A Glimpse Beyond: A Space Opera Adventure (Infinite Horizons Book 2) Read online

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“Thank the Goddess,” Sherisza said, falling into Dillon’s embrace.

He nearly collapsed under her weight, weak as he felt between the adrenaline and the minor radiation poisoning. “Damage report?” he had the wherewithal to ask.

“Think they were sending us a message?” he asked.

“You okay?” Dillon asked, still holding Sherisza.

“That was terrifying,” she whispered. “When I was enacting my revenge against MacNault, I did not care if it cost me my life, but now… I was scared, Dillon. Scared for you, my people… and us.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’m lucky I don’t need a change of pants.”

She ignored his attempt at humor. “Daevol, get us back on our original course. Increase speed. If you see that black ship, use every evasive maneuver you have to lose it.”

“How do we reboot our translation chips?” Dillon asked.

“It should happen automatically. Just be prepared for a bit of pain when it does. In the meantime, come, Dillon. The shower will decontaminate us of the radiation while the life support system does its work on our atmosphere,” she said.

He didn’t argue. They took a shower together, and Dillon held her for a while until the fear finally seemed to bleed out of them both. Their translation chips came back online with a burst of pain like an ice cream headache, but it passed quickly. Dillon kept waiting for a message from Daevol that the black ship had returned, but they were left in peace for the time being. He wasn’t sure what thoughts were swirling through Sherisza’s mind, but he could guess easily enough–probably the same ones in his own. Not only was that black ship able to enter the time stream, but it knew how to find them and, worse than that, disable them.

“We’d better not get into any more dogfights until we reach the Kwaagi station,” Dillon said when they stepped out into the air dryers. Sherisza didn’t answer, only nodded. The missiles they had were short range and intended for escape, while the point-defense lasers were almost purely defensive. Without the Kwaagi disruptors, they were essentially helpless in a battle.

Thankfully, Sherisza had arranged for them to proceed directly to Outer Dock Five. The Chrono Drive was set to deposit them not far from the station itself, with no planned stop at the border of Kwaagi space as would be typical. With any luck, the Kwaagi might know something new about their mystery craft. Would it have something to do with the species the Kwaagi were in the middle of skirmishes with? Dillon could only speculate at this point.

Once they were dried off and their clothes were in the wash, they returned to their cabin to get dressed again. Sherisza’s movements were slightly mechanical, but Dillon knew she was just working through every possibility and angle in that brilliant mind. He rubbed her shoulders and she flashed him her little smile, and soon, they returned to the flight deck to watch for trouble.

Dillon looked around, even checking the smaller inset holodisplays. “Where is it?”

“Did we come out of the time stream in the wrong place or time?” Sherisza asked.

“Holy crap,” Dillon blurted.

Sherisza turned the ship in that direction, and before them was an expanse of twisted metal and bits of detritus. Based on its size and breadth, there was little doubt it was the remains of what had been Outer Dock Five or at least something comparable. Considering the station wasn’t where it was supposed to be, it was the most plausible explanation. Dillon scratched at the back of his neck nervously, trying not to consider the loss of life involved, but there wasn’t really anything else to keep his mind off it. Sherisza stared at the wreckage with a palpable mix of fear and regret as well.

“Daevol, scan for–”

“Moving in,” Sherisza said.

“What could have done this?” Dillon mused absently as they navigated the wreckage toward the lone life sign registering on the HUD.

“Significant concentrated firepower,” she answered. “I shudder to think what species the Kwaagi have been tangling with if they are capable of this.”

“There they are!” Dillon shouted, pointing at the suited Kwaagi hanging on desperately. They were tied to a length of hose attached to a section of the destroyed station.

Sherisza brought the Malshekt in close, matching the slight rotation of the wreckage until the ship was moving in perfect harmony with their intended target. Just as when they had escaped from President MacNault’s office, Sherisza dropped the shields before extending the boarding tunnel out to encompass the Kwaagi survivor. The shields sealed the end of the boarding tunnel, forming an airlock, and the little green light beside the Malshekt’s hatch began blinking before there were three bongs.

Dillon went and opened the hatch, not even pausing to consider he could be sucked right out the door if something went wrong. By the slender build of the figure, he expected it was a Kwaagi woman, and he hesitated only briefly when he thought about their taboos over touching a woman. He hooked her under the arms and dragged her into the ship proper, then pressed the sequence beside the hatch to close it and the boarding tunnel.

Sherisza maneuvered them away from the wreckage again while Dillon went to a guest cabin to grab some blankets. When he returned, Sherisza was by the Kwaagi’s side, working to get the helmet off the suit. It came off with a hiss, but she gestured Dillon to lift the woman up. They carried her to the lavatory, where Sherisza got the rest of the suit off and they placed her into the shower for decontamination. If nothing else, Dillon figured the warm water might wake the Kwaagi up if she had gone into hibernation.

