Starship Revenant (The Galactic Wars Book 3) (7 page)

K
yva sat
on the edge of her bed sobbing. The tears leaked down her orange and blue skin. She was the daughter of Emperor Tyvelon. She was the queen-in-waiting of Saarkturia. And she could think of nothing worse. Both of those facts made her amphibian skin crawl.

She had a sprawling chamber in the palace that had a beautiful view of the capitol city. But it was nothing more than a gilded prison.

There was a knock at the door, but she didn’t seem inclined to respond. A few moments later, Rylon entered. He carried with him a magnificent evening gown and set it on the bed. “I hope the afternoon finds you well, My Lady.”

“It does not,” Kyva said. Her words were like daggers, and she could see right through Rylon’s pretenses.

Rylon was a wormy sort of Saarkturian. Black, baggy eyes, sharp angular features, and an unrivaled lust for power. He had been advisor to Queen L’Naar, and was now advisor to Prince Valinok. He had orchestrated the alliance with the Decluvians. And for that, Kyva wanted to kill him.

“The ascension ceremony is tonight. Prince Valinok will be crowned King. And, soon you will be his bride. It is a magnificent occasion. I have had the finest gown handmade for you.”

“It’s ugly.” She didn’t even look at it. She kept her head down, sulking.

Rylon’s attempt at cordial behavior vanished. His fake smile turned to a scowl. “You will put the dress on, attend the ceremony, and at least pretend to have a good time.”

“I don’t have to do anything you say. My father is the Emperor of Decluvia.”

“And that is precisely why you must do exactly as I say. It is his wish that you become Queen of Saarkturia one day.”

“I don’t care what he wishes. My life is not for him to determine.”

“I beg to differ, my dear. Your father has given me full authority to discipline you however I see fit. You have the run of this palace, you are treated like a queen, your every need is met… yet, I can just as easily have you locked up and confined until your rebellious spirit is broken. Perhaps then you would be more compliant?”

Her eyes burned into him. She was seething with the kind of rage only a teenage princess could muster.

“My first order as Queen will be to have your head.”

“Well, that should give you some incentive now, shouldn’t it?” Rylon smiled. “Put on the dress.” He strutted out of the room.

Kyva grabbed the dress and tossed it on the floor.

She sat in a huff for a moment, then picked up her PDU and called her father. A moment later, the Emperor appeared on the screen.

“I hate it here, and I hate you.”

“At least you are consistent in your emotions,” Tyvelon said.

“Ugh,” she grumbled. “You can’t make me marry him. He’s repulsive. He’s got pale skin and black eyes. He’s got five fingers. Disgusting.”

Tyvelon rolled his eyes, enduring her rant. “Are you done?”

“No, I’m not done. I’m just getting started.”

“That’s great. I’d love to hear all about it, but I’ve got worlds to conquer.”

“You never listen to me.”

“That’s exactly what your mother used to say.”

She growled at him. “I hate you.”

“One day, when you are ruler of all you survey, you will thank me.”

“Send a transport to take me back to Decluvia, or I swear, I’ll make you regret it.”

Tyvelon was partially amused at her spunk.

“I’ll ruin this whole alliance. I’ll kill the prince. I’ll be executed for treason. Then you won’t have a daughter to boss around.”

“If you’re going to kill him, at least wait until after you’re Queen. By then, hopefully you will be smart enough not to get caught.” Tyvelon ended the transmission.

She huffed and threw the PDU on the bed. She grumbled for the next few minutes, then finally looked at the dress. Kyva picked it up and held it out, gazing at its splendor. She had to admit, it was quite tasteful.

Z
oey’s body
was covered in a slick greasy sweat. Not so much from heat, but from anxiety—though the suit was a little stuffy. The temperature regulator was malfunctioning and was overheating the suit.

In contrast, the halls of the
Revenant
were well below zero. A thin film of frost coated the bulkheads.

