Wanderer - Tainted Universe

Chapter 7-1

Chapter 7

“What happened to unloading directly to the base?” Jess asked Dash.

Dash paused for a moment, then let out a deep breath. What should he say? How much should he tell them?

“Knuckles knows the situation better than I do. I haven’t visited in several years, remember. If he says unloading directly to other ships is the best option, then it’s the best option.”

“What about the base? Are we in any danger?”

“I don’t think so,” Dash lied. “I trust Knuckles with my life. He saved it on several occasions. We go right back. If something was wrong, he’d find a way to let me know.”

“If he’s such a good friend, why did you turn down his offer to go see him?”

Jess was clearly suspicious. Dash decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. It was always best when lying. Making it too complicated was always a recipe for tripping up on the details.

“My conscience. It’s still likely some of the prisoners won’t survive. I want to know I’d done everything I could for them. I can’t sit around drinking beer knowing people could be dying.”

“Strange attitude for a pirate chief.”

Dash shrugged. “You know my story. That wasn’t what I set out to be. I was just trying to keep my people safe. That led me to become what I became.”

“All right. We know we can trust you.” Jess’s tone gave the lie to his words. “What about the ships the people we freed end up on? How do we know they won’t be sold straight back into slavery?”

Dash sighed deeply, suddenly feeling very old. Had he ever been this idealistic? That caused him to chuckle. Of course he had.

“What’s so funny?” Jess asked, scowling.

“Sorry. I was laughing at me, not you. Remembering how I was when I was your age. I’d have been standing right next to you in those days, lending you my support. The years wear you down.

“How do you know you can trust them? You don’t know. Even I don’t. But every one of them is here because they’ve shown themselves to be trustworthy and, more importantly, to have strong ethics. Those aren’t great in a pirate organisation, as I’m sure you’d be quick to point out.”

Dash couldn’t resist making the barb. Jess didn’t rise to it, so Dash continued, glad to be on a subject where he could be completely honest.

“That made it easy to shift them out to roles on the periphery of the organisation, and in time to rotating them through this base. So I think they’ll do the right thing, especially with us asking them to, but I can’t guarantee it. If I’m honest it’s likely at least a few will end up as slaves again.

“What alternative do you have? Send a robot onto every ship? Follow them to their destination? Watch over the resettlement of everyone you’ve freed? You can’t do that. They’ll need to go to many different systems. This ship is amazing, Jess. You’ve achieved incredible things with it. But you have to learn there are still limits. If you don’t then you’ll tear yourself apart.”

Frustration radiated off Jess. “There must be something we can do. If not, then we’ll take them on board the Wanderer.”

“For how long?” Dash asked. “Things are crowded on the main decks as it is. The people down there are just glad to be free right now, but soon enough they’ll get restless. If you try to squeeze four times as many people into that space they’ll revolt in no time at all.”

Jess opened his mouth to argue, but couldn’t find the words. Ali put her hand on his arm.

“Jess, Dash is right. I know you feel responsible for them, for all of them, but we’ve done what we can. We’re giving them the best chance we can, especially compared to what they were going to. Elizabeth found the details on the Steady Light’s computers. They were facing certain and agonising death cleaning up a radiation leak. You’ve given them back their lives.”

Jess smacked a hand onto his thigh in frustration.

“Damn it! We should be able to do more!”

“Jess, I understand,” Dash said. His quiet and earnest tone got Jess’s attention. “I stood where you are now, many years ago. I didn’t have a ship like the Wanderer but the one I had was pretty good, and I had my men behind me. Highly trained soldiers. We’d seen what the Empire really stood for and wanted to fight against that.

“It started well, but before long I reached the point you have. I realised that whatever I did would only be a splash in the ocean, that almost everyone I saved would have to be left to take their chances again.

“I decided I needed more strength, more power, and I set out to get it. I succeeded, too. It just made the scale of the problem bigger. Now I could save a few hundred, or even a few thousand, and ensure they stayed safe but I saw tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, who needed to be saved. So I sought more power.

“And for each bit of power I gained I sacrificed something. Sometimes my principles. Sometimes a small part of my ability to act as I chose. Sometimes the life of someone I cared about, sending them on a mission I would never have sanctioned when I first started out.

“I know you don’t trust me fully, Jess, but please believe me on this. You stand at a crossroads. Don’t take the path I did. Accept that you have limits.”

“I should just give up? Not try?” Jess spat back angrily.

“No! Not at all. You need to understand the limits, then keep pushing them as hard as you damn well can. More often than not you’ll gain ground, and those times will make you feel good. Great. But if you try to fix everything then you will only ever find bitterness.”

Jess didn’t reject the advice immediately. He sat, anger on his face but considering what Dash had said. Dash was impressed. Once again he was struck by how mature Jess could be at times. Thinking back to how his younger self would have reacted to such advice Dash nearly laughed again, stifling it with a cough. He’d probably have punched whoever offered the advice.

Jess abruptly stood. He muttered something about needing a few minutes then stamped off towards the flight deck. Ali started to follow him then stopped, face stricken. Worried about the young man she loved but uncertain what to do.

“Leave him, Ali,” Sal said quietly. “Roberto is right. Jess needs some time to come to terms with that. He’s angry right now. Angry and frustrated. If you go in there he might turn that anger on you. Give him a chance to calm down.”

Dash felt a warm glow at Sal’s words. Despite everything, she still called him Roberto. It was how she’d first known him. Very few people used his first name any more. Sal using it gave him hope their friendship might survive all he’d thrown at it.

“It’s so hard,” Ali replied. “I know how important this is to Jess, and I care about the people we rescued too, but I can’t feel it in the way Jess does. And you too, Sal. I’ve never been a slave. I hear you and Jess tell us about it, but it isn’t the same as having lived it.”

“Jess knows that. You try, that’s what matters. Sometimes… well, sometimes the memories are just overwhelming. So is the ability to do things, to make a difference. That’s new to us. Making choices. Deciding our own fate, let alone other peoples. Sometimes I just feel like curling up in a ball. Shutting everything out.

“Jess must feel that way too, but he knows he can’t do it. He’s the captain of the Wanderer. He has to stay focused, stay strong. That’s tough. I don’t know how he manages as well as he does, though I’m sure a lot of it’s down to you. You make him happy.”

Ali blushed at that. “How are… how about a drink?”

The hesitation was almost too short to notice. So was the way Ali’s eyes glanced at Dash before she changed the subject. Dash caught both, though. He was certain Ali was going to ask how Sal was doing, then she’d changed her mind when she remembered Dash was there. But was that because she thought Sal had feelings for Dash? He didn’t know. There were too many other possibilities.

Still, maybe it was. And maybe Sal did have feelings for him. His eyes followed Sal as she and Ali fetched drinks, and he felt a tug on his heart at the thought of leaving the Wanderer. Leaving Sal. He realised he had to say something to Sal soon, or risk regretting the missed opportunity for the rest of his life.