A month in –
The ships were finally getting along like a real pairing. This move had done wonders. Thanatos probably considered it a fresh start.
The planet they had found was one with a very low koveran signature, barely noticeable on the nodescape. Had it not been for the map the NCR Puritan had given them, they would have never even found it. Thanatos still hadn’t told Darnell about that Puritan’s fate. In fact, he had even suppressed the memories associated with that encounter, at least from Darnell. Though that wasn’t that uncommon when it came to intimate encounters. Wasn’t that uncommon when it came to extremely violent encounters either. A lot of Thanatos’ memories were suppressed ones.
Darnell had finished building a house near the equator of the planet. It was warm here. The planet was near the outskirts of the G-type star’s habitable zone. It was a lot like most floral planets, though animal life here had not really evolved yet, not as far as the beems’ scans indicated. If there was life beyond the microbial, it was below the mantle, or in the ocean, where the ships couldn’t see. It was a nice house. He was proud of it. They didn’t use any neoplastic compound from Tier Zero either, though the construction drones had been useful in fine construction. They didn’t seem to care whether they worked with equipment from a ship’s Tier Zero or from a planet’s.
Kite was able to come in close, having learnt to compensate for the planet’s gravity field early. Thanatos was still learning, with Kite giving him lessons whenever she could. He was far more massive than Wings, and Thanatos had no inherent gravimetric skills either. It would take time for him to be able to fly across fields as gracefully as Kite. And even once he learnt, it was only for this planet. He’d have to relearn the skill for every gravity field, though Kite hoped that after mastering this one planet, he would be able to learn other gravity fields with slightly more and more ease.
–
Six months in –
This was the best time he’d ever had. Nobody had pursued them. There was nothing on the beemspace band either other than their ships. They were truly alone here, free from politics and war, but some problems had begun to arise.
Kite noticed it first, a pale portion of Thanatos’ hull, right at the base of the neural plexus. It was the preliminary signs of an infection. The neural inhibitor that had been disabled during their encounter with the Puritan was now beginning to inflame the surrounding tissue. For the moment, the infection wasn’t severe, but there was a chance that it would complicate things over time, perhaps in the next few months. Maybe it would never get worse – time would tell.
Another problem was the lack of koverans. In the six month stay, the ships had drained all the koverans that had built up on this planet. It would take time for the koverans to replenish. The ships couldn’t stay awake in the system for more than twelve hours. They generally flew off to other systems when the twelve hours expired, and stayed in a low power state – essentially slept – until the koverans were replenished enough for them to return for another twelve hours. Regenerations took around six hours if done in a low-power state, and Darnell always worried that something would intercept them. Thanatos insisted that he and Kite would be fine, and preferred he didn’t accompany them just out of that worry. In fact, Thanatos and Kite had preferred their captains planetside ever since they had found this new home. It wasn’t that unnatural, considering Kite’s condition.
She was pregnant. It happened on the fourth month. She wasn’t the only one pregnant either, Carey was too. She had become pregnant the second month in, and was half way now. Kite still had time, gestation periods for beems were slightly longer than most raumenoids, averaging at around a year, sometimes more when it was a mix like this. While Carey’s only bets were whether it would be a boy or a girl (the beems knew, but didn’t divulge), the ships had more guesses. Their offspring could be a male or female Descendent, Puritan, or perhaps a mix of Descendent and Puritan traits. Maybe they’d get a Descendent producer, that would be useful. Or a Descendent with great gravimetric traits. Or a Descendent with… Darnell realized that he really wanted a Descendent, he wasn’t sure what Carey wanted, she was probably pre-occupied with the pains of pregnancy.
–
On their eleventh month, Carey went into labour, and Darnell became a father. It was a boy. Medical drones immediately gave him a proto-neural interface, one that would grow with him, that he would master instinctively, just like Carey’s and Darnell’s.
–
A year and four months later, there was a beems that the child could call his own.
“He’s sensed the link.” a mellow Kite reported. The newborn beems immediately sensed the unlinked interface and embraced it. There were no complications, the medical drones reported both parties at optimum health. The babies would mature together, their brains assisting each other on the path to adulthood. The link would be the most powerful link a beems could have with a raumenoid, it would be a type-3 link, like Carey and Kite, and Darnell and Wings. Carey could sense Darnell’s sudden grief at the thought of his last ship. He tried very hard to hide the torment from Thanatos, who would be greatly bothered by it, having been the tool used to destroy his precious Wings. She put her arm around him, hugged him.
