[05] Elite: Reclamation (35 page)

‘Whatever you want,’ she said.

Luko paced around for a moment, looking at his ship and the dank cavern in which it languished.

‘I take you safely home,’ he eventually said with a sigh, ‘but I not fight your war.’

‘Agreed,’ she said immediately. ‘But you should know trader Luko … happiness is not found in money either.’

Luko smiled. ‘Perhaps not, signorina. But better to be miserable in comfort than die a lonely painful death, eh?’

‘I will not die.’

‘We all die, signorina. The lucky ones get to choose how and when …’

She interrupted him. ‘A deal, trader Luko?’

She held out her hand. Luko held her gaze for a moment.

‘Promise me one thing.’

She eyed him suspiciously.

‘I will not be …’

Luko held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

‘Just listen,’ he said softly. ‘A momento … listen to Salomé. She is …’

‘Salomé is dead.’ She stepped back, eyes flashing. ‘She never even existed.’ She took off her ID bracelet and threw it at him. ‘I am Lady Kahina Tijani Loren of Chione. Do we have a deal or not?’

Luko watched her for a long moment. He sighed. ‘A deal, signorina Kahina. Back to the Empire we go.’

She turned on her heel and strode into the docking bay of the Cobra. Luko watched her go. He picked up the ID bracelet and tossed it in his hand before following her inside.

***

Kahina found her way to the cockpit. It was a far bigger space than the tiny version aboard the Eagle. She was able to sit alongside Luko as they both settled in and looked out of the large canopy that stretched across the forward hull. Luko triggered a control and a blast of something under high pressure cleared the mildew from the windows.

Luko set to work on more controls, flicking switches and twisting levers. Kahina looked around in surprise. The flight mechanisms were from a different era. Where the Eagle had been tatty and well used, the Cobra was polished and neat, but every control seemed like an antique. There were none of the familiar holofac displays; all of the instrumentation was far more primitive. She even spotted an ancient mechanical timepiece bolted low down on the console, its face pockmarked with age, marking out time in twenty-four hour segments by the means of two ornate pointers of different lengths.

The entire cockpit was dark hued, with each panel picked out with polished brass highlighting. A bewildering array of physical screens, dials and gauges festooned the cockpit in front of her. Luko finished a sequence of adjustments and a rising reverberation sounded through the vessel. Gauges quivered and rose from their stops, accompanied by an intensifying clamour of various mechanical sounds signalling a growing readiness for take-off.

Kahina grabbed the arms of her co-pilot’s flight chair.

It’s an antique, it belongs in a museum.

‘Thrusters good,’ Luko announced.

Kahina watched as he examined the gauges, tapping one that failed to respond. She saw the needle quiver and settle down. ‘Shields are charging. Main power. Hold secure. Ah … my
Bella Principessa
, you are ready to fly once more?’

She saw him trigger another control and the ship trembled, rising unsteadily underneath them. Clouds of smoke blasted out from around the vessel as it slowly rose. Kahina winced at the reverberation echoing through the ancient craft.

‘Is it supposed to be this noisy?’ she yelled.

‘Just feel the power,’ Luko replied, with a wide grin. ‘She is a good ship.’

He pulled the control yoke in front of him and the old ship tore upwards on a plume of burning fire. Kahina was crushed into her flight chair, pinned by the acceleration. The ship smashed through the vegetation covering the cavern leaving it smoking and charred by the thrust from its take-off jets.

Luko let out a yell of exhilaration.

‘She lives!’

He pushed the yoke and the Cobra accelerated forward. Kahina felt the pressure return in a different direction and saw the mountains recede rapidly on the rear viewing screens. She caught her breath.

It can certainly move ...

‘That way,’ she pointed, gesturing across the desert landscape.

Luko banked the
Bella Principessa
in the direction she indicated. Between them an oblong scanner lit up, green and divided into quadrants. A blip appeared ahead, just off centre. She was pleased with herself, her directions had been good.

‘I have it,’ Luko said with a nod.

