The Outpost Read online

  But the luxury items he’d brought from Earth when the Santa Maria set out for its terraforming expedition to Mars brought him a weird feeling of security. It was strange to be wearing such casual clothes millions of lightyears from home. When things felt too chaotic, though, a little touch of Earth gave JaQuan the extra boost of courage he needed.

  Besides, he kind of looked like a black Han Solo in this outfit with a beamer at his side, and that made him feel badass.

  “Rischa and I got all the equipment that can be adapted for ore mining aboard the lander,” Alan said as he approached.

  He wore a blue cloak over a yellow tunic and blue pants, which were tucked into black boots. JaQuan shook his head. Alan had gone native, emulating Elohim and Mandran dress.

  Shinzaa handed him a beamer. He put up a hand and shook his head.

  “Nah, you know I prefer my electroray gun,” he said.

  “The electroray gun is neither as precise nor as reliable as a beamer,” Shinzaa said.

  “It’s never failed me yet,” Alan protested. “You saw what it did to Brody.”

  “Alan, I cannot emphasize enough how incredibly dangerous this place is,” Shinzaa said. “You need to be carrying the best weapon I can give you.”

  “The best weapon you can give me is one I am familiar with and feel comfortable using,” he said.

  Shinzaa sighed. Her golden face and blue eyes darkened in a scowl.

  “Fine,” she said. “But if you end up frying one of our people, I will personally take it out of your hide when you get back here.”

  “Assuming he gets back,” JaQuan said with a grin.

  Rorgun joined them. Like JaQuan, he had ditched his ship suit. He wore a loincloth and little else. His mane flowed around his shoulders and extended halfway down his chest. The only other thing that resembled clothing on him was a large wristband with a comms unit attached.

  “Are we loaded?” he asked.

  “Yeah, Rischa and I just finished,” Alan said.

  “Good. Let’s get going.”

  “Just gotta grab my sword,” Alan said.

  “No,” Shinzaa replied.

  JaQuan rolled his eyes. This was entirely too predictable.

  “Don’t play me like that, Shinzaa,” he said. “You know I’ve gotten good. I can handle it.”

  “It’s doesn’t matter if you can handle it,” she replied. “You’re not taking your sword with you.”

  “Damn it, Shinzaa, you know what this means,” he said. “I may be human, but I’m still a member of the Empire. A sword is a statement that you are capable, worthy of respect. That’ll be important if this place is as dangerous as you say.”

  “A sword is also a challenge,” Rorgun said, stepping forward threateningly. “Wearing one implies you know how to use it and are willing to duel anyone who asks. I’m not having you walking into The Outpost, asking for a fight with every would-be pirate who wants to give you one. This isn’t your damned adventure story, Alan.

  “We’re going in to get a Myollnar Crystal. We’re getting it and a few other supplies and getting the hell out of there as quickly and with as few complications as possible. Do you understand?”

  Alan’s eyes were wide as a dinner plates. JaQuan didn’t blame him. While the savagery of the Graur in a fight was well known, he’d never seen Rorgun act even remotely aggressively towards a member of the crew.

  “It’s cool, Rorgun,” Alan said, his voice squeaking just a touch. “I don’t gotta bring it if you don’t want me to.”

  “Good,” Rorgun said. “Go get aboard.”

  “Yes, sir,” Alan said.

  He flashed JaQuan a WTF look and then turned and left. JaQuan regarded Rorgun suspiciously.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” Rorgun said. “You should get aboard too.”

  JaQuan examined him another moment longer. The first mate was full of shit. He wasn’t fine. Something was eating him, although JaQuan couldn’t tell for sure what it was. Maybe he was just nervous about going to Sigba. JaQuan was. Still, it felt like there was something more at work.

  “Here, Rorgun,” Shinzaa said.

  She proffered a beamer. Like Alan, he shook his head.

  “No, thanks,” he said.

  “Rorgun, you may be first mate and leading this expedition,” she said, “but I’m the second mate and the quartermaster. I don’t care how good you are in hand-to-hand combat. I’m ordering you to carry a sidearm.”

