P Hillard - The Teller of Lies

“We need anything for the other ships in the uh, fleet, I guess?” Michael said.

“A few things, those are on the list too. That’s not so urgent, we can salvage spare parts from the grounded ships if we need. Most models sold in the Council are fairly standard. Even if a part isn’t a perfect fit you can normally bodge it in some way. The Sword is a little more awkward. Some of the components here I can tell you what they do from context, but they do it in a totally different way to our modern tech. It’s a real learning experience sometimes.” Kestok shrugged, the hologram catching the tips of his shoulders as he did. “I’ve marked things in order of urgency.”

“Ah yes,” Mellok said, his fingers tapping at keys. “I’ve got the list. It’s rather long.”

“Not like we were picky when we were saving ships from Cortica. A lot of them are in bad shape. Consider that we salvaged the worst of them months ago, and then landed a bunch more to build Brekt’s Landing. These are the good ones. Comparatively speaking.”

“Best of the worst,” Michael said. “We’ll have to make do. Before we go spending money on parts, we need to remember the point was to get supplies for the town. Honestly, I don’t actually know how much we have.” Michael had seen Council coins once before, on Ossiark, but had never really gotten a sense of their value. He had been surprised that the Council used coins at all. On Earth physical money was dying out, Michael couldn’t remember the last time he had carried cash and even vending machines took digital payments. Out here in the stars though, their collected funds had been poured into a comically oversized sack, one Michael felt like a cartoon robber carrying.

“Eh, enough to get some stuff, but nowhere near everything we’ll need,” Aileena said. “We’ll have to prioritise the parts for the Sword and supplies for the town. The other repairs will have to be at the bottom of the pile.”

“You might be surprised,” Brekt said, a grin across his face. “I’ve always been pretty good at haggling. I’ll get us a good price.”

“Honestly, Brekt,” Michael said, unclipping himself from the chair and standing up. “If someone your size asked for some money off, I don’t think most people are going to say no.”

“Kestok is bigger than me. Meggok too.”

“Yeah, but they don’t have that same, vibe you know? The whole, could break both your kneecaps but knows he won’t have to thing.”

Brekt turned to Aileena. “Is that my vibe?”

“It kind of is, yeah,” she replied. “Though to be fair I don’t think you do it on purpose.”

“When we were gladiators, we used to have to psyche ourselves up before fights,” Kestok said, the comm channel still open. “It never came natural to us. I bet you never need to shout at your kids. You seem like a withering look kind of dad.”

“Ok, yeah,” Brekt said, nodding in agreement. “You got me there.”

“We’ll begin preparations to jump,” Mellok said. “I believe it would be best to set some kind of timescale we should return in.”

“Two days,” Aileena said as she entered commands into the console before her. “If we aren’t back in two days, assume we aren’t coming back and move Eden and the Sword.”

“Wow, sounds cheery,” Michael said. He couldn’t deny the pragmatism of it. “It’s just a shopping trip though, should be no problem at all.”

Michael didn’t know why he said the things he did. The Seeker had dropped back into real space from its short trip and arrived in a nightmare. Two fleets were engaging each other at close range, beams of exotic particles screaming across space, impacting hulls in ferocious explosions. It was hard to get a good look at the battle, Aileena immediately sending the Seeker into a spiral designed to evade any incoming fire. Despite the sudden movement, Michael felt nothing, the artificial gravity doing its job admirably.

“Get strapped in, now!” Aileena was tapping furiously at the console before her, the Seeker weaving through space at her touch. “Rhythm help us, what is going on?”

Mellok lifted himself into the chair by the communications station, squeezing himself into the egg-shaped furniture. It wasn’t designed for his body type, but he made do. He pressed a button on the console, displaying the Seeker’s sensor data as a hologram before him.

“It looks like a Council fleet is engaging an unknown enemy. It’s not the Substrate, but whoever they are they’re outnumbered.” Mellok peered in closed to the data before him. “There seems to be only three of the unidentified ships currently. Debris suggests that there was four at one point. Council fleet consists of twelve capital class ships, plus smaller escorts. They do not appear to be winning.”

“Well, let’s get the hell out of here, jump us away!” Michael said, strapping himself into his chair. As the harness clicked into place the gel began to spread, creeping over his skin. It had done this once before, when the Seeker had crashed into a ravine. It wasn’t a good sign.

“We can’t, Knower. The jump drive is still cooling down. It’ll take a bit before we can jump away.”

Michael suddenly felt stupid. He knew that was the case, and in his panic had only made himself sound naïve. “What about the planet?”

“What about it?” Aileena’s voice was filled with annoyance. The questions were distracting her from the important task of not flying into an energy beam.

“We can land. Hide out on the surface until it’s clear then jump away.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Brekt said. “Those fleets are shooting at each other, not the planet. Not yet anyway.”

“Agreed, it’s better than staying out here.” The Seeker rolled again as Aileena spoke, a lance of brilliant purple energy filling the control room with a sinister light as it missed the Seeker by a few feet. An incredibly close call on the scale starships operated.

As the energy beam faded, the crew of the Seeker were able to get a good look at the unknown ships for the first time. Whilst the Council ships were made of long shapes that tapered to a point, clusters of claws hanging amongst the stars, these attackers were more utilitarian. Each of the ships was made of simple shapes, long black rectangles studded in boxy looking guns. The engines were simple cylinders protruding from the rear of the vessels. The ships were facing the Council fleet at an angle, tilting themselves so that the weapons mounted atop their hulls could all fire. The cannons were firing pulses of red energy, bolts flying off in rhythmic bursts.

There was one element of the ships that seemed to fight against the rest of their design. Mounted to the prow of each was a strange mechanical head, cables stretching along the neck like muscles. Each had a single baleful eye that glowed a vicious crimson. The heads bobbed from side to side, looking like agonised titans bound within the ships. One caught sight of the Seeker, its eye following the ship like a searchlight.

The seeker fired its engines as hard as it could, blasting towards the planet below. Behind it, the Council fleet continued its battle against the shackled monsters.

Weapons fire surrounded them, the ship spiralling as it tried to evade. A brilliant pulse of energy seared into space as they drew closer to their target. At this range that miss was sheer luck, they had closed to point-blank. The ship thrummed as they returned fire, their shot hitting home, destroying the turret firing at them, the energy beam punching through the other side and vanishing into the darkness.

Orson should have expected this. The targets his tiny resistance had hit so far were communications stations in the most backwater systems he could find. They had been lightly armed, if they had any weapons at all, and taking them had been trivial. Orson and his movement had grown confident, their spirits lifted by the series of victories. They had decided to try their luck in a more populated system, one with more through traffic.