A Story Begins Now

By Jane Carver

Despite the urgency of the situation, Gambrel and Pessios did not leave Dasari for a full seven-days. Pessios suffered a head injury as well as one to his chest, preventing him piloting the Forbidden. Gambrel waved away the man’s apologies as he recovered his own health.

Pessios insisted they depart as soon as his vision cleared. “I contacted Canfanto and told him of the attack. They have heard nothing of Haggin or the Unseen. Captain Merlo is concerned about our health.” Gambrel waved that away as well.

Nothing he or anyone else did would make the man on that far-off vessel feel better. But Gambrel added the names of those slain on the Unseen, especially Haggin’s mate, to the list of those demanding justice. Righteousness. Revenge. By whatever name, Haggin needed killing. Those who followed his lead deserved death too.

By the time the Forbidden left Dasari, neither man knew exactly where to go. “If we follow the Tally Circle to its end, we may catch them. Remember, they think we are dead, caught in their ambush,” Pessios pointed out.

“They may change their course and double back to some of the places they passed, thinking to establish a power base. Gastrojan said Haggin wanted to control those with authority. Did he mean trading or political power? The man spent five twelve-moons establishing trade routes and contacts.” Gambrel paced the small main cabin.

“When you look at it that way, the only thing he needs now is political power to control trade. What planet has the strongest trade influence?” Pessios pulled out the map. “Canfanto and I were free merchants but mainly on Ancade. We seldom left unless it was on an Ancadian ship. Even then we did little trade off world. You know more about this than I.”

“Let me see the map.” The map of their current sector lay open on the console. Gambrel used one thick finger to trace the route they had flown so far. Tapping one name, he commented, “This one might work.” He scratched his chin. “Then again, the justice keepers there are strong. A stout political base but well enforced.” His finger moved on to the section of space ahead of them.

Pessios waited for Gambrel to decide on a course. The big man stood with his chin down, both arms folded loosely across his chest as a frown settled on his face. Numbers on the clock changed many times before he spoke.

“Two possible choices Haggin might take. Now,” he spread his hands out in a thoughtful gesture, “Which one he chooses is anyone’s idea. But they are close so we can check both within a reasonable period of time.” He laid a finger on the map and showed Pessios first one planet then the other. “Each planet is small. Wedon has one major town. The rest is farming communities no bigger than a few houses grouped together. Jaslus’ capital city and two smaller ones are close. Because the towns are small and few, justice keepers take care of problems inside the city, not necessarily outside. That covers a lot of territory. If Haggin establishes a base on either planet, he will be part of the system in no time with his ability to create trade, or havoc, whichever best suit his purpose.”

“If he plans on using Vangee, he must give her a reason to cooperate.” Gambrel rubbed the bristles on his chin. “Now what would convince Vangee to help him?”

“The announcement of your death serves no purpose, my friend.” A slap on the shoulder from Pessios was met with a smile.

“No, I think not. If anything, she would refuse to continue. No, he has something immediate on hand to use as leverage. I’m surprised he hasn’t done so yet. Gastrojan said they keep her mindless.” Though he spoke lightly, Gambrel’s fingers curled tightly at his side.

“Pessios, contact Canfanto. Ask him to consult the captain. What might Haggin use to force Vangee’s cooperation?”

“Aye.” Pessios settled deep in pilot’s chair and lost focus as he mentally communicated with his friend aboard the Fenix.

* * * *

“Gambrel?”

“Humm,” He rolled over in his bunk when Pessios called.

“Jacon’s daughter is missing”

“What do you mean missing? Wasn’t she aboard the Fenix when the justice breakers attacked?” He pulled on his tunic and trousers.

“She is not aboard the ship nor among those killed. Canfanto thought we had been informed. A matter of miscommunication. I’m sorry. That might explain why Vangee is kept mindless, and Gastrojan thought they could control her. Bassik must be with them. She is the leverage against the Radiant.”

Curses streaked the air blue as Gambrel pulled on his boots. “We have to assume the women are alive and well though they may not think so.” He stomped the boot heel down and left the cabin behind Pessios. “The sooner we check out those planets the sooner we can get them back.”

The Forbidden headed to the planet Wedon first because there was only one town to investigate. They passed over the planet, scanning for the Unseen, but found nothing. If the ship hid in the vast outlets, Pessios detected no energy readings.

“We will be conspicuous if we go into town. I’m not sure how many strangers show up regularly.”

