Star Runners: Dark Space

Chapter 18

18

The green and blue world of Stillwater Berg took up the entire viewport as Josh walked onto the bridge. With the swirls of clouds and emerald continents split by an ocean, the planet didn't look much different than Earth. He wondered how many worlds out there existed in the dark like his home without the means to explore the cosmos. How many countless human beings, offspring from the initial colony ships launched centuries before for forgotten reasons, gazed into the heavens as he and his parents did during his childhood.

Glancing at Foster sitting at the Shadow's controls, Josh remembered the man's words about the Empire eventually swallowing all the planets in its path. Did Earth share such a fate, if not now, in the distant future?

"Running a scan," Matta said from the comm station, pressing a headset closer to her night-black hair. "Preliminary reports are showing zero waves of any kind emitting from the planet. Is that even possible?"

Foster grumbled, staring into the planetary atmosphere as the Shadow approached on low power. "It's about what I expected," he said, wiping his eyes. “You got that jammer on?”

Matta nodded and held the bulky watch over her head. “It’s heavy, though.”

“Keep it on,” Foster said. “That might be the only thing keeping the Pisceans off our trail out here.”

She smiled, focusing on her screen. Matta seemed so happy when she discovered the incident at Ilman City might not have been her fault, but regressed when she realized the compromised frequency on her implant meant Waylon and his companions must have given up the information. Josh had calmed her, saying Rodon could have deciphered the frequency by studying any signal coming off the Barracudas. The hypothesis was enough to shift her attention to landing on Stillwater Berg, but Josh quietly shared her doubts about Waylon’s fate.

"I need you to run a scan on the following coordinates,” Foster said, cutting through Josh’s thoughts. “Sending them to your station now."

Matta nodded, her fingers flying across the holographic keys on the obsidian glass. "Feeding coordinates into the system. What exactly am I looking for?"

"Look for a winding river coming out of the mountain range. There should be a settlement at the first bend in the river."

"I got you." Matta paused, peering into the holographic image of the planet floating two feet above her station. "Okay ... I see a collection of shacks ... possibly some rudimentary cultivation of the land. Nothing more than that. Is this really what you're looking for?"

Foster nodded. "Let's hope it is. Otherwise, we've just come a long way for nothing."

Taking control from the automatic pilot that had settled the vessel into high orbit, Foster coaxed more power into the engines and shields. Soon, the protective barrier of the Stillwater Berg atmosphere battled against their ship. The inside of the bridge rattled, the glass trembling around them as if the Shadow would shatter into a thousand pieces. The temperature was rising. Josh brought his index finger to his forehead and wiped droplets of sweat forming.

"Getting hot in here," he said, placing his hands on the arms of his seat adjacent to the captain's chair. "You want to ease off on your approach angle?"

With his back rigid and face wrinkled in concentration, Foster leaned over the controls and peered into the fire glowing around the ship.

"Can't be helped," he muttered. "We’re coming down in daylight, and we don't have time to wait for nightfall. I don't want to attract any more attention or create a panic down there with the indigenous population. We need to do this thing fast." He shot a glance at Josh. "Thought you were supposed to be a fighter pilot?"

"I am. I just don't fancy being a dead one."

Smirking, Foster continued piloting into the atmosphere.

Minutes passed, the temperature rising inside the rumbling vessel. Ever since the incident back on Ilman City, Matta had been trying to play it cool and collected, maintaining her silence throughout the past nine and half hours of their journey. But now she sat at the edge of her seat, her eyes darting from the viewport to her navigational station and back again. Raging flames intensified around the ship, filling the bridge with burning orange light as if they were in the center of a furnace.

As soon as it had begun, the flames subsided, replaced by cotton clouds and crystal blue skies.

"I'm going to use that storm front for cover," Foster said, "see if I can bring us in behind the mountain range and set us down real quiet like."

"And then what?" Josh asked. "Is this amazing navigational wizard just going to materialize out of the forest?"

Foster ignored him, concentrating on landing. The vessel bounced through turbulence, the clouds transitioning from white to a swirling gray. Lightning flashed followed instantly by rumbling thunder.

"Oh!" Matta shouted, clutching her console as if her life depended on it. She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, "Fate be good. Fate be good. Fate be good."

Josh wanted to hurry across the bridge, see if he could calm her, but the ship bounced violently. "It'll be all right!" he shouted instead, hoping to provide her some sense of comfort he didn't feel. He leaned toward Foster. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Of course," he said without strain in his voice.

The storm clouds broke, revealing sheets of rain slamming into the forest below. The engines strained, fighting back against fierce wind gusts blasting against them. Foster brought them to treetop level and slowed their descent.