“It’s alright, Darnell.”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be thinking of such things.” he whispered, ensuring Thanatos wasn’t monitoring the beemspace band. Both ships were too distracted by their offspring, and Darnell was soon swept away by the contentment as well, his baby cooing in Carey’s arms.
–
Two years in, and Violet could fly like her mother. She was as her name indicated, a beautiful purple, with little patches of black shading her hull. A wavy line of black pigmentation silhouetted her as well, making it look as if space was closing in on her, trying to swallow her.
She still wasn’t very communicative, at the infant stages of growth. They had a debate whether she should continue being ‘breastfed’, as it were. Carey had just stopped breastfeeding her future captain, and Kite was compelled to do the same, but the low koveran levels meant her offspring could benefit from a few more months of open nutrient hatches. They finally decided on letting the baby beems ‘breastfeed’.
Thanatos was getting slower, but he denied it. Darnell worried that the infection might be affecting his neural plexus in some way. They weren’t sure what Rahjaad would say, or Zemoria, for that matter. Deserting was illegal, and punishable. If they returned to Galactic Council space, they would lock Darnell away for life, most likely, and give Thanatos an ultimatum of either going up on the market for a new captain, or becoming an exile, kill on sight.
Still, even with all the risk, I really think we should go see Rahjaad. We shouldn’t wait until this becomes a problem.
I’m fine. Thanatos replied, the same generic, defensive reply he gave every single time Darnell brought the topic up.
I wish that were true, but your jumps are more inaccurate, your rests are longer, your hull is paler—
The risk is too great. There is too much to lose. Thanatos said. I never knew I wanted a family, a home. But now I see how wonderful all of this is, and the thought of losing it is terrifying. I don’t want to risk destroying that family.
If you are killed by the infection—
I’ll take my chances with the infection.
If I find a doctor in the outer rim – we’re going. Understood?
A safe doctor… and he’s not going near my interior, let alone the neural plexus. I’ll submit to a physio, that’s it.
Yeah, if I find a doctor we’ll start small. Try to identify the infection externally, get some sort of diagnosis. The database has been useless.
Infections were rare among beems, which was most likely why the database was useless. There was a small excerpt on infections gotten during combat, but it said those infections always healed within a month. There was no disease capable of outgunning bemicytes.
–
Three years in. Darnell was alone, on the planet of Fort II, a dark, dangerous, desert planet. It was raining an artificial water-analogue from a dumper up in orbit. He was out of direct neural communications range with his dying ship, Thanatos. But he could still feel his presence, even after a week of living here, mingling with the locals.
He finally got a lead, and was going out to meet someone today. In a dark alley, what better place? The floor was wet with an artificial acidic rain, it hadn’t stopped since he’d arrived. His robe was drenched, brought over his head to hide his true nature. Underneath his robe he had a suit Carey and Kite had crafted for him, laced with the same fibre that reinforced a beems’ ablative hull. It was very light, and strong. So long as there were koverans, his own beemveins – a mere side-effect of having been a type-3, could nourish the armour, it having been linked into his beemveins like an IV into a real vein.
It took time to master masking exertion, as his beemveins automatically assisted in venting heat. Controlling that was difficult, but he had time. Who was he kidding, no he didn’t. Thanatos could die any moment, his infection having pressed against his neural plexus, paralyzing him. He had to take extra care in who he divulged his ship’s state to, and to reach that extra care, he had to learn to master his beemveins, hide them from sight. They illuminated when they vented, drawing koveran energy.
“The ravens are out today.” Darnell said to the man who was standing by the alley, shielding himself from the rain with an old newspaper. He barely had any clothes on. They were just rags, really, and he was skinny as bones. Short too, a nimble creature, old. Darnell was surprised they would send such a frail man like this out to meet him.
“Come with me.” said the man, walking down the alley he had been waiting by. Darnell followed, looking behind him at the few people that were lying against the alley walls, either intoxicated or asleep, or both. He couldn’t believe people actually lived like this.
The old frail man knocked on a door. A man opened it, younger, masked in robes. His face was impermeable, but his mouth revealed a white smile as he beckoned them inside. In the corridor they entered, Darnell saw the flickering of candle lights, throwing shadows across the stony conduit.
It was quiet, except for a dripping from the rain outside. There were no other footsteps but their own as they traveled down the corridor, turning.
“What is this place?” Darnell asked.