“Let me go in as a free trader,” Pessios suggested. “With goods from the rear compartment, things these people have never seen. I can wander at will. Ask a few questions and learn much if one listens, a sideline of free traders. Information is a valuable commodity.” His lizard-like tongue flashed out and tasted the air around Gambrel. “Beside you are too big to be anything other than trouble.”

Gambrel’s mouth quirked into a smile. Even if Pessios stood out among the people of Wedon, they accepted traders. He, however, would be obvious for no good reason. Some might ask questions with no ready answers which did not suit their purpose.

* * * *

“I’m not sure what I expected to find, but it wasn’t Pharlie.” Pessios stepped into the hatch of the Forbidden.

“Welcome back. I thought a rescue might be in order. You were gone longer than planned.” Gambrel led him to the small galley. “Sit and tell me what you mean. You found Pharlie?”

“Gastrojan’s friend left the city the day we arrived. One of the serving maids described him perfectly, his garish taste in colors when he dresses and his penchant for caps of a fashionable style. More noticeable than even I.” Pessios chuckled as he ate. “Seems friend Pharlie plans on returning and setting up a shop.” He raised his elegantly curved brows. “He made himself pleasant to several merchants and their charming daughters. A wife or two if I heard right.”

“Was anyone else with him? Like Lycol? Or Walys?”

“Walys won’t show, I think. Too memorable if seen.”

“True. The scar and white streak in his hair makes him noticeable.” Gambrel pondered the information then asked, “If Pharlie isn’t here now, where is he?”

“Seems he made a quick trip off world before settling down.” Pessios wore an expression Gambrel recognized as his I’ve got more news look.

“So where did Pharlie say he was going?” Would his drawled question inspire a quick answer?

“Seems he went to Jaslus.” The flash of Pessios’ grin confirmed Gambrel’s suspicion.

“So, do we follow Pharlie who probably sails with Haggin or wait for him to return to Wedon? It is possible, you know, the two parted ways.”

Gambrel nodded. “True. Since we are stuck between choices, why not wait where they must travel—in space between Wedon and Jaslus?”

“Excellent idea!” exclaimed Pessios as he jumped up from his seat and headed out the door. “I recall…” His words were lost as he ran down the passage.

“Recall what?” Gambrel jogged after his friend. “Recall what,” he repeated when he caught up with Pessios in the control room.

“Here.” The smaller man thumped a spot on the map. “Perfect!”

One look and Gambrel clamped the other man’s shoulder hard. “That it is, my friend.”

One-third the distance between Wedon and Jaslus lay a desert planet with one moon. Dust rode the astral tides around the satellite moon, forming a hazy band marked on the sector chart as Pallin’s Ring. Nothing indicated the ring dangerous to ships.

“We set our own trap here.” For the first time, Gambrel felt right about his decision.

* * * *

Deep in the brownish dust circle, the Forbidden lay secured for the eventide. “Any sign of a ship yet?” Pessios entered the control room and approached the console where Gambrel sat on duty.

“Nothing. Not even a regular trader.” A mighty stretch and he traded places with the pilot. “If our thinking is true, the Unseen will pass here. I wish we knew how long Pharlie planned on being away from Wedon.”

“Did not hear that bit of information.” Pessios checked the long-range scanner. Nothing showed.

“Waiting is not what I do best, but I learned patience over the twelve-months.” An airy wave of his hand and he left the room.

* * * *

“Gambrel!” A hard shove on his shoulder almost pushed him out of bed. “Get up. The Unseen approaches.”

Dressing as he ran down the hall, Gambrel followed Pessios, his guns strapped to his side, ready for action.

Once the men decided to wait for the ship in the moon’s ring, they devised a plan that fit what was available. Run the Forbidden under the Unseen. Even the sophisticated radar system would not detect them. The smaller space ship would rise to the starboard rail, attach, and deactivate the burrblin at the point of contact. To shut down the entire mechanism would release the contained atmosphere and kill all aboard.

Neither man doubted his ability to overpower those sailing the ship. The operation’s stealth ensured easy boarding. Mercy was no part of the plan. A cold-blooded plan to be sure, but effective in ridding the skies of men like Haggin and his followers.

  “Let her get ahead of us.” Excitement seeped into the control room as Pessios powered up the Forbidden. “As she passes above us, we will slip in beneath her hull.”

And then the unexpected happened. Like a racer startled at a sudden noise, the Unseen powered up her engines and shot off.