  They stared at each other for several seconds, each refusing to back down.

  “Rorgun, if this place is as bad as you say it is, a distance weapon is a good idea,” JaQuan said. “We might not want to be engaged in hand-to-hand.”

  The two Graur continued to glare at each other for several more seconds. Then Rorgun took the pistol.

  “Very well,” he said. “You’d better give me one for Rischa too.”

  “I’ve already issued her one,” Shinzaa said.

  Rorgun tied on the weapon. Setting his jaw, he nodded to JaQuan.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “After you,” JaQuan replied.

  They crossed the hold and boarded the lander. JaQuan strapped himself into the pilot’s seat, then powered up the board to begin the pre-launch sequence. The sense of unease that had been percolating in his stomach since Rorgun had first mentioned The Outpost intensified. His comforting Earth clothes did nothing to assuage it.

  Kitekh drummed her claws on the arm of her command chair. The sound of the lander undocking echoed through the bulkheads. The roar of its stardrive thundered and quickly receded.

  “Lander away, Captain,” Cooressa reported.

  “Thank you.”

  Kitekh stared at her instruments panel. She watched the scanner blip that was the lander weave into the asteroids and vanish.

  “You realize,” Cooressa said, “that by sending half the crew on the expedition team, you have left us barely able to operate the ship.”

  Kitekh scowled. Yes, she realized. Sometimes, Cooressa didn’t know when a report wasn’t required.

  “I had to send both Alan and Rischa to unload the mining equipment in case we need to sell it,” she replied. “Navigating the asteroid field requires our best pilot, and that’s JaQuan. Rorgun is my first mate and therefore was necessary to command the operation.”

  “Yes, but it has left us with a skeleton crew of only four, Captain. That is sufficient to maintain our position and keep the vessel running. It is enough to fly her if necessary. But if we are attacked, we will struggle to defend ourselves.”

  “I can pilot, and Shinzaa can run tactical. Lanaliel’s in the engine room. If we get into real trouble, we can summon Mr. Brody from the makeshift brig.”

  “Given that he has acted against the interests of this ship and crew already, that does not seem wise.”

  “If his life is in danger, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help out,” Kitekh said with a derisive snort.

  “If you say so, Captain. However, until and unless the landing party returns, we are extremely vulnerable.”

  Kitekh wanted to tear her to pieces. She knew all this. She didn’t need to be reminded.

  Especially of the idea that the landing party might not return at all. Kitekh hated sending Rorgun to The Outpost, but he was the one who knew it. He had experience the rest of them didn’t. She had to hope it would be enough to get them the crystal and get everyone back here.

  She wasn’t sure how any of them would survive if he failed.

  JaQuan alternated between looking out the cockpit window and monitoring the scanner on his board to pilot the lander. He could have done it solely with the computer, but seeing the proximity of the asteroids he was trying to dodge helped.

  He swore the damned things were programmed to attack. Rock after rock came directly for the lander, forcing him to jink and swerve like he was flying a starfighter in a dogfight.

  “You didn’t say it was this bad,” he said to Rorgun
.

  “Yes, I did,” Rorgun replied. “You just didn’t understand.”

  JaQuan would have given him a sidelong glance, but he needed to pay attention to the maelstrom out in the belt.

  “I’ve never seen asteroids behave like this,” he said. “They’re not supposed to bounce around like popcorn.”

  “What is popcorn?”

  “An old Earth treat,” JaQuan answered. “You heat corn seeds until they explode. The popped corn is light and fluffy.”

  “And then you smother it in butter and salt,” Alan put in.

  Rorgun sighed.

  “I like you very much, my friends,” he said, “but your culture remains a total mystery to me.”

  An asteroid half the size of the ship suddenly appeared directly ahead of them and was on a collision course. JaQuan swore and put the lander into a dive. Collision alarms sounded, and JaQuan’s board indicated the giant rock had altered its trajectory to continue towards them.

  “Hang on!” JaQuan said.