Nothing happened for several minutes, but then the warmth seemed to finally get through to the Kwaagi woman. She spluttered and sneezed, but her motions remained slow and groggy. Sherisza went into the shower fully clothed so that someone was beside her, and the Kwaagi tried to fix her slit-pupiled eyes on the Kiandarian. Recognition dawned after half a minute, and the Kwaagi woman relaxed on the floor of the shower, either satisfied she was safe or resolved to be in captivity.

There was only the most minute scent of fear, and though it still wasn’t pleasant to Dillon’s nose, it didn’t rankle him all that much. He got a towel from the linen cabinet and hung it on the handle of the shower door. When the female’s eyes turned toward him, Dillon bowed his head in greeting but then left the room to give her some privacy. She may have been a reptilian with no discernible sexual anatomy on sight, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t consider his presence a breach of decorum. He already knew it was taboo to touch them without permission; there was no sense risking anything else when Sherisza could take care of her.

Dillon returned to the flight deck and strapped himself into his seat. He took control of the Malshekt and began flying simple circuits around the wreckage. “Daevol, transmit imagery to the Kwaagi. Let them know we’ve rescued one survivor and are looking for others.”

“Well, don’t tell them that yet. Let’s keep looking. Do you have an approximate number of Kwaagi who were on this station?”

“Is it possible they’re in hibernation like on the Crooked Talon, so you just don’t detect them?” Dillon asked.

“Shit,” Dillon spat before looking up the corridor. Sherisza wasn’t there, so he didn’t expect to be reprimanded for his language. “All right, let them know we’re still checking the wreckage, but it doesn’t look good. But tell them there’s no sign of the enemy ships, either. Then let’s scan to see if any of the wing fighters escaped.”

He kept flying around the wreckage, avoiding bouncing anything off the front of Sherisza’s ship. The destruction was complete; there were no rooms left intact that might’ve let some of the station workers survive. There was no sign of any life pods, none of the fighter wing was nearby on patrol or otherwise, and there were no life signs whatsoever. Dillon set the scanners to begin trying to determine what exactly had destroyed the station, but in the meantime, he kept his eyes out for any enemy fighters. Just on a hunch, he kept a course laid in on the Chrono Drive, only needing to engage it to escape any sudden attacks.

Dillon perked up at that. “Put it through,” he said.

A holodisplay popped up to overlay the front of the flight deck, and an imperious-looking Kwaagi male in military dress started to speak. He halted when he saw Sherisza wasn’t on the flight deck, and his slit pupils narrowed as he looked at Dillon.

“Captain Rousilarru is with the survivor, running her through a decontamination shower,” Dillon explained after the pause started to get awkward. “I’m Dillon Mackey, her second in command, currently piloting the Malshekt.”

“I see. Tell the captain that the force that attacked our outer dock has now assaulted our inner systems, headed toward our home planet of Kwaaganarr. Stay out of their path. There is no telling how many have come yet or how many more may come in their wake. Thank you for saving our citizen, but get well clear of the destruction, young human. I suggest heading to Outer Dock Six or Four; or, if you prefer to stay much safer, move to Three or Seven. But get out of the path of these invaders, whatever you do.”

“All right. Is there any way we can help?”

The Kwaagi’s feathers rose and then flattened back. “No, human, but thank you. Best if you stay safe and do not in turn need rescuing. Our empire is mighty, and we will handle this surprise attack ourselves.”

Dillon bowed his head. “Good luck. If you change your mind, just contact us.”

The Kwaagi officer bowed his head but then simply cut off the transmission.

Dillon looked around his seat again when he heard movement in the corridor, and he saw Sherisza helping the Kwaagi female into one of the guest cabins. It was fortunate that Sherisza was as muscular as she was, able to handle the slender reptilian female with ease. Once their guest was safely tucked away, probably in bed under some warm blankets, Sherisza went to their own cabin and got changed out of her wet clothes.

She came and sat on the flight deck with Dillon when she returned, and immediately she started looking at the wreckage herself. “By the Goddess, what could have precipitated this?”

“Not sure,” Dillon said. “No sign of survivors or any of the wing ships flying nearby, though. We did get a transmission from Kwaaganarr saying their inner systems were under attack and for us to get out of the path of the invaders as soon as possible. There’s nothing for us to do here; we may as well move on to another docking station.”

“Agreed. Daevol, take us to Outer Dock Six, it should be the next one to rotate to this position now that this one has been destroyed.”

“Let us see if we can get their next wing outfitted to survive an encounter with the bastards who did this,” Sherisza said.

Dillon nodded. “How’s our guest?”

“Resting comfortably. We will explain things to her when she awakens. This does cause us a certain wrinkle, though, Dillon.”

“What’s that?”