“What the fick?” Gambrel broke into a sweat as he leaned over the pilot’s chair. “Did they detect us?”

“Not sure.” Pessios held the controls steady. “Follow or stay hidden?”

“Hold your position. They may suspect someone follows, but if we show then they will know. Let’s see if this is panic or if there’s something real here.” Though he wanted to chase the ship racing away in the opposite direction, hiding was the best option at the moment.

Without warning, the Unseen swerved in a graceful starboard arc back in the direction she came. As if the helmsman were drunk on wine, the ship tacked first one way then another. The erratic course made no sense.

“What is going on?” Pessios held the controls ready in case the bigger vessel headed toward them. His thoughts translated into the helmsman’s action. The Unseen laid a course straight for Pallin’s Ring. And them.

“Watch out!” A hard tug on the control stick to port, and Pessios avoided a near-collision. The Unseen veered off to one side as if rudderless in the astral tide. Out of the dusty ring she burst, on a path straight for the planet below. Gaining speed each passing second, the ship shot forward.

“No,” Gambrel’s scream filled the room and echoed off the walls.

As if she were a racer on a short lead, the Unseen pulled up, shuddered visibly before…

The blast caught the Forbidden across the side, tossing her in a roll Pessios fought to stabilize. For desperate seconds he worked to avoid the fate of the Unseen, blown into incandescent sparkles quickly dying in the darkness and peace of space. The brilliance outside the window faded before he gained full control of his own helm. Only then did he look for Gambrel.

Like a statute, he stood rooted to the floor, hands lax at his side, his jaw dropped in disbelief. “Vangee.” An agonized whisper. “She’s gone.”

He stared into the emptiness where once traveled a magnificent ship under full sail. Nothing marred the blackness beyond the window now. Even the ripples in the dust ring caused by the ship’s passing had filled in and appeared no different than before.

Like a soft toy with the fillings removed, he sank to his knees, his eyes still unfocused. “Gone. No one left.” His head dropped into wide palms that caught hot tears. Great draughts of air filled his lungs and left as sobs. His body shook so hard, he rocked. Loss. The pain of loss. “Hope,” he sobbed, “rose the day I met her. I secured it when she mated with me. Gone,” he repeated. “Hope. Vangee. Gone.” His body folded in on itself, crumpled, and fell on the floor. The sound of weeping fueled more pitiful sobs.

Reduced to a shell of manhood. No care whether he lived or died, Gambrel lay in a heap on his back, unmindful of Pessios at the controls. In all his years, he did not remember being so heart sore, even when he learned of Lindan and Dara’s deaths.

“Get up!” Pessios’ excited call barely penetrated Gambrel’s grief. “Get up, Sarjean, or you will miss something important.” Pessios could not rouse Gambrel, so he reached down with one hand and jerked the man’s head up to face him.

“Fick it all, man. I just caught a blip on the screen. Something fast escaped into this infernal dust ring when the Unseen blew. Get your ass off the floor and help me.”

Weak from spent emotions, Gambrel pulled his body up hand over hand using the pilot’s chair and the edge of the console. He saw his pain reflected in the eyes of his friend. But his sense of loss mellowed as Pessios gave chase to the unidentified spacer racing away from them.

Gambrel refused to let hope touch his heart again. Haggin was the kind of man to abandon his transport and escape. “Follow at maximum speed. Haggin flees. I feel it. The man died the moment the Unseen did. All that remains is for breath to leave his body.” Gritty determination flowed through him. He straightened with the strength of will only a lost one could experience upon seeing his destiny in sight.

The spacer ahead of them shot through the astral tides. Powerful engines drove the small craft.

“Oh fick!” Pessios pulled the control stick back hard. The Forbidden almost ran up the tailfin of the smaller vessel.

“What happened?” Gambrel determined the men aboard would not fool them again with an unexpected maneuver. The spacer had stopped and now floated without direction. Did no one control her? A tense silence followed. Neither ship moved, but neither hailed the other.

“Why did they stop?”

Pessios shrugged his shoulders.

A loud pop and a crackle of static filled the empty airwaves in the Forbidden’s cabin. “If anyone can hear this transmission, please acknowledge.” A feminine voice whispered the plea.

Gambrel’s heart stopped beating. It started up again so that his chest shuddered. “Vangee?” His hands fumbled at the control switches. “Quick, Pessios, open a channel.” The pilot flipped a switch.

“Vangee?” For a man so strong and commanding, her name sounded as weak as a newborn’s cry.