Craning his neck for a better view of the trees below, Foster thrust his index finger toward the viewport.

"How close are we?" he asked. "Looks like we have a clearing up ahead near that pond.”

Matta sat up straight, shaking her head as she regained composure. "Just under two MUs to the settlement.”

“Close enough to walk," Foster said, closing down the main engines and using the parking thrusters to hover over the clearing. He started lowering the ship, keying for the landing skids to deploy. The ship's engines flattened the grass next to the water, sending waves of wind rippling through the green and yellow shrubs.

The Shadow settled onto the ground, rain pooling on the viewport as lightning flashed in the dark gray sky. Foster's hands flew across the glass console, shutting down the primary systems. The engines groaned, winding down until just a dull moan emitted from the back of the ship. Unlocking his harness, he stood and exhaled.

"Time to depart!" he barked, using a rag from his pocket to wipe his face. He pointed at Matta. "I want you to stay here for this one."

Her jaw dropped. "Is this cause of last time? Because if it is—"

"It isn't," Foster barked, casting a wayward eye on Josh. "There's a good chance we might not receive an entirely warm welcome. If that happens, I want you to take my ship back to Ragal's End and do what you can to make a life for yourself."

Matta's face reddened, her glistening eyes falling onto Josh and back on Foster as she tilted her head. "Am I hearing you correctly? Are you in danger of caring about me?"

Foster brushed off his shirt. "Don't let it go to your head. This ship’s too valuable to sit here and rot on a dark world like this."

She looked at Josh. "You guys just make sure you come back."

Josh looked at Foster. "How long's it been since you've seen this navigator of yours?"

"A long time. And you can stow the sarcasm right here. If Orvin's here and he agrees to come with us, this trip’s going to be worth the effort. Trust me."

Leaning back, Foster looked into the sky outside the viewport. "Looks like the storm’s lessening. Let's get moving."

Foster leaned against a tree amidst thick, lingering haze following another drenching rain soaking through to the bone. Josh had seen the man well armed before, back at Sanctum in particular. But the array of weaponry Foster carried upon debarking from the Shadow was impressive.

Two suppressed mag round pistols sat snug against his thighs, secured with leg rig holsters. Additional mag round guns suspended from a double shoulder holster and a long sheathed knife pressed against his back. Extra clips for his projectile weapons swung from his belt.

In comparison, Josh carried his laser pistol, wondering what Foster knew about this stranger they were about to encounter. As usual, Foster provided little detail about Orvin Wolhaim or his previous acquaintance with the so-called talented navigator. But if the talents of a hermit were what allowed him to reunite with Waylon and the rest of the Barracudas as well as get information to help Austin, then he was happy to do what was needed.

They walked until the gray skies turned to ash, and daylight started to fade. For most of the journey, they traversed a rough mountain landscape, hopping over fallen trees as well as alien vines sporting dozens of mammoth Venus fly traps opening and closing as they passed. The enduring mist permeated everything, soaking the landscape in a cold blanket of precipitation.

Foster produced a canteen, took a long, deep drink. Pressing a compact pair of binoculars to his eyes, he surveyed the valley below. Off to their left, the winding river they’d seen from above flowed with a rumble echoing through the forest. A birdcall ripped through the treetops, followed by the whooshing sound of an entire flock sweeping unseen into the clouds.

"What are you seeing?" Josh whispered, coming to a stop on Foster's right. "Would you know Orvin if you see him?"

To Josh's surprise, Foster smiled.

Annoyed, he asked, "Something funny?"

"No, not really," Foster said, the expressionless and hollow stare returning to his face. "The last time I saw the man, he had an artificial leg and even with the assistance of technology was only half my height."

"Really?"

"Don't let that fool you, though. Orvin can handle himself." He took a deep breath. "Let’s hope we get a chance to speak with him before he tries to kill us."

The last sentence about his former comrade sent a shiver down Josh's back. His voice always remained monotone no matter the occasion or circumstance, eyes always dead set, expressionless and muted. The prospect of meeting another man like Foster gave him considerable doubt about continuing on this journey.

Foster collapsed the canteen. "Come on," he said, tucking the slender binoculars into his chest pocket, "I'd like to see if we could get there before nightfall. If I know Orvin, he's the kind of man that doesn't like his evening meals disturbed."

"That hasn't changed."

Josh's heart froze as he spun around, searching for the source of the voice. He turned just in time to see a cloaked figure materialize from the mist.

Electricity surged through his body, his muscles tingling, burning, and refusing to obey his commands. Staggering back, he fell onto the forest floor, his legs twitching. His arm shook as he tried to grab his holstered pistol.

