“Get us ready to clear out.” I barked into my com to Fred. Winter looked ashen and swayed on her feet. I all but pushed her down the still, (thank Oberonae and Dantiana,) deserted corridors of the Silver Siren. I dragged her aboard and cycled the lock. Fred sent a hovbed and I pushed Winter onto it, even though she protested. Her complaint was feeble though as she rolled onto her side with a groan. I got her to our small medical bay and let the machines do the diagnostic work. The slice on the abdomen only needed swabbing and anti-bac. The claw marks required sutures. The cut on her face needed both anti-bac and micro sutures. The botdoc started fluids for dehydration, and additional analgesics, as her core temperature was elevated.
How it knew what the core temperature of a Hashtaaleen was, I had no idea. I assumed at some point, Winter must have provided biometric data to Fred’s diagnostic sensors and the bot could use that information for comparison. When I look at Winter, and if I didn’t know her, I would assume she was a taller-than-average human woman. But there are small things about her that make it obvious her biology is different. She has gills for one. They are hardly noticeable but when you look closely at the sides of her throat, you can see the thin red line where her gill slits are visible. She has slight webbing on her fingers, which like the gills, wouldn’t be all that pronounced unless she was in the water, I guess. She has round pupils that tighten down into slits, like those of a feline. She also has a nictitating membrane in her eye and I’m not sure of its function. I can see the pupil response as useful in low-light situations.
I think the scariest thing about her is the fangs. She has a humanoid set of teeth, but she also has a secondary set of canines that extend down over or maybe under, I’ve never gotten a good look at them. Narellian told me once her caste was born half in and half out of the water. Narellian also told me she should give up running around the galaxy and settle down with him, as there were not enough free Hashtaali in the universe.
I can imagine what she thinks of that idea. She tolerates Narellian but I don’t think she likes him much. To me, he’s an insufferable bore, an elitist, and woefully ignorant of anything outside his specialty. He’s lucky I suppose. He’s not a product of the Hashtaaleen ghettos, Finral’s World, and Darbulatan.
The botdoc let Winter out of the infirmary and she staggered onto the bridge. “Are we going somewhere?” She rubbed her nose, and blood stained her fingertips.
“Under the circumstances? I think we should let them deal with it. Now, Ualune sounds like a great idea.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure L’Marchonase could pull it off. Old Bildarthian mines didn’t sound like a lucrative deal to me.
Winter half slid half-collapsed into her navigation couch. “Fred, power down. We aren’t leaving.” She sighed.
“What? Care to explain why?” I put my hands on my hips and stared incredulously at her. “You got the chucksa beaten out of you, they’re dealing with a bunch of greedy idiots as far as I can tell, and frankly, I’ve heard about the Bildarthian tendency to mine the sojoni out of a sector and forget about them…until some unfortunate ship happens to find them.”
Winter raised her eyebrows. “Where have you heard about Bildarthian technology before? I think it is safe to say, you and I have never discussed it.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Around. Ships gossip, stuff like that.” I didn’t want to tell her Darryl and I both knew Winter talked in her sleep. She also sleepwalks which is why Fred has the override command to lock her in her cabin. Darryl didn’t want her to have an episode, sleepwalk to the bridge, and change our course headings in the navicomputer. Not that Fred wouldn’t catch it in time, but she could theoretically program him to ignore any other commands but hers. Darryl wasn’t too enthralled with the idea of flying into a supernova. Fred often translated what Winter said if he understood the dialect, but only Darryl heard that part. She’d tell me if she thought it was interesting enough. Darryl thought BB mines did bear mentioning, although I read enough from my father’s archive on Bildarthian weaponry to know what kind of havoc the weapons would cause with a ship’s systems.
I contemplated killing Darryl myself if I ever met her again at this point. Leaving us in debt was one thing, leaving me to deal with Winter’s eccentricities was unconscionable.
Winter studied me and I resisted the impulse to look at the floor. She narrowed her eyes, and I got the impression she was probing me. Understand the Violeteer do have telepathic and telekinetic abilities, although I’m not adept at either skill. I’ve never heard if the Hashtaaleen had such abilities or not. I think Winter might be good at reading expressions, so I kept my guileless simpleton face on and ducked my head when she finally looked away.
“So, you would cut and run anyway? What if that was your family then?” She wasn’t looking at me, she was studying the navigational display on her console and seemed to be reviewing a star chart.
I wondered how much she already knew about me and if this was a loaded question. I also tried to decide how to answer without her working out I’d been listening in on her conversation with L’Marchonase.
“They aren’t your family. You said so yourself.” I went to my acceleration couch and sat down but didn’t strap in.
“Ah so, Marion Trafalgar regaled you with tales about his ancestor, hasn’t he?” Winter shifted her seat so she could look at me.
I decided the truth would be the wisest course. “He mentioned he and L’Marchonase were cousins, and they were related to the Yeltsin Boudreaux family and the pirate entrepreneur John Trafalgar.”