“’Brel? That is you?” The sound of weeping came clearly through her question. “’Brel?” All Vangee seemed able to say.

“Hurry, Pessios, hurry.”

Pessios powered the Forbidden and docked beside the other ship. “Before we open the hatch, consider this.” He laid a hand on Gambrel’s arm to hold him still. “What if she is being forced to call us? We can not rush into another trap.”

“Yes, yes.” as impatient as he was to reach his wife, Gambrel remembered the trap set on Dasari. He flipped the communication switch and called his mate.

“Vangee, we need assurance this is not a trap.”

“’Brel, I am holding Haggin and Walys by my powers. They cannot move against you.”

Though not much assurance, they had no real choice. He feared his enemy could force Vangee to say such. “We’re coming in. Stay away from the hatch, sweetheart.”

“Pessios,” Gambrel spoke softly, “I cannot kill these men in front of Vangee. I must wait to take their lives. Then I will leave. She will hate me for what I do.”

“My friend,” Pessios stopped Gambrel before he popped the hatch separating the two ships. “We have journeyed long together, and now it seems we win. Take care. I do not want to explain your loss to Captain Merlo. And remember too,” he added, “you did Vangee’s thinking for her before, and she took you to task for it. Do not underestimate the Radiant.” He grinned as his red tongue flicked twice.

They had journeyed far together, Gambrel realized. This man was more friend than any other, second closet after his mate. His point about doing Vangee’s thinking was valid. Perhaps he should do his own thinking on the subject. He looked forward to years ahead when the two of them would discuss such matters of import.

“Good fortune, my friend.” They clasped arms before taking up positions on each side of the ship’s hatch. Pessios tapped the control, and the hatch slid open.

* * * *

Silence. No one rushed them nor did blasters fire past their heads.

“Vangee?” Gambrel did not move for fear of an attack. Sweat rolled off his face to land with a small splat onto his leather shirt. Guns ready to blast if necessary, neither knew what to expect.

“’Brel?” Vangee stepped into view, and Gambrel’s heart kicked over hard.

When she held out her arms, he didn’t bother holstering his guns. He raced forward to meet her and swept her up into a bone-crushing embrace. His relief, his joy was so great he couldn’t even kiss his own wife. All he wanted to do was hold her, feel her warmth, hear her breath where it brushed his ear.

“Look out!” Pessios swept into the cabin and literally knocked Gambrel and Vangee over. As he did, he fired. Twin blasts hit their targets. Saved!

But not without a price.

Gambrel rolled, pushed Vangee behind him, and aimed his blasters in less than a heartbeat.

She realized what went wrong before him. Pessios lay curled up in the middle of the cabin. Gently she turned him on his back and gasped at the sight of blood running from the yawning wound in his chest.

“Can you hear me?” Vangee gathered the man into her arms, taking his pain into her own body. He was dying.

“Mistress Sarjean.” The Lizzardian’s smile did not match the destruction of his body. Light radiated from him. Joy at seeing her alive once again.

“No.” Gambrel’s voice choked with sorrow as he knelt beside Pessios. How could such a thing happen now? When they were so close to winning all?

Vangee looked at Gambrel, her agony as unbearable as the pain Pessios endured. “In my joy, I forgot to hold them.” Tears flooded her eyes. “This is my fault,” she whispered.

“You could never kill in front of Vangee.” Each breath the smaller man drew added to his pain. “They took the decision away from you.” Haggin’s blasted body lay sprawled across a blood-soaked console. Walys lay tangled in the base of the pilot’s chair. “Let me carry that burden.”

Weak laughter barely audible. Pessios whispered, “Mistress, do not let him think for you.”

Vangee gathered Pessios to her heart and wept. This time Gambrel sobbed for the loss of a true friend.

By Jane Carver

In long strides he scurried around the building. “Pessios!” His friend lay in a heap beside the door, hidden in dark shadow. Before he could check for wounds, Pessios groaned and propped up on one elbow.

“By the gods, someone stomped on my head.” He massaged his aching skull as Gambrel helped him sit. Too unsteady to stand, Pessios blinked his unusual eyes several times.

“Do you need a medical?” Gambrel examined the man and found a large contusion above his ear.

“No, I’ll live, but we have to hurry.” Pessios tried to stand and nearly fell into Gambrel’s arms. “Shorty left not long ago. We won’t be far behind.”

“Are you sure you can move? That bump’s bad.”