They covered the distance it had taken Kahina painful hours to walk in mere seconds. Luko circled around the shattered wreckage of the Eagle once to get a good view before settling the
Bella Principessa
alongside, carefully checking that the ground would support the weight of the ship before shutting down the thrusters.

***

A Federal corvette appeared in the depths of the Mithra system accompanied by a series of fighter escorts. Turning sharply the ships adjusted course, proceeding onwards at flank speed, drives roaring, plumes of exhaust plasma leaving a sparkling wake in the darkness.

Their destination was obvious. The planets in the system were millions of kilometres away, but ahead, shining brightly in the glow of twin stars, a series of large vessels could be seen arranged in a delta formation, holding station in the depths of the system.

A Federation fleet.

One large vessel dominated the assembly. Farragut-class battlecruisers were vessels on a scale that almost defied comprehension. It was unusual to see one of these enormous craft at any time; their presence signalled a significant wide-scale operation was being planned. The vast ship was accompanied by a flotilla of smaller vessels; frigates formed a protective escort, their hulls bristling with anti-fighter weaponry. Smaller, but more numerous, were the corvettes, accompanied by formations of single-pilot fighters that were escorting supply vessels to and from the fleet. Not yet fuelled and prepped, it was clear that the fleet was being readied for a major engagement.

Commissioner Tenim Neseva surveyed the approaching fleet from the bridge of his own corvette, the
Manucacamonton.
Jenu stood beside him, eyeing the mass of ships with a worried and awed expression on her face.

‘I’ve never seen such a fleet,’ she whispered.

Tenim nodded. ‘Something this big hasn’t happened in this sector since the Thargoid incursions of fifty years ago. The military are absolutely loving it. A chance to play with their big guns, strut about in immaculate uniforms, shout orders and justify the enormous cost of keeping all of this running. They can’t wait to have a face-off with the Imperials. The odd minor skirmish is all very well, but …’

‘You think they’re trigger happy? They want a conflict?’

‘Do they want a fight?’ Tenim chuckled. ‘Of course they do. See that battlecruiser? It’s never been in a proper fire-fight, neither it nor its captain. They actually don’t know how they’ll fare against their foes. On specs it’s a close run thing, but in a real-life engagement? Nobody knows. They’d love nothing better than to get stuck into a proper battle and find out.’

‘And what about the Imperials?’

‘They’ve got something similar according to reconnaissance. Their fleet is positioned at Haoria. Before long we’ll all be ready to jump into the Prism system. That’s when things will get interesting.’

‘A battle?’ Jenu said with distaste.

Tenim shook his head. ‘Don’t worry my dear. That’s why we’re here. Unfortunately for our military friends, wisdom and cool thinking will prevail over raw untempered lust for gore and glory. Our friend, Ambassador Cuthrick and I will negotiate a face saving truce for all involved.’

‘Our … our friend?’ Jenu stammered. ‘He’s the one who sanctioned the invasion of Chione!’

Tenim sighed ‘My dear, you need to appreciate the bigger picture. Chione was never ours in the first place and now the system is in the clutches of a notorious frontier’s woman ...’

‘As you arranged.’

‘My dear, a little more discreet please. I had nothing to do with it.’

‘Nothing that could be proved.’

Tenim gave her an impatient look. ‘Regardless, it’s lawless and uncouth. It’s high time that the boundaries of civilisation engulf this little system and push the lawlessness out to the edge where it belongs. The Imperials care little for the system itself; access to the Tantalum is all that matters. We’re in the same position.’

‘But, surely we want the moon?’

Tenim shrugged. ‘Why? It’s of no specific value, its strategic location is poor, the surface mostly water bound. There’s nothing else of value in the system. It will be an administrative overhead for whoever controls it. We will deny that of course and then grudgingly give it up with great remorse, playing our part in keeping the peace.’

‘Oh …’

‘As long as appropriate rights to the Tantalum are secured and agreed, both sides will be happy with an arrangement one way or the other.’

‘So you want to remove Octavia and her pirates.’

‘We all do. She’s been an excellent tool in frustrating Imperial ambition in the system until this point, but we’re now ready to come to terms. This fleet is merely an announcement to the Imperials that it’s time for that discussion to commence.’