Winter nodded her head and her expression turned contemplative. “His name was Emerson Boudreaux. He took the name John Trafalgar when he was framed for murder. He was sent to the mines for his crime and was disowned by his family. He was married to Misandre LeBranau who thought he was having an affair with her sister. He wasn’t but she framed him for her murder. Misandre was mentally ill, and it became obvious before it was all over, she was the one who killed her sister. She also tried to kill her three children with Emerson by spacing them. Fortunately, someone had left a suit in the airlock, and all three of them got in it before the lock cycled open. They were saved by their uncle who heard them screaming into the suit’s com. The Boudreaux’s were harsh in disowning Emerson. They forced him into an arranged marriage with a LeBranau as a political move and then because of their embarrassment over the whole murder charge disowned him. Their collective guilt over believing Misandre over their own son is still obvious today. I wonder if it is because of the mess with Misandre or because he made them rich after the fact. Anyway, while in the mines, he discovered the Kaprosian natives were treated appallingly by their LeBranau administrators. He escaped with the help of his Kaprosian crew and created havoc for the LeBranau, Dellacroix, and Rossenal families who were the primary owners of Kaprosian slaves in the mines. He laid the groundwork for the consortium by including friendly human families and Kaprosians in the organization of his network. They eventually broke LDR Holdings Ltd by destroying their ore haulers and defense ships. Emerson left the flagship to direct the battle himself and did not return.” Winter sounded far away, and her voice was soft.
“You were there.” I knew I was stating the obvious, but Winter nodded anyway. I had a sudden epiphany. Winter helped coordinate the battle and probably had a lot of influence on Emerson Boudreaux. No wonder L’Marchonase had instructed Narellian to contact Winter if he saw himself as her spiritual great-grandson. He already knew from somewhere…a family memoir probably, what she had accomplished with Emerson and what her role had been with John Trafalgar’s outfit. “You said yourself you weren’t related to them, so…”
“I’m not, but I am. I can’t let Emerson’s grandsons die because they did not have enough experience with Bildarthian weaponry. I can’t do it.” She looked at me directly and she had that intense expression in her eyes. “You can though. You can walk away. Take the Fred, go wherever you want. But, know this, Ellora Grace, whatever you run from will eventually catch up to you. Trust me. I know.” She bent her head and began entering commands into the navicomp as her couch moved around to face the main screens.
I recognized the star system she programmed as it flashed up on the screens. “Ualune. You’re sending me back to Ualune.” I blinked at her in disbelief.
“Well, you can change the registry of the Fred there and probably find a new crew for any freight hauling enterprise. Unless you’d like to go to Altamira?”
“Uh. No.” She wasn’t looking at me, but I had the strangest feeling, almost like a premonition she knew exactly why we’d avoided Altamira all these cerens and she knew who and what I was. It was the crawly sensation on the back of my neck and my arms, the same ones I had during my visions that stopped me from commenting further.
“All right then. Let me get my gear. Fred, transfer all command codes to Ellora Grace.” She stood up, wobbled a bit, and grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself. “I’d avoid Rangolin, Parchense, Dar-est-tellat, and Cahraehn, because Darryl left them hanging and they’d take the Fred in a heartbeat no matter who owns him.” She made it to the door. “Oh, and avoid Chimdee and the Hiden at all costs. Chimdee’s the Hidese homeworld but their influence is everywhere. Never get involved with them if you can possibly help it.” She started to walk out but poked her head back in. “Our passenger in the hold should probably be taken to a free Hashtaaleen colony if you can find one.”
I was out of my chair and running down the hallway after her. “Wait! A passenger? Why in the seven hells didn’t you tell me!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The child in the strangely designed pod was hardly more than an infant, at least that is how it looked to me. Winter opened the craft with an external keycode and peeled back the covering on the pod so I could look at the face of the sleeping baby. “Is that…?
Winter nodded. “We call them Frost Children. In the latter stage of the war, desperate Hashtaali parents gave their children up to the hibernation beds. Scores of them were smuggled off Hashtaal with many of them ending up on Finral’s or Darbulatan. Such was their parent’s desperation that they knew they were condemning their child to a life of slavery. But life as a slave was better than death.”
Not the best rationale, I thought, but then I’d never experienced anything remotely like it so I should not make judgments on a people long turned to dust.
“This Frost Child was found in the wreckage of a ship. It had been purchased by …well, an important personage from The Realm as a companion for its own child, provided it could be thawed and make a viable playmate. Someone found out about the purchase and re-directed the capsule to me.”
I stared at her. “And why would they do that, Winter?”
She shrugged. “I did a favor for some old friends.” She turned to leave the hold. “Probably as good a reason as any to avoid The Realm for a while too. There could have been media coverage of the theft since these old capsules are also considered archeological artifacts. I understand some museums would like to acquire relics like these.” She strolled out the door.
“Winter!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
“Yes?” She poked her head back in the hold with alarming speed.
“Fred, are you listening?” I was sure he was, he just hadn’t commented
“Yes, I am Ellora Grace.”
“Good. Then I want this on record. I am a pragmatist. I think Kerlian-Pertumit Garundi doublecross to be a hare-brained suicidal caper thought up by two schoolboys with romantic notions of grandeur. I also recognize that you, Winter, have absolutely got me by the short hairs. I have no idea where to find a free Hashtaaleen colony, I cannot go to Altamira, and I can’t thaw this kid out and raise it. So, I guess the Fred, and myself will be staying for the duration of this insane caper, may Oberonae bless us and keep us from getting killed.”
To her credit, Winter didn’t smile or acknowledge she’d outmaneuvered me. Instead, she nodded.
“Fred, belay the warmup. Shut down engines and reattach us to The Silver Siren.” To me, she said, “Keep the command codes. I’ll be in my cabin.”
I got the impression I’d passed a test of some kind.
siriusmoonlight 