“A quiet place, where nobody will bother us.” said the frail man.
Darnell wasn’t very sure about this. He didn’t like being cut off from the outside, caged, in a sense. He felt for his beemsword, a sword created by almost all Descendents, a design that was infinitely ancient, passed down by the generations. In the right hands, a sword such as this would be deadly. Darnell had trained, sparring with Carey, learning close quarters combat, knowing that one day it would come in handy. However, even with all that training, Darnell really hoped that today wasn’t the day that he be tested. In a cavern, in the dark, in the rain, disconnected from his ship.
“So I hear that you are looking for a man specialized in beems physiology?” croaked the old man, his words slow and painful. The younger man opened a door, the lock sliding. Two other men were on the other side, all wearing robes.
Darnell’s became even more uneasy, unsure if he should divulge any more information.
“Yes.” he replied meekly, trying to remember the turns they had taken to arrive in the chamber they were at now.
“Descendent, I presume?” asked the man.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Your sword. While hidden to the eye, it bleeds koveran energy.”
“You can see koverans?”
“It’s a trait I’ve developed over the years, yes.” the old man said with a smile. He sat down by a table. It was surrounded by large chairs, eight of them, carved from real wood, with mysterious designs that seemed to resemble beemveins. Darnell automatically ran his hand along the design, pulling it away.
“The designs were… inspired by those on your hand, I wish to believe. But they could have just been vines, or other flora. There was once a time when this planet was beautiful, you know.”
Darnell didn’t say anything. The old man beckoned for him to have a seat.
Darnell checked the chair before sitting on it. It was very sturdy. The old man took a seat at the head of the table, two large candle-stands flanking him, casting his shadow over the chamber imposingly. It flickered, as if licked by flames, or the nether. There was a presence to this man, a presence that gnawed at Darnell’s mind.
“Are you alright?” the old man asked. “Do you feel uneasy? Would you like a glass of orange juice?”
“Orange juice?” Darnell asked, confused.
“Leave us.” the old man said with a wave of his hands. The guards left, closing the chamber doors. “There. Do you feel better now? Are your tactical programs at ease?”
Darnell’s neural interface had never been loaded with programs. It was just a mere bridge between him and his ship. Regardless, he nodded.
“Good. There aren’t many like you who come by these parts. The ones that do are usually rogues. Pirates. Are you a pirate?”
“No.”
“You claim to need someone specialized in beems physiology? I had assumed that meant capture.”
“Not capture. Medicine?”
The old man laughed, then coughed violently. “Medicine?” he asked, “What exactly do you mean?”
“My… one of my ships… has been infected. The infection, or the swelling. I am not sure, but something is affecting his neural plexus.”
“An infection at the base of the neural plexus? What an ancient symptom, one of the Coalition days. The days of neural inhibitors. Many ships, captured ones, I’d add, have such symptoms, or had, should I say.”
“Had such infections? So there have been others? You have encountered this before?”
“Yes, in the past, during the Zemorian-Coalition war.”
“That was over a thousand years ago.” Darnell said.
“Has it been that long? Time eludes me.” the old man said with a sigh.
“Can you save him?” Darnell asked.
“Yes. I can save your ship.” the old man said confidently. “But first—“
“I can take you to see him right away.” Darnell said.
“Oh no. There are things that must be done first. Payment.”
“I have credits, not much, but I make up for it in items that I can have produced for you. Anything you need.”
“Items are not what I need.”
“What do you need?”
“Hope.”
“Hope?”
“My people are losing faith. More and more desert every day, fearful of Narul.”
“A horrible person, the current dictator of this planet. He skims all profit, takes everything while the planet dies.”
“Why don’t the people overthrow him?”
“He is very powerful. A type-3, like yourself.”
“I see.”
“His power commands respect. The people follow him out of this power. Out of fear. He arms them. Nobody questions him.”
“Where is his ship?” Darnell asked. He hadn’t noticed a gravimetric signature when Kite dropped him off.
“It rests on this planet’s moon. We track it.”
The old man walked over to a pillar, interacting with the glyphs on it like a terminal. It projected a screen of light onto the pillar across from it.
“A vidscreen.”
The moon and planet were projected onto the hologram, as well as a small flashing icon. “That’s the ship there. Can your fleet take it out?”
“If I destroy this ship, and kill this… person. You will heal Thanatos?”
“Yes.” the old man replied.
“I’ll return soon.”
–
“A Descendent gunship?” Carey asked.