“Feels just as bad, but we must go quickly. He mentioned a house near the edge of town as he came out the door.” Pessios took several steps, with each one growing steadier on his feet. They ran into the alley leading to the next street. “Shorty failed to see me at first, but I must have made noise to alert him. He got the upper hand before I could stop him.”

“Actually, I’m glad you didn’t. He knows something, or he wouldn’t be running.” Gambrel picked up the pace when Pessios kept up. “I’d like to ask him how he got here ahead of us.” His attitude boded ill for the hapless sailor.

Hours of searching the town gave the men a fair idea of where Shorty headed. “Must every place these shagmiesters hide be in open area,” Gambrel grumbled as they stopped behind thick bushes. No getting closer to the front of the house. Full dark provided the only cover between them and the structure.

“What the fick do we do now?” Pessios scanned the area.

“No lights burn inside. Perhaps everyone sleeps. We can’t risk a rush if guards are posted at the windows. Let’s circle the place. Perhaps we can get closer.” They moved under cover to the rear of the house.

“See that small building?” Pessios pointed to a structure between the trees where they hid and the rear door. “We should be able to get that far without anyone seeing us.”

Gambrel shook his head. A weak plan at best, but all they had. “Is Shorty the only one in there?” A nagging feeling at the nape of his neck when trouble hung close bothered him now. Going blind into a place without more information wasn’t his way of doing things. But they couldn’t wait. Shorty might disappear, and his being on Dasari didn’t strike either as a coincidence.

“Stay low, and move slowly.” Gambrel drew his guns and checked the blastmaker attached to his belt. A massive shadow, he moved across the clearing behind the smaller building. They met at the rear. “Be careful where you fire. Don’t hurt Shorty or any other innocent in this game.”

Pessios nodded then ran in a crouch to the steps. Gambrel followed but worried. Too quiet. “Feels wrong.”

One man on each side of the door with weapons at the ready, they listened. Night flyers squawked, and tiny biting creepers buzzed. But no sound came from the house.

Pessios reached over and twisted the doorknob. The unsecured lock clicked open. Gambrel frowned and tilted his head to one side. Odd. But not odd enough to stop them from advancing further.

Pitch black. A cooking room or a storeroom? Deep silence. Not even the floor creaked.

The moon peeped in and out of clouds, filling the hall with wavering shadows. Each time the gloom lightened, the men stopped. With a wave of his hand, Gambrel motioned Pessios to the left where a wide door stood open, a matching one to the right drew him.

A flash! Light blinded him as a shot whizzed past his ear. Gambrel stooped to present a smaller target. Pessios lay on the floor not far away. Shots rang out. More than one, a constant flow of brilliant reds, greens, and blues, indicating a variety of blasters and phasers. A trap!

Too busy shooting back at unseen target, Gambrel hoped Pessios was not seriously injured. Arm forward. Pull the trigger. A brilliant blast. A scream! Feet scurried inside the room. Across from him, Pessios fired. More than one person hid in each room.

The room to the right lit up for a second as several phaser blasts took out part of the doorframe over Gambrel’s head. He fell to the floor, pulling a splinter of wood from his cheek. Behind him, someone grunted.

“Pessios, you hit?”

“Yes, but not bad.” He didn’t think Pessios spoke softly because he hid. He suspected his friend suffered a serious hit.

“Pull back further down the hall.” Gambrel scuttled backwards, firing as he went in an effort to keep his assailants busy ducking his shots. Someone ran forward in the room next to Pessios. A quick twist and he fired on the shadow looming over his friend. A body fell with a heavy thud. The coppery smell of human blood filled the hall.

Several shots rang out, and the burning sting of phaser fire singed Gambrel’s shoulder. Another shot and his leg crumbled beneath him. A direct hit on his position.

“Move, Pessios! Move!”

A groan answered him. With a curse that would make Vangee cringe, he crawled forward, fired at a man to his right then grabbed Pessios by the back of his tunic. Crawl. Fire. Move. Over and over while more men crowded closer.

“No choice. Take a deep breath and hope the gods like us.” With careful haste, Gambrel stuffed Pessios under a set of steps and edged in beside him. Reaching under his coat, he unclipped the blastmaker and pulled the triggering device. One hand shoved his friend deeper into the recess while the other hurled the killing device down the hall. Too small an area. The blast would destroy their ears, if not out and out kill them along with the attackers. Gambrel dove for cover, using his body to shield his smaller companion.