Zoey’s heavy breath filled her helmet. Her peripheral vision was obscured by the narrow visor of the old design. It didn’t have the panoramic view of the newer models, and it was starting to fog up.

“We are on board,” Mitch said, transmitting back to the
Zephyr
.

Declan’s voice crackled back over the comm system. “What condition is the ship in?”

“There’s nothing here,” Mitch said. “This place is abandoned.”

Their boots clanked against the deck as they crept down the passageway. The narrow beams of light from their helmets slashed the darkness.

“We need to power the system up. Get the artificial gravity back on. Get the atmosphere replenished,” Zoey said.

“How do we do that?”

“We can run a diagnostic from the CIC.”

“Lead the way.”

It was uncanny how similar the ship was to the
Scorpion
, down to the smallest detail. Zoey moved forward toward the CIC. It was two decks up from where they were.

As the two plodded through the hallway, Zoey’s flashlight beam swiped across the bulkhead. Something she saw in the brief illumination caught her attention. She stopped to examine it.

The beam illuminated a crimson smear that streaked along the bulkhead for several feet.

“What is it?” Mitch asked, wondering why she was stopping.

“It looks like… blood.” She reached her gloved hand out to touch it. As she ran her fingertips across it, the blood seemed to smear. It appeared fresh—which was impossible.

Zoey turned the palm of her glove to face her, expecting to see bloodstains on her fingertips. But nothing was there.

Her face twisted up, perplexed. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

Zoey glanced back to the bulkhead. The crimson smear looked like a swath of rust. It didn’t resemble blood at all.

“Nothing, I guess.” Zoey shook it off. Her visor was fogged and milky. Maybe she had misinterpreted what she saw. She stared at the rusty bulkhead for a moment.

The ship let out a low groan that lasted for a few seconds. The mammoth frame was likely creaking under some gravitational force.

Mitch glanced around, concerned. It was an unnerving sound.

“Come on. Let’s keep moving,” Zoey said.

They snaked their way through the maze of corridors. Zoey climbed the ladder to the next deck. As she reached the landing and pulled herself up, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye—a shadowy figure running through the corridor.

Zoey twisted to see. She almost lost her footing. Her flashlight beams scanned the hallway.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said.

Mitch climbed up after her.

Declan’s voice crackled over the comm system. “Wh— g—ing o— in th—?”

“Come again?” Zoey said. “You’re breaking up”

Declan responded, but his voice was even more distorted.

“I can’t hear you.”

Nothing but crackling static remained on the line.

“It’s probably just the nebula,” Mitch said. “Does funny things to electronics and communications.”

Zoey felt like it was doing funny things to her mind. She could have sworn she saw someone running across the corridor. Without a suit, as if there was gravity on the ship. But none of that was possible. She was beginning to think there might be something to all the stories about the
Revenant
.

She kept reminding herself that it was all just her imagination. It was quite common for your mind to play tricks on you after long stretches in deep space. There had been documented cases of entire crews going insane and turning against one another. The
USS Providence
at the turn of the century. The
USS Rampage
in the colonial war.

She wondered if that’s what happened here. There were many times aboard the
Scorpion
where she felt like she was going to murder someone if they said that same inane phrase one more time. Or if she had to listen to their annoying cackle, or see their stupid smirk one more time. After months and months of monotony, sometimes someone’s very presence just made you want to stab a kitchen knife through their eye socket.

But this was hardly a long stretch in deep space for her. This was just a product of an overactive imagination and too many ghost stories.

Zoey climbed up another deck and plodded to the CIC. She had expected to find skeletons or corpses drifting through the passageways. But there was nothing.

The CIC was dark and empty. Her flashlight beam danced across the control consoles. They were dark and powerless.

There was a clipboard, a pen, an empty bottle of wine, and other odds and ends floating in the air.

“Where are all the bodies?” Mitch asked.

“Maybe they evacuated the ship?”

Zoey stepped to the command station and brushed away the layer of frost that coated the display.