  He tapped his board furiously and then yanked the stick right to execute a roll. JaQuan ground his teeth and held his breath as he monitored the ship’s relation to the asteroid. It came only inches from the cockpit, and JaQuan could see ice crystals clinging to its jagged surface.

  As they got past it, another, smaller asteroid ventured into their path. JaQuan jerked the stick back left and fired the ship’s braking thrusters to dodge it. This one, too, changed course, but JaQuan avoided it with a quick tap of his fingers to rocket away. With the path temporarily clear, he exhaled deeply.

  “Nice flying,” Rischa said, her voice shaking.

  “Daaaaamn, JaQuan,” Alan exclaimed. “That was some serious shit!”

  “Thanks,” JaQuan muttered.

  He’d feel better when the ordeal was over.

  “Man, this is definitely going in the book,” Alan enthused.

  JaQuan snorted.

  “Alan, you need to lay off that,” he said. “You want to write something, write something important.”

  “Oh, here we go,” Alan said. “Mr. I’m-Too-Good-for-Action-Adventure-Stories doesn’t want me writing something people will actually want to read.”

  “The classics did not get that way by people not wanting to read them,” JaQuan said.

  “All I’m saying is, life is hard out here in space, man. People don’t want to read boring shit about how hard it is. They don’t want to be reminded of their lives. They want to escape them.”

  “They wouldn’t need escape if their lives were good,” JaQuan said.

  “And literature can make lives better,” Alan said, his disbelief and contempt clear.

  “I am afraid I must agree with Alan on this,” Rischa said.

  “Thank you,” Alan said.

  “Words are powerless,” Rischa continued. “Action produces change.”

  “Exactly!” Alan said.

  “But where does the idea to act come from?” JaQuan countered as he swerved neatly around a giant asteroid. “Words aren’t powerless at all. Words are full of meaning. They inspire. They motivate. Words move nations. If you’ve got the gift for writing, you need to use that power for good.”

  “Then why aren’t you a writer?” Alan asked. “You’re so keen to see words used for good; why don’t you do it?”

  “I don’t have that gift,” JaQuan replied. “I’m a pilot and an engineer.”

  “On your left,” Rorgun said.

  JaQuan flicked his gaze out the window and saw an asteroid the size of his head barreling towards the lander. He braked and then dropped down. The maneuver wasn’t fast enough. The asteroid moved at incredible speed and glanced off the canopy with a frightening thunk!

  “Shit!” Alan exclaimed, frightened.

  “Damn, that cannot be natural,” JaQuan said.

  “It isn’t,” Rorgun said.

  “What?” JaQuan asked. “What do you mean?”

  “The asteroids in the Horari Belt move unnaturally,” he said. “Most believe the Kwin Faan animated them to defend the belt from the Empire.”

  “What do you mean, ‘animate?” JaQuan asked.

  “Magic,” Rorgun said.

  “Shit,” JaQuan said, rolling his eyes in disgust. “Don’t try to spook me, Rorgun.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Rorgun replied. “But I am perfectly serious. Not everything in the Empire operates according to science.”

  “Whatever,” JaQuan said, making his irritation plain. “Don’t tell me then. Just don’t expect me to buy into any superstitious bullshit.”

  “You don’t have to believe in something for it to be true, JaQuan,” Rorgun said. “For example, faster-than-light travel should not be possible. The laws of physics do not permit it. And even if it were, interstellar travel would still take many lifetimes. But hyperspace changes those things. It defies physics turning a one-hundred-year journey into one that can be made in days.”

  “That’s not magic,” JaQuan said, weaving around a large asteroid that rolled towards them like a boulder.

  “Isn’t it?” Rorgun said. “Without a hyperdrive, a portal into hyperspace, where the laws of physics do not apply, cannot be opened. If one must travel through an interdimensional gate to a place where nature is completely different, how does that not meet the definition of magic?”

  JaQuan shook his head. This was a circular argument that ignored scientific fact and twisted language to fit the thesis.

  “Hyperspace is an observable phenomenon,” he said. “It has recreate-able effects. Just because it operates on different physical principles does not make it magic.”

