The First Covenant (Dark Universe Series Book 2) Page 12

  “She can’t work miracles,” Ramya said. The last patch completed, she squirmed out from under the control station.

  Fenny rolled her eyes. “I dare you, Rami, to tell that to Sosa’s face.”

  Ramya sighed. That was a good dare that Ramya doubted she’d take Fenny up on. Sosa was a regal, even though totally obstinate, personality. She looked nice, spoke like a royal, but everyone who knew her thought a few times before entangling her in a debate.

  Looking at Ramya’s hesitant expression, Fenny chuckled loudly. “Told ya. Even the captain has stayed away. He said it’s going to take her time to get over the pilot’s death.”

  “Oh well. I’m just glad she’s alive. That you’re all alive,” Ramya said. “I was scared to death thinking about what might’ve happened to you all.”

  Fenny had heard about everything Ramya and Ross had encountered on the way, and she nodded in an understanding sort of way. “We were pretty badly hit by cannon fire at Totori, but Flux managed to put some emergency patches on the hull. That kept the ship together, enough to get us here. The main trouble we had was with the pilot dying and Sosa getting all upset. And then we couldn’t get out of the ship. It was like something had locked us in and none of the iffin hatches would budge.”

  That had to be Temihula’s handiwork, Ramya deduced. The forest spirit had somehow locked the crew in.

  “Anyway, all’s good now. We’re alive and well and we’ll soon get out of here. No need to worry,” Fenny said. Even though Ramya accepted the spirit of Fenny’s words, she couldn’t agree fully. There was still plenty to worry about, starting with the presence of the Glasspointe.

  The sound of running feet came from outside and both Ramya and Fenny snapped toward the door. A gray head with glittering eyes peeked through it momentarily.

  “Ahool, what’s going on?” Ramya asked, recognizing the young Mwandan.

  “Your captain asks you come,” Ahool blurted. “Right away, he says.”

  Fenny raised an eyebrow at Ramya. “I have stuff to work on here. You go.”

  “Both need come,” Ahool declared firmly. Another Mwandan—a female Ramya did not know—marched into the COM with a large toolbox in hand. She also had a deep brown coloring like Chief Dal, only her stripes were more gray than black.

  “What the hell?” Fenny muttered. “Who’re you?” she demanded of the new Mwandan.

  “I’m Chief Dal’s engineer,” the Mwandan replied curtly. “Here to assist.”

  “Merin help with repairs,” Ahool explained quickly. “You come to Captain.”

  Fenny handed Merin the list of pending repairs and followed Ramya out of the COM, throwing a fiery glare behind her and still muttering to herself. “I don’t like random strangers twiddling with my equipment.”

  “Captain’s orders, Fenny,” Ramya reminded.

  The reminder didn’t stop Fenny’s grumbling. “I’m thinking Sosa’s right. The captain might’ve had a concussion after all.”

  Ramya held her tongue as they dashed down the corridor. The Endeavor’s crew had been through hell. It was a miracle that they survived the Drednot attack and then even with the patched-up hull, managed to land in one piece on Morris II. They were all pushed to the edge and behaving weirdly, concussion or no concussion.

  Quite a few people were already in the captain’s room when Ramya and Fenny reached it. The captain was seated in his favorite chair. Ross stood, cross-armed and frowning, leaning against the wall behind him. The Berkari chief sat in a chair across from the captain and another Mwandan—a female—sat in the chair flanking his. Ramya recalled seeing her briefly when she arrived with the engineers Chief Dal had summoned. A meeting was still in progress and Ramya, Fenny, and Ahool slinked inside and filed along the wall.

  “Are you sure we’ll have Mwandan support, Chief?” the captain asked.

  Chief Dal gave him a thoughtful nod. “I can’t assure you support of the Mwandan government, Captain. But from the report I received from Chief Mifek on Bucifer P9 and from what I’ve heard from you, it’s easy to put the two and two together. I’m more than convinced about a new Locustan threat. We can’t have another invasion, Captain Milos. The Berkari is willing do whatever it takes to help stop it. The Locustans can’t be allowed to breach Anomaly Point again; there are no two ways about that.”