‘And what of the Loren girl?’

Tenim paused. ‘Something of a wildcard in the game, it makes things interesting. Octavia will use her to attempt to start a conflict. The Imperials will use her to strengthen their bargaining position. Yet no one has mentioned her at all. Our own spies have been unable to locate her. Perhaps she’s already dead. We’ll have to deal with her as and when she appears. Fret not. What can a single girl possibly do?’

***

Luko had boarded the wreckage of the
Talon
and raided it for parts. It hadn’t taken him long to find what he required. He responded to Kahina’s questioning look with a brief thumbs up. The
Talon’s
hyperdrive system was salvageable and had the spares Luko needed to fix the
Bella Principessa.

It took him a while to pull the modules from the smashed ship. Kahina watched for a while, idly wondering what the collection of complex bits and pieces strewn across the cargo bay actually did. Luko had busied himself with removing the damaged equivalents from his own ship. Kahina left him to it, he seemed like he knew what he was doing, but it was clear it wouldn’t be finished quickly.

She was occupied by her own thoughts.

Luko and his foolish prattling on about hopes and desires. He was clearly a fool and a dreamer. No wonder he’d got stuck on this desolate planet. By contrast, she was the daughter of a Senator, with responsibilities and duty to uphold. The last of her line, with an esteemed place in Imperial society to enjoy. Thousands of citizens to pledge their allegiance to her, an entire moon to rule …

She caught her breath, feeling her heart pounding with excitement.

Luko was right on one count though, reclaiming Chione wasn’t going to be easy. She might have the rights to the moon, morally and legally, but taking them back was another thing entirely. The news reports said that Federation and Imperial fleets were massing in opposing systems. She’d read enough of her father’s messages to know that such events were commonplace, if not on the scale of this one. They always ended in a face-saving climb down by both sides after days of aggressive posturing, a safety valve to prevent an all-out war.

But they had all assumed the Loren family was no more. As a survivor, she changed the game. The Federation, if they truly had instigated the rebellion, would want her dead – she could expose their treachery. Rage flashed within her. Ultimately they were responsible for the death of her family, supporting these treacherous Reclamists. She remembered Vargo’s furious face, the brutal execution of her parents and the bullets that slashed the life from her sisters.

There will be no mercy for you.

The Empire? Avoiding an expensive conflict would surely be uppermost in their minds, but how would they react to her survival? It would give them an excuse to further their ambitions in this sector, securing the mining rights for the Empire. They would be duty bound to defend her honour once they knew she was alive. Her father’s fleet was now hers. Who was the man in charge? Ah, yes, Fleet Admiral Brice, she’d met him once. He knew his duty. The power was at her fingertips.

Her hands trembled with anticipation.

She remembered her father boasting about the Imperial fleet he commanded. She remembered a holofac of an enormous vessel, as big as a city … it was hers now. Hers! And Luko thought she’d be happy settling for a flux-stained piece of junk and heading out into the empty void? The fool.

And Dalk?

She repressed a tremble when she thought of him. She’d trusted him, believed in him. He’d trained her to fight, to understand the politics, to be ready. Ready for what? He’d betrayed her father to the Reclamists. He’d run her through with his sword. She could recall it clearly now, it was a killing blow; practiced, swift and deadly.

What had he said as blackness closed in about her?

It’s better this way.

She’d woken on Hassan’s ship. Restored to health. He’d said he’d attacked an Imperial ship on the orders of the black market dealer, the woman Hassan had been terrified of – what was her name?

Quinton. Octavia Quinton.

 So why was she on that ship? Why go to the trouble of taking her body from Chione? Somebody needed her alive, that was clear enough. But why? Was it Dalk? Why arrange for her family to be killed and then save her in this bizarre fashion? Was it Octavia? What possible interest could a Senator’s daughter be to a black market dealer? Ransom? That made no sense. There was no one left alive to pay it. No other Senator would care.

And yet …

Dreams of space, travel and freedom crossed her mind once more. She didn’t have to do this, she could leave it all behind, be the mysterious and vulnerable Salomé. Find a different way. No one would ever know. Just find a ship, a little money and head out into the void.