A death-like silence for a heartbeat then the world lost control. Thunder roared, fire erupted, and flames shot past Gambrel’s hiding place. All the air seemed sucked out of what were once a hall and the front of the house. After the fury died, leaving Gambrel as deaf as he feared, the structure burned with a vengeance.

Too late to wonder who attacked, he pulled an unconscious Pessios out of their hiding place and dragged him toward the back door. The air snapped as dropped phasers met fire and exploded. Fumes from the blastmaker threatened to render Gambrel as mindless as Pessios. His vision swirled to a narrow tunnel while his ears rang with rolling booms. Ash fell on his skin. A sharp tang made him sick to his stomach.

At the back door, he stumbled over a body. A man grunted and tried to roll away. Gambrel would have left him, but shock compelled him to grab the man by his collar.

Three men made it out into the night air. The house lay in ruins and burned like a fury. Half senseless himself, Gambrel tugged and grunted as he pulled Pessios and the other man behind the yard’s farthest building.

His strength gone, he collapsed. By sheer determination, he turned the body over. Gastrojan! By the gods of the universe, he wasn’t crazy. The man he pulled from the house was the former Fenix passenger and possibly Haggin’s companion in crime—Gastrojan.

Like a mountain whose fires have been held in too long, Gambrel’s anger let go in uncontrolled wrath. He straddled Gastrojan’s body. With white-hot fury burning his soul, Gambrel leaned forward. Silent as a stone, with exquisite care, he put both hands around the man’s throat and began to squeeze. Tighter his fingers curled. For a man barely alive, Gastrojan gurgled in protest. His arms lay burned and pinned beneath rock-hard knees.

More pressure. Gastrojan’s eyes bulged. What little life was left in the bastard seeped out in spittle, weak thrashing, and the sounds of tortured pain.

“Enough!” Strong hands pulled at Gambrel’s arms, but barely slowed his determination to end the man’s existence. “We must let him speak. He knows where Vangee is.” Like a magic bullet that drops a Digian courser, Gambrel released Gastrojan. “Get off him, you great hulk.” Pessios pushed and hit Gambrel’s shoulder wound. That was the only reason the larger man fell to one side.

“I fear you may have taken the last of his life. His injuries kill him. Caught in the main blast.” Pessios studied the maimed man, no pity in his gaze.

“Fick! I think you’re right.” Gambrel sat up and moved closer. The heat of rage still boiled his blood, and it was difficult to sit this close while resisting the urge to choke him again.

Gastrojan lay in the remnants of his burned tunic and trousers, his boots melted to his feet. Both arms to the shoulders resembled meat too long on a fire. Rasping air whistled in and out as he breathed. One eye laid in milky ruin while the other opened only halfway, its gaze dulled by pain. The monstrous blast had rushed past and taken his skin with it. The man was dying, plain to see. If Gambrel did not get the information he wanted quickly, any knowledge of Vangee with die with Gastrojan.

“Tell me of Vangee.” One meaty fist grabbed the dying man’s tunic, but skin came away with the blackened material. Gambrel dropped the mess.

A wheeze and rattle represented to Gastrojan’s laugh. “You seek the Radiant. She is beyond you, Sarjean.” Each word emerged as a tortured shadow of speech. The man would not last long.

His words tore at Gambrel’s heart. What did he mean? Vangee beyond him? Was she dead? “Speak, and make sense.” This to a man who breathed in agony.

“She is mindless. Kept under drugs since we first set sail. We almost let her loose once until we slipped the powder into her food. She controls no one now including herself.” Bright blood frothed on Gastrojan’s withered lips.

“Where is Haggin taking her?” This time Gambrel grabbed Gastrojan by his shoulders. But burned nerve endings made the man immune to further pain. His only task now seemed to be drawing air into lungs as seared as his flesh.

“Away. Away from you.” His words caught for a space then continued. “She will work for Haggin. Control those with power. He gains. They lose. She is…key to…everything.”

Gambrel didn’t care what Haggin controlled. He wanted the man dead and his wife back. Before he could ask more questions, Gastrojan slumped in his grasp.

“You fell into our trap. Like Haggin said you would.” A horrific sound imitated a wicked laugh.

“Take notice, you bastard. It is you who is dying.” Gambrel let the man go as his life slipped away.

Where was Vangee? Could a Radiant survive being mindless? His sweet adorable wife…mindless. A fate she would wish on no one. He cried for his darling.

The sound of voices carried on the wind.