A blue laser bolt shot into Foster, electrified fingers wrapping around his torso. His back arched as he writhed in pain. He collided with a tree and slid down.

A short, stocky man, the shimmering energy of a personal shroud still dissipating around his body, stepped through the waist-high plant life and pointed a long rifle with a round bowl on the shaft toward them. A full unkempt beard extended from his broad face like a bird's nest. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat like something from an old Western complete with a heavy trench coat. A wicked double barrel shotgun swayed from his belt beside a sheathed machete. His black eyes bypassed Josh and focused on Foster.

"Did you really think I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the thunder rolling on my mountain and a ship coming through the atmosphere?" The man breathed, his voice slithering and low. "Always knew you'd come back someday, Robert. Here to tie up loose ends, are you?"

"I ... need your—your help, Orvin," Foster said through his teeth, electricity surging through his body. "That's all."

"And you expect me to believe that?" Orvin glanced at Josh. "You bring backup to the place I call home and expect me to believe you're here asking for help?" He spat, droplets striking Foster’s face. "Curse you and your jobs. You stole my cut and have the nerve to come back here? Why? Is it because I know who you really are? Is it because I knew you before you became the legend? Is it too dangerous to let me live?” He pulled the shotgun from his belt and pumped it. "I wish I'd never met you. But at least I'll sleep better tonight knowing you’re no more."

Shaking his head, Josh tried to speak. His teeth chattered, his muscles twitching. "He—he … is telling the truth. We need your help."

"Quiet!" he snarled, turning back to Foster and squinting. "The people living here are simple, honorable. What could you possibly offer me to consider leaving?"

Touching a silver medallion at his belt, Orvin released the energy bindings containing Foster against the tree.

Hunching over and coughing violently, Foster caught his breath.

"Dark Space," he gasped, still struggling to catch his breath. He raised his head, looking Orvin in the eyes. "I know it's the one challenge you were never able to complete.”

Orvin stared at him, uncertainty on his face as he lowered the shotgun. "So?"

Foster grunted as he made his way to his feet. "What if I told you I have the means to get there?"

"Impossible," he breathed. "I joined the expedition out of Ragal's End when I was just a boy. They lured me with tales of riches and exotic spices from Dark Space. I listened to all the potential adventures we were going to have, and it was all for nothing. The technology doesn't exist to get there, and the conmen peddling these outrageous promises took my family's money and disappeared. No amount of lies can change that fact."

Foster smiled. "What if I said you were wrong?"

"I'd say you were lying. I'd say you were trying to lull me into a false sense of security to get the upper hand."

Shaking his head, Foster said, "I want you to think about this for a moment. Why would I come all the way out here just to execute you? Makes no sense." He took a step forward. "Please, old friend, come with me. I promise you won't regret it. I promise you'll be able to see things you've only dreamed of."

Looking at Josh, Foster nodded.

"It's true," Josh said, taking the cue. "We’ve found the location of a ship that theoretically might be able to make the journey. He's telling the truth."

"Let's say I believe you." Orvin chewed on his bottom lip and cast a suspicious stare at Foster. "Where is this alleged ship capable of making it to the Dark?"

Foster placed his hands on his hips. "The Shoborians created a drive capable of making the journey."

"Oh, please,” Orvin said, shaking his head. "You're talking about the Jarna. I've read all about this report. I've studied everything there is to know about that expedition. Deidra Kowal's drive made it to Osiris. They made a transmission from Dark Space—the only known human vessel to do so since Banekell Don’s—and we know how that turned out. And then the Jarna disappeared."

Turning toward the dense forest, Orvin shook his head. "There are some forces in nature man was not meant to harness, Robert."

"I know where it is," Foster said. “It's on a quarantined Zahlian world, Orvin. Imagine it! The ability to traverse Dark Space and be the first explorer to do so. You've told me a dozen times about how your father died believing he’d wasted his life in pursuit of exploring Dark Space. Now, you can make his sacrifices worthwhile."

“That’s low even for you, Robert.”

But Orvin didn’t sound convinced.

At that moment, Josh realized why Foster had insisted on coming to this world so far from normal space lanes. Orvin might be a talented navigator, sure, but Foster also had the leverage of knowing the man's family history. Apparently discovering the pathway to Dark Space had driven Orvin's father mad. Now, it was that failure Foster was here to exploit.

As he watched the navigator mentally weigh his options, Josh could tell by the look on his face what the man would decide.

Orvin tucked the shotgun back into its loop on his belt. "Very well, Robert. I'll come with you."