“Keeping the existence of the Chrono Drive a secret,” Sherisza said, chewing on her lower lip as she turned to him.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he insisted. “We can just tell her it’s a modified warp drive and to stay the hell away from it. Once she gets used to it and isn’t passing out all the time, she’ll just be curious like I was. If she gets too curious, we’re dropping her off at Outer Dock Six anyway. It’s not that long a trip, I don’t think.”

“True. We must be certain to say nothing, though.”

“Well, let’s just get to Outer Dock Six as quickly as we can; maybe she’ll still be asleep by the time we arrive.”

Dillon smiled up at the ceiling, then centered himself as the effects of the Chrono Drive began to take hold. He hardly felt it this time, though the echoes and shivering of the stars were still there. This would be a much shorter trip, though, and he stayed buckled in for the ride.

The soft clack of claws on the corridor floor was the first hint that she was coming. Dillon and Sherisza both turned to see their guest approaching, wrapped in a blanket to hide her nakedness on the strangers’ ship. Again, it impressed upon Dillon that though her people were reptilian, there was some taboo against nudity, at least among other races. Her head was dipped slightly, and her feathers were tightly plastered to the top of her head, which Dillon recognized as embarrassment from his time among her people.

She was colorful, a dark blue with bright orange stripes, her feathers in multiple hues like a peacock’s tail, though without the trademark eye-like marking. Her eyes were golden and slit-pupiled like nearly all her people, but even with her relatively inexpressive face and the odd eyes, Dillon could easily see intelligence. He dipped his head in greeting to her, and she did the same in return. Sherisza repeated the gesture, but the Kwaagi woman approached to face the Kiandarian squarely.

“Thank you for saving my life,” she said in her people’s tongue, the translators interpreting.

“You are most welcome,” Sherisza said with another dip of her head. “Despite the terrible circumstances, welcome aboard the Malshekt. I am Captain Sherisza Rousilarru, and this is my apprentice, Dillon Mackey. We are on our way to Outer Dock Six, where you may return to your people while we work on the fighter wing there.”

“I am grateful. I know of you well, Captain Rousilarru, though your apprentice is new to me. I am Administrator Azilija. I am sorry to ask, but may I trouble you for something to eat and drink?”

“I’ll get it,” Dillon said, patting Sherisza’s arm. “Keep an eye out for you-know-who.”

The Kiandarian nodded, so Dillon led their Kwaagi guest toward the galley. She seemed quiet and submissive along the way, possibly because she was “just” an administrator, but then he guessed it probably had to do with being the lone survivor as well. She took a seat at the table and Dillon brought her a glass of water and some of the hard-skinned fruit that was staple of their diets on the mobile stations. Azilija dipped her head in thanks but proceeded to eat without saying anything else.

Dillon stayed with her, partially so she wouldn’t be alone but also so she wouldn’t wander into engineering or anywhere else she wasn’t supposed to. There was no telling what she might do after having survived such a trauma. She might do something self-destructive, or she could just go wandering in a half-daze, finding and fiddling with things she shouldn’t. It wasn’t so much that Dillon didn’t trust her, but he erred on the side of caution anyway. Her gaze flicked to him every now and then, and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking. But then a possibility occurred to him.

“I’m sorry I touched you without permission when we brought you aboard,” he said.

Azilija’s feathers stood up straight, and Dillon feared he’d said too much. “Oh, it is of no trouble, human. I am not mated. You provided me a mercy, and for that, I thank you.”

“Glad to help,” he said with a smile, though he didn’t make it too broad considering the rest of her coworkers were dead. “We got word from Kwaaganarr that the invaders are pushing toward your home world, but your people are fighting back.”

“Our empire is strong. The invaders will not prevail over us,” she said.

“Do you know anything about the invaders?” he asked.

“They are powerful. Our explorers were looking to terraform a small world we found across the reaches, and they took offense to this. It began as some minor ship-to-ship battles but has since become targeted skirmishes along our border. Most of these were repulsed. This last one was a concerted attack and destroyed my home base.”

“I’m sorry about your friends,” he said, and she dipped her head in appreciation. “Do you know anything about the people themselves?”

“No communication was ever established. Their ships are strong, but not much stronger than our own. With the modifications Captain Rousilarru could make to our wings, we would defeat them easily.”

“Well, I think that’s what we’re headed to the next outer dock to do. All right, then. Do you need anything else to eat or drink?”

The Kwaagi woman made a dismissive gesture. “This was sufficient. Is there any way I may be of aid to you?”

“As an administrator? I don’t think so,” Dillon said. It wasn’t as if he was going to ask her to scan in Daevol’s notebooks or do paperwork for them. Though he could always ask her to take some of his tests in school if he wanted to be a smartass, he kept that tucked away. “Unless that position means something different to your people than mine.”

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A Glimpse Beyond: A Space Opera Adventure (Infinite Horizons Book 2) Read online

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