Mitch grabbed the wine bottle out of the air and read the label. “Château Delacroix.” He raised his brow, impressed. “That’s an expensive bottle of wine. Maybe the captain of the
Revenant
was drunk?” He let the bottle float back into the air. It tumbled around, freely.

“Here goes nothing.” Zoey initiated a boot sequence for the ship. She pressed a few command keys but nothing happened. After a few moments, the display flickered to life. Other command consoles began to light up in a cascading array. Just as she had thought, the ship had gone into a standby mode, conserving energy.

The system came online in safety mode. It was a limited mode that brought only essential components online in order to minimize complications, if some components were malfunctioning. It was designed to avoid an entire system lockup.

The emergency lighting came up throughout the ship. The hallways and compartments were still dim and dark, but at least you could see your way around now. It was probably the first time the entire ship had been illuminated in years.

Back on the
Zephyr
, Declan could see the
Revenant’s
running lights illuminate. He tried again to make contact with Mitch and Zoey, but only static filled the comm line.

The
Revenant’s
computer automatically ran a diagnostic to detect any faults. Zoey watched the console as it ran through a list of checks.

“So, what’s the word?” Mitch asked.

“It’s still processing.”

After a few minutes, the system completed its diagnostic.

“Shit,” Zoey said.

“What is it?”

“Good news and bad news. The atmosphere processor checks out. But the engines and reactors are off-line. We’re running on the backup fuel cells now. Looks like there’s a breach in the hull in sections 167 through 172.”

“If it’s small enough, we can repair it”

“I can seal off those compartments, for now.” Zoey selected the compartments on the display screen and closed the hatches.

“I’m going to activate the artificial gravity.” She pressed a button on the console. Everything that was floating around the room crashed to the ground. The wine bottle smashed into thousands of shards. You could hear the echo of debris and clutter clanking throughout the ship as the objects impacted the deck simultaneously on multiple levels. Zoey could feel the slight rumble beneath her feet.

She paged through a few more screens and activated the atmosphere processor. “It’s going to take several hours, but we should have breathable air before too long.”

Plumes of dust and particles rushed out of the air vents as the system rumbled to life.

Zoey tabbed through the display, trying to pull up the ship’s logs. She hoped that they would shed some light on what had happened 25 years ago. “That’s weird. All the logs are blank. It’s like they’ve been erased.”

“Maybe electromagnetic interference wiped the drives?”

“I don’t think so.” She kept scrolling through the data. “All of the escape pods were jettisoned.”

“Why abandon a ship that seems to be intact?”

Zoey shrugged. Her eyes fixated on the pile of broken glass. It was all that remained of a bottle of wine that cost 10,000 credits. Larger shards were still clinging to the label. Zoey stepped toward the debris and knelt down for closer look. She lifted up the label and tried to see through her foggy visor.

“What, are you some kind of wine connoisseur?”

“I know a good bottle when I see one. And I can also read labels. This bottle of wine is only five years old.”

Mitch’s eyes went wide. “Then what’s it doing on this ship?”

“Somebody else must have boarded her in the last five years.”

“And what happened to them?”

Zoe shrugged, her face tinged with worry.

“So, I guess we’ll just go back to the
Zephyr
and wait for the atmosphere to come up?” Mitch smiled nervously. He didn’t want to be aboard the
Revenant
any more than Zoey did.

“Let’s check out engineering first, see what we’re dealing with?”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

W
alker
, Malik, and Saaja cleaned their battle armor and made it somewhat more presentable. It wasn’t quite worthy of an official event with the Emperor, but it was close enough.

Afterwards, Walker explored the ship. Most of the Decluvian crew had never seen a Saarkturian up close and personal. In full battle armor, Walker got plenty of stares as he strolled the corridors. He was convincing, dressed as a Saarkturian.

He found a navigation map on one of the bulkheads. He couldn’t read the Decluvian language, but the visor optics in the Saarkturian helmet gave him an onscreen translation. It was pretty handy, and he wished the UPDF had that technology.