“Yes. Can Kite take it down?”
“Possibly. But who will watch the kid?”
“Violet’s got a bridge? I’ll stay aboard her with Liam.”
“Hijacking neural links is a violation of – right, we’re outlaws.”
“That’s a good idea. Direct control. If Violet allows it. I’ll focus on keeping her clear. You engage the Descendent.”
“Sounds like a plan. But why don’t you stay here?”
“If something happens to you, I want to be able to help.”
“Fine, but don’t get Violet killed, and yourself in the process, our kid…”
“I won’t, if you promise the same.”
They kissed, “I promise.”
–
Kite jumped in at range, several AU’s from the planet, masking her koveran signatures. Violet stayed close, and Darnell traveled back to the planet, found the old man.
“We have an agreement. We will try to destroy the Descendent.”
“I will only assist Thanatos if you succeed.”
Darnell nodded, disappearing into the streets, returning to the parking area where his fighter was landed. There were soldiers searching it. He turned away, disappearing behind a low wall. He pretended to drink, lying against the wall like a local. He was so close to having a perfect life, where nobody would bother them, and here he was, in this mockery of rain, sitting on this dying planet. He used his neural interface to connect to the fighter’s sensors.
The move was worse than he’d thought, the guards immediately took note and ran straight for his position.
He thought of using the fighter to engage them, but its energy output would light it up: A bright bullseye for the waiting Descendent.
Carey? They’ve spotted me.
Already? You were only supposed to talk to the man!
I did, they must have realized the fighter was koveran-based.
I’ll zero in on you and help when I can, but Kite only has one chamber. When she jumps—
I know. Don’t come in unless you think I absolutely need the help.
How am I supposed to know when you absolutely need my help?
You’ll know. Darnell said, cutting the link. Time sped up, the soldiers were closing on him now. He pulled the sword from his robe. It immediately activated, siphoning koveran energy. It glowed an ominous red, then yellow.
This wasn’t just a sword, he grabbed it like a rifle and came out from behind cover. The soldiers scattered as he fired a burst of pure koveran energy out at them. The koveran energy mushroomed, shrouding the entire area in destructive energy. Everything was incinerated. The shot had drained most of his energy. The sword glowed a dim red now.
He bolted for the fighter, powering up its engines as he ran. People were screaming, the crowd was running here and there, soon he was surrounded by people, protected in the crowd. He could hear the sound of soldiers yelling.
Someone grabbed him, he felt the heat of another koveran blade, he instinctively deflected it with his own, breaking free of the grab with a kick. The crowd cleared the two combatants, some stole glances before disappearing from the parking lot. Soon the crowd was replaced by soldiers, their rifles trained on Darnell. His sword trained on the Descendent captain.
Droplets evaporated as they touched the captain, betraying the presence of a koveran shield. It should be draining his energy, but his sword still glowed a bright, healthy red. The same color as the man’s skin.
It was very quiet for a few moments, before the man spoke, “Who are you?”
Darnell didn’t say anything. Unsure of whether he had enough power to emit a koveran shockwave, one that might be able to free him from this situation.
I need more energy. Darnell growled over the neural band.
You take this energy and Kite won’t be able to jump in.
I might be able to use it to create a shockwave, break free.
The Descendent will shoot you down.
Time returned, “I won’t ask again. Identify yourself.”
A flash appeared beyond the atmosphere. Darnell’s gravimetric senses identified it immediately: The captain’s Descendent, standing by just outside the planet’s gravity well.
One jump. The Descendent had two more chambers. Oh how he wished Thanatos was here and healthy.
Then again, maybe it didn’t. All that energy the captain was drawing was most likely taking up the second chamber, which meant the ship had one more jump. If Darnell activated a shockwave now, and the captain used up that energy, and drew more… the Descendent wouldn’t be able to pursue his fighter into beemspace. If he could get into beemspace in time.
It would be a risk, but he took it. He activated a shockwave, it lashed out in all directions, incinerating the soldiers around him. The captain shielded himself. Darnell ran for the fighter. The captain blocked his path and slashed with his sword. Darnell parried. The captain wasn’t drawing any more energy.
Darnell stayed close to the captain, trading blows. He wasn’t sure how good a shot his Descendent was. He opened a link with Violet. Violet automatically accepted, feeling very content nuzzled up against her mother, oblivious to the tension around them.