  Chief Dal extended his arms toward the captain, his palms open and spread upward. “On behalf of the Berkari on this planet, I pledge loyalty and life,” he said. The way he said those words made Ramya shudder. A hush fell in the room, and Ramya could feel the taut anxiety rippling across. Every face was carved from stone, all eyes narrowed to slits. The captain extended his arms in the same way as Chief Dal until the tips of their fingers touched.

  “May our covenant be blessed and may our mission fare well,” the captain said, saying aloud ceremonial words that had been used for centuries to forge alliances in the galaxy.

  A deal had been sealed. Stillness lingered a few more seconds until both the captain and Chief Dal drew their arms away.

  “I will meet with Chief Mifek,” the captain said. “But unfortunately, that won’t be enough. To defend Anomaly Point we need space fighters. And right now—”

  The female Mwandan who had been listening quietly until now rose to her feet. “I’ll try to convince the Mwandan government, Captain Milos. And perhaps they can be prevailed on to speak to the Confederacy. Perhaps sway them. These reports of vanishing colonies in the Fringe are as real as you or me, and they need to be made to understand that.”

  The captain nodded again, rubbing his bandaged head tenderly as if it hurt. “Before it’s too late.”

  “Yes, before it’s too late,” Chief Dal repeated.

  The captain tapped his chin, muttering thoughtfully. “I’m hoping Chief Mifek will point us to some sort of evidence of Locustan activity in the Fringe. If we can gather such evidence and show that to the Confederate Space Command . . . They have ignored my words and they’ll never take the AI’s words seriously, but they might not be able to shrug off recorded proof.” He stopped, and flashed a sharp look at Ross. “We need to hurry and get to Mifek.”

  Dal rose to his feet. “We will start persuading our government, Captain. Maybe the two-pronged approach to prevail on the Confederacy will work. Before I leave, some of my people have volunteered to join you on the Endeavor, Captain. If you’ll have them.”

  Next to Ramya, Fenny grunted. She clearly didn’t like the prospect of Mwandan newcomers.

  “I’d be honored, Chief. Some more hands will definitely help,” Captain Milos replied. Fenny let out a long huffy breath. Ramya kept her face straight with a lot of effort. It was going to be interesting aboard the Endeavor.

  Next to them Ahool twitched for a second and then scooted forward. “Chief,” he said, bowing quickly at the Berkari chief. “May I be permitted to join Endeavor? Please?”

  The Berkari chief frowned immediately. Ahool shriveled a little at his withering look, but held his gaze nonetheless.

  “Ahool Petta, this is not the time to discuss—”

  “I completed last mission honorably, Chief,” Ahool interrupted. “I meet with Ross and Rami first. This mission happens because of me. I want to participate. Please allow, Chief.”

  “He’s an iffin kid,” Fenny muttered under her breath. “Can’t even speak his words right.” Ramya stole a glance at Fenny, whose nose had scrunched up.

  “He’s plenty brave though,” Ramya said. Ahool was indeed young, evident from the faded stripes on his neck and the mildly pampering way the chief and his men spoke to him. But it was no lie that Ahool had not only escaped prison himself but also aided Ross and her in their own search for the Endeavor. Ahool was right. This alliance to thwart the Locustans had happened because of him. Without him, Ross and Ramya would’ve been dead . . . killed by Temihula and the likes.

  “You’re far too young, Ahool Petta,” the chief said in a steely voice. “Approving your first mission was a mistake and I can
not let you go on another. There’s plenty of work to be done here. You can still help.”

  Ahool threw a beseeching look at Ramya and then at Ross. Ramya could see the yearning in those red eyes—they were pleading, begging for someone to come to his aid. She badly wanted to help, to take Ahool’s side, but she was also aware of her own position. She was the youngest, newest recruit on the Endeavor. She had hidden her identity and she was sure Ross still hated her for it. Now, in the presence of Captain Milos and Commander Ross, saying a word against the Berkari chief would be a terrible mistake. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the words from spilling out.

  “Let’s go, Ahool Petta,” Chief Dal said. He nodded toward the female Mwandan. “You heard Officer Noko. We have work to do.”

  Ahool spun around to look at her again and Ramya’s fists curled. This was wrong. Ahool deserved better. She couldn’t simply stay quiet and ignore his pleas. The chief could turn her down, but she had to say something.

