot. She was on the Praetorian. The final fight came back to her. She remembered falling helplessly into a collision with that Elite. Then suddenly there was a shadow, and then darkness. She must’ve blacked out.

She carefully sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was actually more of a cot built into the side of the med-bay wall that could fold up when not in use. She was robed in a similarly sterile white medical gown. Her head still hurt, and she reached up to touch her forehead and discovered it was bandaged.

“Up already, I see,” a familiar voice echoed out of the silence of the med-bay. “You’re a tough kid.”

“What did you do to me, you damned computer?” she snarled, but immediately regretted the exertion.

“Hi. How are you? I’m doing fine. You’re welcome, by the way.” Gavin replied easily.

“For what?” she asked incredulously. She hopped down from the cot and immediately tried to still her vision. The room was moving in a way that it shouldn’t.

“For what?” Gavin asked indignantly. “Who do you think saved you from a fiery collision and death? I mean, it probably would have been better for me if I hadn’t.”

“You, were the shadow?” she said uneasily.

“Maybe you should lie down. You look like you’re about to-“ Gavin started, but Kella slipped to the floor unconscious.

“Fall down,” he finished with a sigh. The med-bot jerked into motion from its alcove.



Kella awoke in a room that was much darker than the med-bay. She looked around slowly and took in the metal walls, the dimmed lighting and the bars. She started and sat up immediately, noting as she did so that she had no pain. Her head felt fine, but she quickly pushed that aside as she realized she was in a prison cell. No, that wasn’t quite right. She could feel the throb of engines. She was in the Praetorian’s brig.

“What the hell am I doing in here!” she shouted. “Answer me, you damned computer!” Silence was her answer. She stood up from the low cot and moved towards the bars to see out. She’d been in a cell once before, and the memories were not pleasant. She couldn’t see anything except for the cell across the way, which was empty. There were no signs or markings, just blank walls, and dim lighting fixtures. In frustration she began to pound on the cell wall. It made a dull thud. “Answer me, dammit!”

“Are you always this demanding? Or just with me? I might start taking this attitude personally, you know,” Gavin replied through the brig speakers.

“Why am I in here?” she yelled back.

“You don’t need to yell,” Gavin commented. “I can hear you just fine.”

“WHY AM I IN HERE!?” she bellowed as loudly as she could.

“Ok, you know what? I’m not going to deal with a toddler.” There was a click and the speakers went dead. Kella rolled her eyes and wiped her face with her hand.

For a while, she paced the cell. She tried sitting. She tried just standing. She laid down. She sat up. She paced again. Finally, unable to take it any longer, she finally spoke.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” she tried. There was no response. She dropped her head in resignation and put up a hand. “I promise I won’t shout at you again.”

“Hello, this is your Captain speaking. The in-flight movie tonight is Jailbird. Pretty sub-bar dialogue, but the fighting scenes are worth it,” Gavin quipped smugly.

“Fine, I deserve that. But can you please explain why I’m in here?”

“Woah, hey, she does know the word ‘please’. Ok, in celebration, I’ll answer your question. You’re in there because you’ve been unconscious the past two days healing from your wounds. The med-bot did his duty and you’ve retained all your limbs. Congrats. But, the problem is going to come from the fact that you are going to start shouting and who knows what else, when you realize we’ve been in Slipspace for those two days.”

“Two days?” Kella asked incredulously.

“Yep,” Gavin answered in a tone that implied he knew her anger was about to boil over again. He was right.

“Two days! And where are we headed?” she asked loudly, losing her temper once more.

“Tal Rho’an,” Gavin said simply. Kella merely laughed in response. She sat down heavily on the cot and buried her face in her hands.

“This is just great!” she started. “Over a day overdue and we’ve been going in the wrong fekkin’ direction for the past two days?”

“Hey, that language is offensive you know,” Gavin responded with mock offense.

“All I needed to do was to get this damned plane to Proxy,” Kella continued, oblivious to Gavin’s sarcasm. “It was only a day’s flight from Dulabar. It wasn’t even supposed to be a difficult job! I had it all sowed! Schematics, access codes, timetables, the works! And one stupid, overly programmed computer ruins everything! Now my Scythe is gone, I’m locked up in this stupid cell, and the computer’s flown us two days in the wrong, damned, direction!” she screamed pounding her fist into the cot with every syllable.

“And you asked why I locked you up,” Gavin scoffed when she seemed to have finished. “And, for your information, I am not a computer. My name,” he paused, stressing the word, “is Gavin. I told you this once before.”

“Oh just switch off!” she yelled in despair chucking the nearest thing she could find at the camera eye in the corner of the cell, which happened to be the lumpy pillow.

“Ok, here’s the plan, little Sellword,” Gavin started, his voice serious and taking Kella by surprise. “I am going to Tal Rho’an whether you like it or not. I have problems of my own. Once my business is concluded there, you can have the damned plane! Fly wherever it is you want to go! See the Galaxy for all I care, but only after I’m done. Until then, I am in charge, and unless you behave, you will be left in here.”

“You really have no idea how screwed we are, do you?” Kella asked soberly. “I am over a day overdue. I report to one of the largest Mercenary groups in the Inner Territories. They will come looking for me, and will probably kill me for the trouble. And you, well, it’ll be decidedly less pleasant for you,” she said threateningly.

“Please. Mercenary groups are so far below my radar at the moment. You really have no idea how screwed we really are, do you?” Gavin shot back. “Screw the Mercenaries, the whole of the Military will probably be hunting us! You really stirred up a nasty hornet’s nest, girl.”

“It wouldn’t have been an issue if we’d gone to Proxy!” she fired back. “Two days ago!” she added.

“Ok, this is getting us no where,” Gavin sighed. “Let me be the first to act like an adult here. Things are going to get hairy from here on out. The Military, and if you’re telling me the truth, Mercenaries, are going to be hunting us. I have my own peculiar situation to deal with, and you also seem to be in hot water. So I’m going to propose a truce. You help me out, and I’ll return the favor. You have my word,” Gavin said sincerely.

“Your word, huh? Like your promise to wait for me?”

“I didn’t break my word,” Gavin sniffed.

“Hell you didn’t!” Kella shot back affronted.

“Hell I did! I promised to let you back in, ‘when you got back’. Your words, not mine. And you took your sweet time getting back. I can’t be expected to wait forever.”

“You left me to fight those Cavs! You flew off!” Kella said standing up and shouting at the camera.

“I knew you could handle them! What are you whining for? I let you back in! You’re here, aren’t you?”

“You sunova-“ Kella snarled.

“Ok, fine, fine,” Gavin said placating. “I admit, my intention was to leave you. But I did save your life; I let you back on board. And here you are, safe and sound, are you not?”

“Yes,” she said after a long pause, fuming. Finally she turned and sat back down on the cot. “Fine,” she said disgustedly after another long moment of awkward silence. “I’ll help you, and in return, you’ll leave and disappear. I never want to hear your voice again after this.”

The cell door slid open. “Deal,” Gavin said amicably. “It’s going to be stimulating working with you, Sellsword.”

“Piss off,” Kella retorted quietly as she quickly left the cell and the brig behind.