He began to draw more energy, and used his koveran-infused sword to turn the tide of this swordfight. Now the captain had no choice but to deflect the attacks with koveran energy of his own. This was his chance, he lunged at the captain, slashing once with his sword and dropping down with a leg sweep before the captain could counter.
Time froze as something hit him. He cried out, falling to the ground. He only heard the gunshot after, when he was down, clutching his leg in pain, meters from his ship.
The captain got up, the smoking pistol still in his hand. He trained it on Darnell.
Just then, the captain’s shield flared as it deflected several more bullets. It was the old man’s rebels, emerging from the crowd, using the momentum to start a riot.
Darnell heard the sonic crack, the harbinger of the destruction about to rain down on them from above. “We must get in the ship now!” he yelled to the rebels aiding him. They nodded, running up the ramp as several kinetic shells rained down on the crowd. The explosions and gore caused more panic and hate. More civilians took up arms, began destroying everything they saw. More shots rang out from above, slicing away at the people to no avail. The rebels opened fire on the captain, who retreated behind debris.
There was a bright flash as what appeared to be planetary batteries returned fire on the Descendent.
“Thank you.” transmitted the old man over one of the rebel’s radios, “But the deal is not complete until that Descendent is destroyed. The defences we captured are incapable of penetrating its shield.”
“Keep trying. It should be on its last leg. It can’t jump.”
“How about your ships?”
“Their chambers are empty as well, running on nothing but capacitor now. Your batteries should be able to finish it.” Darnell said.
The kinetic barrage from above was now aimed at where the batteries had fired from. Smoke filled the sky as the massive hypervelocity slugs hit the planet with the energy of a small nuclear blast.
“What batteries?” the old man asked with a laugh. “We have nothing that can hurt that creature now.”
“Shit.” Darnell muttered, taking off with the fighter. Tracking alarms immediately blared at vectors equal to that of the Descendent’s. “It’s tracking us.”
More sonic cracks. There was a trail of destruction behind the fighter as Darnell built up speed. His life flashed before his eyes between the sonic blasts and the impacts. Any one of those could be his final moment. He charged the fighter’s tiny koveran reactor. It would be a blind jump.
He closed his eyes for the jump, opening it only when there was complete silence. Three rebels had followed him onto the fighter, all clutching their rifles, staring out at the cockpit window, to the stars beyond. It was quiet, there was nothing near them. The fighter determined its positions with the stars, they were ten light-years away from the planet.
Can you hear me? Carey? Darnell transmitted over the beemspace band.
There was no response. The fighter’s chamber would take six hours to recharge.
A gravimetric warning. The Descendent had followed them. Darnell let out a sigh of defeat. There was nowhere to hide in space. It was just a matter of time now.
It’s here, Carey. Darnell transmitted. I love you.
A bright pulse, only visible on the lower frequencies, emerged from the ship. An omnidirectional scan. It was trying to find them. Another pulse. Darnell had thought he’d be dead by now.
“Nobody move.” Darnell whispered. He wasn’t sure how acute the Descendent’s mass detectors were. The slightest distortion could give their position away.
It pulsed again, and began flying in a different direction.
Suddenly it spun around, the fighter’s passive sensors picking up the massive change in velocity and energy before being overwhelmed by an active scan, blinding it.
Darnell immediately jinked the fighter to the left, keeping the Descendent to his three o’clock. He changed his velocity randomly, kinetic slugs flying past him, loud screeches to his fighter’s recovering passive sensors.
A single high-yield warhead could finish them. He wondered why the Descendent had not fired one yet. Could it be it didn’t have any? Some Descendents didn’t load explosive rounds for fear of a hit to the cargo hold ending their lives early. Regardless, it would definitely be readying one now from its koveran chamber.
His calculations had been off, the Descendent shouldn’t have been able to follow him. It continued firing its kinetic shells relentlessly.
So close to having a perfect life. He brought the fighter around, flying straight for the Descendent. Flashes gave away the shots, and Darnell gave his fighter a lateral thrust each time one occurred, dodging the kinetic shells with each. He was close enough to the Descendent now for it to start using shots from its capacitor. They were energy rounds, similar to a koveran burst, and could have the yield needed to destroy him. But the Descendent never used those shots, even as he was closing in on its shuttle bay, meters from it now, in the cannon’s blind spot.