  “I don’t mean to offend you, Chief,” Ross spoke before she did, taking everyone in the room by surprise. Ramya stiffened; her eyes and ears glued on the commander. “But even though Ahool Petta is young, he’s a remarkable soldier. We would have died without him. The Endeavor would’ve perished. So, if you can spare him, and if Captain Milos would allow it, he’d be a great addition on the Endeavor.”

  Ramya sighed in relief and flashed a grateful look at Ross. He didn’t seem to notice, but Ramya kept thanking him silently for backing Ahool.

  “Great, just great,” Fenny said through gritted teeth. “Now Ross has to poke his long nose into this.”

  Fenny was clearly infuriated but Ramya was happy for Ahool. Given how loyal Ahool was, she was glad to have someone like him on the Endeavor, particularly on a mission as dangerous as this.

  “Well, Chief Dal, I put a lot of faith in my commander’s judgment,” Captain Milos said. “Ahool Petta is welcome aboard my ship. Pending your approval, of course.”

  Ahool fixed his glittery eyes on the chief who looked away with a sigh.

  “I worry because he’s a little young, Captain,” the Berkari chief said after a second’s silence. “Actually, he’s the youngest of the Berkari on this planet. Ahool’s not had his second birthday yet.”

  Fenny scoffed under her breath. “An iffin toddler,” she hissed. “We’re gonna have an iffin toddler on our hands now.”

  Ramya stifled a sigh. Fenny was not handling this well, which was a little weird considering how eager Fenny had been in taking her in. So it wasn’t that Fenny was totally opposed to getting new members. Then what was it? Something to do with Mwandans? Or was she opposed to having so many newcomers at once? Before Ramya could come to a conclusion, Ross spoke.

  “He works very well with Rami. Maybe she could be his mentor. Ahool would be in good hands,” Ross said. Ramya’s eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open in an instant. Did Ross just . . . sort of praise her? What the heck was wrong with the commander?

  Chief Dal looked from Ross to Ramya and then to Ahool. He shrugged and nodded slowly at Captain Milos. “Well then. He’s all yours, Captain.”

  A sound of running feet came from the corridor outside and Flux’s disheveled face peeked through the door. He stiffened a little, seeing the crowd inside.

  “Yes, Flux,” Captain Milos. “You have good news, I hope.”

  Flux flashed a wide grin and nodded vigorously. “The fuel leakage situation is under control, Captain. We’ll need significant repairs soon, but we’re ready to take off now.”

  “How are the communicators?”

  “Near fixed.”

  Captain Milos left his chair and strode forward. “Good. Rami, you’re going to pick up the Stryker. Ahool, can you assist? Chief Dal will drop you off near the ridge.”

  Ramya replied with a sharp nod, but Ahool nodded so vigorously it seemed like his head would fall off. Suppressing a chuckle at Ahool’s enthusiasm, Ramya looked at her watch. It was almost four hours since they’d left the Stryker. Dakrhaeth was close to complete with his repairs. He better be or they’d be in trouble. They had spent a long time on Morris II and somehow, by some stroke of luck, the Confederacy hadn’t showed up yet. But this was pushing it, and at one point or another, luck was sure to run out.

  13

  A WHOLE DAY had passed since the Endeavor left Morris II. Ramya sat in the tiny entryway of the Stryker interviewing Dakrhaeth. She had been at it for two hours straight. She was tired, exhausted rather, both mentally and physically. But Ramya kept at it.

  Her task was critical. The captain needed to find out as much as they could about the Locustans and their history, and Dakrhaeth, being a Locustan combatant in his previous life, was obviously the best source. Progress was slow however. Dakrhaeth’s memory of his life prior to crashing on Kyo-Sedra-5 was foggy at best. But Ramya persisted with as much diligence as she could muster. Tiredness creeped around the edges of her senses though, and every now and then Ramya was completely swept away by it.

  There had been no other incident during the journey out of the Mwandan sanctuary, nothing dramatic in nature. The ship lifted off, mostly thanks to the help from the Berkari engineers. A few of them—Namaan, Azzi, and Merin—along with some other non-engineers had joined the Endeavor’s crew.