Using one hand, he pulled Pessios over his shoulder. “Come, friend. We must hide until we can return to the Forbidden.” His other arm hung useless from the wound high in the flesh. “We are a fine pair. Caught but not caught in a trap. Too hurt to help anyone, even ourselves. And too far from Vangee.” His lips pulled into what some might think a grin, but Merlo and Pessios would recognize as determination.

By Jane Carver

The Formidable lived up to her name. Sleek, fast, and black as the space she traveled through, she carried Gambrel and Pessios at speeds unheralded.

Though the pair left soon after the Unseen, the larger ship disappeared from the scope. The residue of the ship’s engine mingled with thousands of others in space where traders, pirates and adventurers traveled.

Pessios fell in love with the Formidable within minutes of sitting in the pilot’s seat. “Canfanto choose well. I would steal this ship from you, my friend, if it were not for the seriousness of our mission.” Other than comments necessary to begin the flight and settle into the journey, those were the only words spoken.

Gambrel brooded over his mistakes. First, he allowed himself to be caught up in the beauty and friendship of Vangee and her father. When his natural instincts would have kept him on Ancade working for passage, he accepted her invitation to aboard the Fenix. Worst mistake of all, he fell in love with her. And told her so. Likewise, he grew to love petite Dara, she of the curly orange hair and gamin grin. Could he have made more blunders in such a short time? He didn’t think so.

* * * *

The Formidable entered port two weeks later at Zachtos, a cold planet with few major cities and only one water-port. Freezing weather usually prevented ships from landing. However, a warming spell had recently thawed the gigantic lake, and a few ships landed.

Questioning locals at the dock drew little results. Few dockworkers could tell if a ship was Ancadian or not and didn’t act like they particularly cared. Under surly suspicious stares, Gambrel and Pessios withdrew to an inn further into the heart of the town. They choose one that attracted less savory clientele. If Haggin and his men had landed and gone anywhere, the Last Outpost might have been that choice.

The women who worked the floor cared not for a man’s looks. Only his coins interested them. They told Gambrel little about recent visitors. However, an elderly crone seated on a worn wooden bench in dim light near the door motioned Pessios over while Gambrel sought information elsewhere.

A few words in the small man’s ear, and he waved his friend over. “This good one has knowledge of a large man who entered here a seven-day span ago. A man with thick arms, short legs but a part in his hair that is white and scarred.” Haggin’s lieutenant, Walys.

“Did the man indicate where he would be going once he left this planet?” Gambrel rolled a few coins between the fingers of one hand, the firelight glinting off the gold color of high-priced money.

The woman reached for the coin he held up. He pulled it back. “Answers first. Then coin.” Never once did he spare her a pleasant look.

“He wanted to find sailors. An odd one, him. He acted like finding anyone to sail his ship might be a problem.” A weathered face, deep in wrinkles and dirt, screwed dim eyes. “The tender pointed him in the direction of the last warehouse on the dock. Sailors gather there to wait for ships needing a crew.” She held out her hand, wrapped thick with dark material that smelled as bad as her.

Satisfied she told all, Gambrel dropped coins from lax fingers into the folds of her skirt. A head jerk toward the door and Pessios joined him. Once again, Gambrel threw the thick scarf around his head, this time to cut the icy wind blowing in a straight line down the street between the tight packed dark buildings. “We are unknown to these men, and we seek information, not crewmen. Better to draw one man out and encourage him to share.”

By now Pessios knew the word encourage meant using whatever means necessary to get what was needed.

Nearer the docks, the wind blew spray and foam through the air, coating everything in ice. Rough boardwalks lay deep in frozen trash. They neared the last warehouse with caution. Several burly men stood outside the door, huddled around a large barrel where a fire leapt.

“Lay back, Pessios. Let me approach alone. I’ve done this before and am aware of the dangers. Size and weapons are an advantage.” Gambrel pulled his coat away from his sides and let the blasters in their twin holsters glint in the weak light of morning. Black against black. No one would be fool enough to think this man traveled unarmed.

“Hello!” His shout alerted the men as he drew near the fire pit. The sailors didn’t scramble out of the way so much as move around the pit. After all, they waited for jobs. This man might offer one.

Gambrel held his arms out to his side. When the restless movements ceased, he lowered his arms so his hands lay close to the blasters. No matter how he drew them, from his side or across his body, his aim was deadly. The harshness of his gaze warned the others not to do anything untoward.

“I seek a sailor to fly me into far space.”