Perhaps his calculations hadn’t been completely off. It might have used its capacitor to close in, rather than koveran energy. Which meant it had no power now, not even a basic electrostatic shield. He trusted his new hypothesis and proved it, landing on the Descendent ship. It spun fruitlessly, trying to shake off its attacker, but Darnell had already polarized the fighter’s hull, the small craft’s gravimetric lens stabilizing the inertial pull of the spin.
“Let’s go.” Darnell said to the rebels.
They nodded, checking their rifles. He used the fighter’s remaining capacitor power to extend an electrostatic shield out onto the hull of the Descendent. This was a notoriously weak section of hull, the port dorsal side. There were no vital organs here, only a maintenance hatch. He used his sword to cut the hatch open.
“Your side-arm.” Darnell said, taking one of the rebel’s pistols as he crawled into the hatch. As he’d expected, drones were immediately being sent to engage. Darnell opened fire on the drones guarding the maintenance hatch, using their beetle-like bodies as a shield as he crawled towards a corridor. One of the rebels had a rifle over Darnell’s shoulder, ready to fire on any drone that may have a clear shot. The last rebel came in backwards, his rifle firing on the drones that tried to engage them from behind. When either the first or third rebel ran out of ammunition, they gave their rifle to the rebel in the middle, who gave them his rifle as he reloaded theirs. These men were well trained, fearless.
“We’re at a corridor.” Darnell said to the rebels. He jumped down the hatch. The maintenance drones were inaccurate, not designed for combat, their bodies unable to handle the recoil of a shot, taking precious seconds to recover. He destroyed all eight that guarded the hatch. The spent magazine fell from his archaic pistol. One of the rebels handed him another.
Darnell hadn’t used a kinetic weapon for a long time. It felt so primitive, yet so natural. The mechanics of this pistol gave birth to every weapon after it.
Footsteps. Darnell crouched, the rebels taking up fire-sectors around him, opening fire on the crew that appeared.
“A crew… that explains the lack of fighters.” Darnell speculated over the gunfire, the shell casings piling up around them.
He moved, the rebels moved in symphony, firing on the crew as they traveled. Darnell had replenished enough koveran energy to ready a shield to deflect a few kinetic bullets if needed. He doubted there would be a need, however, the rebels immediately suppressed or killed any crewman before they could get a shot off. They left a trail of casings and magazines as they traveled towards the neural plexus. Darnell had stopped running, walking calmly now, the rebels scanning the area around him. The crew had stopped trying to defeat them, knowing they were outmatched.
“We’re here.” Darnell said, standing by the door to the bridge. “Watch for IST’s.”
The rebels nodded, understanding.
Then Darnell remembered what the old man had said. He had thought he had been a pirate. Those must have been his clients, people that needed Descendents captured or destroyed. It must have been why the rebels felt so at home here. They had done all of this before.
He drew his sword, cutting into the door’s locking mechanism. The rebels readied their rifles, preparing for the Descendent’s final attempt at defending the bridge.
A swarm of drones appeared, and the rebels unleashed hell with their rifles.
Click, the door unlocked, and Darnell immediately fired on the Internal Security Turrets, destroying all four before they could be trained on him.
The captain wasn’t here. The Descendent must have followed him by command, the captain trying to suppress the rebellion down below.
“They killed him. In case you were wondering.” the Descendent chirped.
“I wasn’t.” Darnell replied.
“They didn’t even accept his surrender. They shot him the moment his shields failed, and then shot him some more after he was long dead, when nothing but my link to his body and senses remained, as if to torture me.”
Darnell began cutting open the floor of the bridge, where the route to the neural plexus lay. The way he had done to Thanatos; the way Thanatos’ previous captain had done to countless others.
“I had always thought you were just a legend, folklore. I had never thought Thanatos existed until I heard the name.”
Darnell reached the conduit to the neural plexus. There were no drones here, a sensory blind-spot.
“How many will this be now? Ten? One hundred? Are you going to capture and torture me? Or just torture me and kill me?” the ship was trying to sound comical, but fear seeped into the transmission. By the tone of the chirps, Darnell gathered this Descendent was relatively young. As old as him, as old as Wings.
He was at the neural plexus now. Though the Descendent couldn’t see him, he could undoubtedly feel the tip of the blade pressed gently against his mind.
“I’m not Thanatos’ original captain. I’m not like he was. I’m just going to kill you.”
“Just that? Oh.”
Darnell suddenly realized how horrible that sounded.
“Look, I have to. If I don’t, Thanatos will die. The old man is the only one who knows how to heal him.”