  Ramya, along with Ahool, had retrieved the Stryker without trouble. Dakrhaeth had been waiting, repairs completed and anxious about Ramya and Ross. On hearing Ramya’s account, Dakrhaeth made some snide comments about excessive recklessness but thankfully, lack of time cut his lecture short. After a rushed introduction between the AI and Ahool, they were airborne, and not too long afterward, safely docked inside the Endeavor.

  Ramya had slept like a baby through the next twelve hours as the Endeavor cruised toward its destination, the remote space station of Torsus-Mele. They were actually on their way to the Mwandan sanctuary on Bucifer P9 in the inner Fringe from where Chief Mifek had transmitted the news of vanishing colonies in the area. In a normal situation, the Endeavor could’ve done without stopping at the space station, but with the damaged hull and fuel cell leakage issue from the Drednot attack, a refueling and repairing stop at Torsus-Mele—the closest space station to Bucifer—had become a necessity.

  “So, all you remember is being ordered to follow this directive you call the One Path?” Ramya asked Dakrhaeth for the third time in a row. His foggy memories, her tiredness, and the enormous complex mystery that was Anomaly Point, made for an exhausting conversation. “And that path led you to the Fringe?”

  “Yes, Mihaal,” Dakrhaeth replied in a bored voice. “I shall search my memories, but they are distant. I apologize.”

  “But you crashed on KS-5 in Sector 22. How did you get from the Fringe all the way to Sector 22?”

  “I don’t know. There had to be another directive. I cannot recall.”

  Kyo-Sedra-5, and its entire system for that matter, was a barren expanse. There were no settlements, no planets with minerals of any value. Why did a Locustan squadron go there?

  Ramya would’ve asked a few more questions but the light atop her newly-bequeathed wrist-mounted comm unit blinked a bright green. Ramya sat up and pressed the largest button. Wiz’s voice crackled immediately, “Rami? All hands at the med-bay. Come over right now.” Just as abruptly as it had come, his voice clipped and ended.

  Ramya packed up her notepad and took leave of Dakrhaeth.

  “Good luck, Mihaal,” he said, making Ramya frown with his choice of words.

  “Why do you say that?” she couldn’t help asking.

  Dakrhaeth took unusually long to reply. “Just a thought, Mihaal,” he said finally.

  Ramya slowed a little to ponder. That was a strange reply and her gut said there was little truth to it. But she didn’t have time to press Dakrhaeth, so with a casual smile at the orb at the center of the Stryker’s entryway, she climbed out.

  “You can shut down, Dakrhaeth,” she shouted before closing the door.

  The hold was lighted br
ightly, but Ramya’s fingers curled over the blaster at her thigh as she strode across its length. Since the Pterostrich attack she luckily survived, Ramya couldn’t shake the tingly fear off her spine each time she entered the hold. Now, the lone Pterostrich was secure in a large and sturdy cage, but she still wasn’t taking any chances.

  Ramya had crossed halfway when a loud clang made her freeze. Tucking her notepad into a pocket, she pulled the blaster out. Her heart was thudding away in wild frenzy; the cold hand of fear had gripped the base of her spine. Ramya tried to focus on everything but her trembling fingers. She scanned around her slowly, her senses on the alert for the slightest movement, the softest sound. None came.

  Blaster raised, Ramya stepped forward stealthily. She had taken two more steps when the clang, louder this time, sounded again. It almost made her jump. She took a second to compose herself, breathing deeply to ease her panicked mind. She wanted to run. The entrance of the hold was not too far, but if it was the Pterostrich, running would be useless. The bird would catch up in no time and tear her to pieces before she could turn. Then again, maybe it wasn’t the Pterostrich at all. In that case, it would be better to find out what was making the noise. Holding the blaster tighter, Ramya walked in the direction of the sound.

  Five steps down, the noise came again. This time, along with the clang was a low clucking and something else . . . a voice. Was that a human voice?

  Ramya hurried forward, ears holding on to the low whispers. She skirted a few boxes and crossed a large stack of mining equipment. The sounds grew louder as she walked. She had neared the final turn around an enormous screen-like structure the Mwandan engineers had put in place overnight when Ramya finally recognized the voice.

  “Fenny?” she yelled incredulously. The woman was kneeling outside the Pterostrich cage, speaking to the lone chick who sat facing her, its outsized head bowed. At Ramya’s call, Fenny jumped to her feet, as did the chick. “What are you doing?” Ramya asked.