Walker tabbed through the screens and familiarized himself with the basic layout of the ship. It wasn’t all that different from a UPDF carrier. There were only so many ways you could put together the same basic components. Flight decks, command centers, living quarters, recreational facilities, reactors, med center, hangar bays, storage, engineering, etc. He looked for the detention center. It was on deck 3 amidships.

No harm in sizing the place up, he thought. If he could reasonably rescue the prisoners and escape the ship, it would be worth a shot. But he didn’t need to turn this into a suicide mission. He couldn’t let his anger get the best of him. He couldn’t go in guns blazing.

He strolled aft down the corridor—a large bay window overlooked Delta Vega. He gazed out over the destruction below. There was a constant flow of transports, fighters, and drop ships coming to and fro the armada.

Walker clenched his fist, and he swelled with anger. This was going to be the fate of New Earth if someone didn’t stop the Decluvians. Right now, he was the only operational member of the military in the vicinity. He was going to have to be that
someone
.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” a Decluvain sailor said. He spoke in Saarkturese. The Decluvians seemed to be going out of their way to make the Saarkturians feel welcomed. He had taken a position next to Walker, gazing out at the triumphant victory.

Walker wanted to strangle the frog-like bastard. “Quite a sight indeed.”

“If you would have told me six months ago that we’d be fighting for the Saarkturians, I would’ve said you’re crazy. But I’m glad we’re on the same team. We’ll control the entire galaxy in no time.” He grinned. “I’m Gludard, by the way.” He held out his hand to shake.

Walker hesitated. He wanted to punch the bug-eyed amphibian.

“Don’t worry. Our skin is only toxic when we’re threatened. Plus, your gloves would protect you.”

Walker extended his hand, and the two shook. The Decluvian’s long slender fingers wrapped around his hand and squeezed tight. He had a helluva grip. These creatures were lean muscle. They had quick, springy reflexes.

“Well, it was nice to meet you. I’ve gotta get to my post.” The sailor took off down the hall. He seemed like a nice enough guy, except for the part about taking over the galaxy.

Walker strolled aft and descended to deck 3. He made his way to the detention area. As he arrived, the Decluvians were carting out a dead human body. Walker’s eyes grew wide. He recognized the dead man as one of the prisoners from the flight deck. He was alive an hour ago.

Walker’s face tightened. His blood boiled.

Two sailors wheeled the victim passed him in the corridor.

Walker’s rage emboldened him, and he grabbed one of the sailors by the arm. “What happened here?”

“We’re taking these to the royal galley to be prepared for the feast.” The sailor gazed at the corpse with envious eyes. “I wish I was invited to that.”

The two sailors carried on about their business.

Walker felt nauseous.

Two guards stood watch outside the entrance to the detention center. Walker strolled by, trying to get a look inside. He tried to peer in through the viewport in the hatch as he passed. But the guards weren’t having any of it.

“This area is off limits to visitors.”

Walker nodded and kept moving. From his brief glimpse, he had seen a central command station. According to the ship’s navigation map, beyond the command station was an intake and prisoner processing area. The holding cells were beyond that.

He strolled through the corridors until he found another map terminal on the bulkhead. He studied the layout of the detention center carefully. It was a massive holding area capable of housing 1000 inmates.

The detention center was designed to keep people from getting out, but not necessarily from getting in. Walker examined the layout for vulnerabilities. Potential points of entry from neighboring compartments. But no matter how he figured it, breaking a thousand prisoners out of jail and sneaking them to a transport ship on the flight deck seemed like an impossible task.

While Walker plotted and schemed, a security officer had taken notice of him, and gotten suspicious. He watched Walker on a display screen from a surveillance room. He zoomed in to see what was on the map Walker was studying. It sent up a red flag. He was paying just a little too much attention to the detention center.

The security officer ran a bio scan on Walker, and used the fluoroscopic x-ray imaging mode on the hall-cam to see through his body armor. He immediately reported his findings to the CIC.