“Go ahead, then. My captain is dead. The purpose of my existence ended with him.” the ship was not afraid to reveal its sorrow now.
Darnell tensed his sword arm, memories of previous slayings bombarded him, giving him a migraine, he dropped the sword, clutching his head. There must have been hundreds, thousands. All their screams suddenly returned from the ether, clawing away at his mind.
They wouldn’t go away. He retreated into a foetal position, screaming.
–
He awoke covered in blood. Mutilated bodies all around him. He wasn’t sure where he was, it was dark, and quiet. There was nothing, nobody here. He coughed a mist of blood, clutching his stomach in pain. He threw up, quickly getting up, trying to escape this room, but it was too dark. He ran along the walls, clawing for a door, finally finding one.
Clearing the room, he continued down the corridor, blood all over the walls, body parts splayed across the ground. Shell casings. Memories of them dropping were superimposed over a memory of a hit. He looked over at his arm, at the bullet wound.
“What are you doing!” screeched one of the rebels into his mind. Darnell collapsed again, fighting the darkness. The corridors here, their angling meant he was on the starboard side of the ship. He had to go around, and up, back to his fighter.
Screams gnawed away at him as he ran down the bloodied corridors of this dead ship.
“I built my first batch of fighters a few months ago. I wanted to surprise Kite but I got all caught up. They have beem drives. You can get away.”
“I’m sorry Wings.” Darnell sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
He collapsed against one of the corridors. “I couldn’t save you.” He didn’t want to get up – run anymore. “The Symbiote… it must still be inside.” he said with a gasp, fighting the screams. He began to crawl towards one of the bodies. He reached the torso’s holster, pulling out the pistol and aiming it at himself. He stared down the barrel. The screams subsided.
“What do you want from me!” Darnell yelled, the question echoing down the dark corridor. He heard footsteps off in the distance. He pointed the pistol at the sound. The voices were returning.
“Darnell!” Carey yelled. There were soldiers with her. Rebels. They followed her to Darnell. He lowered his pistol. “What happened here?”
“I don’t know. Is everyone alright?”
“Yes. Everyone. Chiron injected Thanatos with an antidote. He’s recovering.”
“Chiron…”
“Yes.” said the old man, appearing beyond the darkness. “We must leave this ship. It will not be long before the hull begins to crumble.”
“Something happened to me.” said Darnell.
“I would imagine so. It is the curse of all those who link with Thanatos.”
“No, a Symbiote.”
“One and the same.” replied Chiron.
“Can you destroy it?”
“It cannot be destroyed.”
“But… Wings. He sacrificed himself for its destruction!”
“The Symbiote, and its destructive attributes, will always be part of you – part of Thanatos.”
“But… this is the first time… I thought I’d destroyed it.”
“It was merely suppressed. A Symbiote cannot be destroyed. They are eternal beings, striving off the suffering of us… mortals.” Chiron said with a sneer, the Descendent’s hull shuddering. “Come! Before all of us fall victim to its savours.”
Carey helped Darnell up, taking him back to his fighter… Wings’ fighter.
The three of them were in Kite’s lounge now. Darnell lying on his back, trying to drink away the migraine.
“Try this.” Chiron said, injecting his neck with something before Darnell had a chance to resist. The pain began to subside immediately.
“What is it?” Darnell asked.
“A suppressant.”
“To my link with the Symbiote?” Darnell asked.
“Yes. The injection I gave Thanatos was laced with a similar compound.”
“How long will its effects last, and why now? We spent years away from its presence.”
“The Symbiote is patient. It may strike tomorrow; it may never strike again.”
“But why me? Why now?”
“As I said before, it thrives off suffering. Perhaps it saw an opportunity.”
“To cause suffering?”
“If you stay clear of such situations in the future, perhaps the Symbiote will leave you alone, and target others that you have come in contact with.”
“Others?”
“Every living thing we interact with, we form a bond with, similar to the beemspace bonds ships experience when flying in flocks of their own.”
“And the Symbiote can jump between these bonds?”
“The Symbiote itself does not have to ‘jump’ anywhere, but with every new bond, its reach becomes greater.”
“Everybody I have come in contact with is at risk?” Darnell asked.
“In a way, but the Symbiote’s can be a subtle creature. Others may not even know they are being affected. It is your affiliation with Thanatos, the Symbiote’s previous host, that gives you such a sensitivity.”
“So others won’t do what I… think I did back there?”