  “Magical effects are observable and recreate-able,” Rorgun said. “The Keepers of the Faith practice many forms of magic. They create the effects the same way every time, and the results are observable. The Kwin Faan use the same principles.”

  “Kwin Faan?” Alan asked.

  “Rebels,” Rischa said, disdain drenching her tone. “Terrorists.”

  “That depends on your point of view,” Rorgun said.

  “Hang on,” JaQuan said.

  He tapped commands into his board and then pulled back on the stick. The lander rose over an asteroid before slipping around a second.

  “Now,” he said, “what is this Kwin Faan?”

  “As you know,” Rorgun said, “the Kwin Flaal – the Keepers of the Faith – are the principal priesthood in the Empire. They study and interpret the scriptures and the prophecies, guide the Emperor in his decisions, and bring the Word of God to the people.

  “Fifteen years ago, before you humans arrived, a small sect of the Keepers became convinced that the prophecy portending the destruction of the Empire was in imminent danger of coming true. They said the Emperor had grown corrupt and had lost the meaning of God’s law. They implored him to repent, to save not only his soul but the whole Empire.

  “Well, you can imagine how that was received. The Emperor and the Hierophant declared them heretics. Believing the only way to save everyone was to remove the Emperor from power, the Kwin Faan, or Keepers of Truth as they became known, organized a short-lived rebellion.

  “Unfortunately, their message of fear was not as well embraced as they had hoped. Imperial forces crushed them swiftly and drove them across the galaxy to the Horari Belt, where they made their last stand.”

  “The Imperial Fleet slaughtered them,” Rischa said. “But rumor has it a few of them escaped into the asteroid field. If they did, they have not been heard from since.”

  “There are whispers, though, that the Kwin Faan were right,” Rorgun said, resuming the narrative. “A few years after the Kwin Faan’s defeat, humans arrived in the Empire, inspiring belief that the prophesied Fourth Race had at last been discovered. And now the Emperor has died and left no means to choose a successor.

  “Some people think the Kwin Faan are hiding in the Horari Belt, watching and waiting for the right moment.”

  “The right moment for what?” Alan asked.
>
  “To stage their illegal coup,” Rischa said, snorting.

  “To tell the people what they must do to be saved,” Rorgun said.

  The cabin fell silent. JaQuan spent nearly a minute navigating through another tricky group of asteroids. When he cleared them and had smooth passage again, Rorgun spoke.

  “JaQuan is right,” he said. “Words have power. They motivate, and they change nations. The Kwin Faan may be alive or dead, but the words they spoke fifteen years ago haunt the Empire today.”

  A grin slid up Gwen’s face as she watched the mid-sized cargo shuttle duck out from behind one of the big asteroids and make its way towards Sigba. This was it. She knew it.

  Sitting up in her chair, she tapped commands into her board to scan the approaching vessel. There were four lifeforms aboard – two Graur and two human. They were carrying a load of equipment of some sort. She couldn’t identify it just from a scan, but she was willing to bet they were mining tools.

  Her police instincts screamed that this was the ship she’d been waiting for. If Cataan’s Claw’s hyperdrive had been damaged and they were coming here to have it repaired, it made perfect sense that they had launched a shuttle. A Lankwin-class freighter would struggle with the vicious asteroids, so it was likely parked somewhere safe at the edge of the belt while the smaller craft went in.

  It also seemed strange for a shuttle to be flying unaccompanied but loaded with equipment. Assuming it was indeed mining paraphernalia aboard, why would an ore-miner come to The Outpost in a tiny ship with a load of tools? It could be a merchant looking to sell, but why come in a cargo shuttle? A blockade runner capable of defending itself from pirates would be a much better choice.

  Plus, the shuttle didn’t have a hyperdrive. So where would it have come from?

  No, the most logical explanation, given what Gwen knew, was that this was a desperation mission. The people in that ship needed something. They were bringing equipment to trade for it.

  And what could be a more desperate need way out on the rim of the Empire than a functional hyperdrive? Without it, you couldn’t hope to leave.