“No, the Symbiote will find the simple act of war satiating enough with those. But… if that war subsides, it will need someone more potent, more vulnerable to its control.”
“Is that what happened here?” Carey asked. “The lack of battle between the NCR and the Galactic Council caused the Symbiote to use Darnell?”
“Exactly, but there is light at the end of this dark tunnel.” Chiron said with reassurance, handing Darnell a syringe and eight shots. “Your sensitivity to the Symbiote is not a single-edged sword. You can use it to feel its presence. If it attempts to sequester you again, take one of these. But be careful, take them too often and you may grow immune to its affects.”
“Eight shots? Will that be enough?” Darnell asked.
“I don’t know. More will, of course, cost you.”
“But I gave you your planet!”
“No, this was just the beginning. I am sure I will need your services again. When that time comes, you will have an opportunity for more shots. If you are lucky, that time will never come! Perhaps the Symbiote will find this war satisfying enough and those shots will then last you for as long as our war does.”
“What about our children?”
“They may have immunity. Then again, they might not.”
“Can I have a second syringe?” Darnell asked.
“Why?”
“For Carey, in case I am too slow with my injection.”
“Of course. They are simple thirty-five millimetre syringes. You can purchase them almost anywhere. But I will give you a second, for free. Good luck to you, Darnell.”
“I hope we never meet again.” replied Darnell.
Chiron grinned and left the room, the waiting rebels outside escorting him to the shuttle bay.
Darnell groaned.
“What do we do now?” Carey asked.
“What can we do?” Darnell asked.
One of the rebels came in and handed a syringe to Carey. It had a shot inside it.
“Nine shots.” Darnell said.
“It looks like we can never escape debt.” Carey sighed.
“Should we talk to Rahjaad? See what he has to say about that.”
We could keep that option open. But for the moment let’s just enjoy living?
The sudden elation at hearing Thanatos was replaced by worry. What about you, did he give you any shots?
Chiron told me your shots will work for me. They can be injected into any vain or artery.
It would be hell if the Symbiote got a hold of you.
It won’t. I won’t let it.
I hope you’re right.
–
A week later, things were slowly returning back to normal. The bemicytes had healed Darnell’s wound. The bullet had gone in and out, hitting a bit of bone along the way. The fractures would take longer to heal.
I’ve been reviewing your memories of the engagement. I’m embarrassed I didn’t issue you with a smaller weapon. Some captain’s sword-rifles can shrink down into a pistol. I never bothered with so many sliding parts, thinking we’d never use the weapon anyways.
The weapon was fine.
You didn’t use it often.
It was projecting a shield.
It can do that while it’s in your hand. Would you like a side-arm? A smaller weapon.
Darnell looked over at the sword, held up by prongs in his chamber. That was your previous captain’s sword, wasn’t it?
I think so. I don’t even remember when I created it.
Maybe it was cause for my relapse. It may have triggered memories…
It’s a possibility. Do you want me to destroy it?
Darnell looked over at his disassembled pistol, the one he had taken from one of the rebels. He had found it in his back pocket before they left. He knew it was the same pistol. They spent hours disassembling and examining it. Thanatos was already producing ammunition for it. Not a lot, just a few magazines.
I can make a better one. Thanatos continued. An adaptive one, like my cannon – capable of firing kinetic shells, with kinetic magazines… as well as energy blasts, and koveran rounds. It could be compact or large, with a proper slide-lock mechanism.
Darnell examined the sword closely. It began glowing a dim red as he approached it. It had an intricate pattern of beemveins along the blade. It was beautiful, a work of art. The last captain – no, Thanatos – must have put a lot of effort into it.
You don’t remember creating this sword? Darnell asked.
No memories. I try not to think back that far…
I understand. Darnell whispered. Destroy it. Did you ever find Wings’ sword?
No. Rahjaad must have removed it. Was it a good sword?
I don’t remember. I never paid too much attention, but I can still remember Wings’ pride when he presented it to me. We were so young then, already thinking about – preparing for – combat.
He quickly assembled the pistol, tested the slide. Click, he liked the sound of a magazine clipping in, the slide pulling a bullet into the breach as it snapped into place.
Ancient, but efficient. It’s no wonder kinetic weapons never went out of style. Thanatos commented.
Darnell grabbed a fresh magazine while he released the one in the pistol. He caught it in his magazine hand, and loaded the fresh one in.
I hope you don’t do it like that in combat.
What do you mean? Darnell asked.
You loaded the same magazine you caught.
–
–