“Many would fly if enough coin were tossed their way.” A small man in an oversized coat and pale blue knit cap answered. He didn’t look up from the fire, nor did he stop rubbing his bare hands over the heat.

“Are you willing to take me?” Gambrel mentioned coin, an amount adequate for sailors on this planet.

“Where do you go?” The short man seemed to have the lead in the conversation. The others gave way as he rounded the fire pit and stopped before the taller man.

“Depends.” A wave of his arm and Gambrel motioned back the way he came. “Let me buy you a drink at the Last Outpost, and we will discuss terms.”

Suspicion kept the smaller man far from Gambrel’s side, but they left together. A furious gust of wind blew snow in their faces as they rounded the corner. No one else roamed the street so Gambrel reached out one long arm and pulled the little man with him into an alley behind some crates.

Thinking the two alone, the little man tried to bluff his way out of the implacable grip, only to discover another shadow joined them almost immediately. Pessios nodded to his partner but focused on the walk beyond the alley.

“I seek a large man with thick muscles and a white scar in his hairline. Came through maybe a seven-day ago. Wanted men to crew an Ancadian sailing ship. Not your usual space vessel.” The bunched coat in Gambrel’s hand tightened a bit around the man’s thin chest. “Where did they sail?”

“We’re not sailing together?” The short man’s question sounded ludicrous, but Gambrel answered anyway.

“No, we are not.”

“But I still get coin?” Meaning he wanted to be paid for the information he gave.

Normally Gambrel did not pay an informant, but jobs seemed in short order on this desolate planet. “I will give some if you tell the truth.” He pulled Shorty off his feet, left his toes dangling a foot off the ground as he gave him an evil grimace. “I pay if the information is correct. Untruths, and no one ever sees you again.”

When one swallows loud enough to be heard over howling wind then one has taken the threat seriously. The knot in Shorty’s throat rose and fell, the thump audible as he nodded. His head barely moved because Gambrel held him so tight.

“Three men followed the one you described. They’d worked on Ancadian ships before. Were familiar with their operation. The man was in a hurry. Said little else besides needing sailors. Before they left, one of the three—a friend of mine named Micos—told me they headed to the Outer Rim. For Dasari.” Shorty grinned. “You know this place?”

Gambrel tossed the man on the ground hard enough to knock him unconscious then let coins fall at his side. Without another word, he and Pessios disappeared into the white swirls of snow that thickened as Shorty woke and collected his money.

* * * *

Why didn’t Haggin abandon the larger vessel for something faster, smaller? The Unseen zigzagged across space but never in a pattern Pessios figured out. Always behind, by a full-light or a seven-day, Gambrel couldn’t catch man or ship.

A moon-time and several full-lights passed before their luck turned. Another informant gave them a break. “Heard the smaller man, some foreign piece, say they’d be sailing the Tally Circle. Goes past three planets that support life. If they sail the current and follow the curve, you should catch up by going the direct path. Harder on your ship ‘cause the atmosphere is a bit unpredictable, but faster.”

Made sense to Gambrel despite the risks involved. Pessios checked sector maps and found the faint swath of stars and planets in a graceful curve referred to as the Tally Circle. By setting a direct course, they determined to arrive at the second planet ahead of Haggin and the Unseen.

Canfanto contacted Pessios who said the contact still held strong. Pirates attacked several ships near the rear of the fleet, and passengers panicked. Many were hurt. A mother giving birth during the attack died along with her infant. He relayed a message from Captain Merlo. Vangee was missed, not only for herself, but also as a valuable expedition member. However, the captain added, Gambrel would not give up so hoped he would see all soon.

Gambrel’s despair grew with each passing full-light. By now Vangee might be dead. If that happened, he would avenge her death then disappear. The fleet and Merlo would never know what became of him. Pessios could return in the Forbidden.

Happier times with his lover, Effie and Jacon often played through his mind. Occasionally Pessios would begin, “Remember the time Dara…” Despite his reluctance to speak of those lost to him, he found himself part of the conversation.

When Pessios turned in for the full dark, Gambrel scanned the instrument panel and the stars beyond the glass. He felt a loss of hope. How big and bulky he was, how small and delicate Vangee. How violent and single-minded his life compared to her open-heartedness. Even little Dara created light where he brought only darkness.

Here he sat, hundreds of years left in his life cycle. One family and one true love had come and gone. After all this time, nothing remained to show Gambrel Sarjean had left a mark on the future. Until he met Vangee and the other Ancadians—Jacon and Merlo—he never thought much of eternity. Now emptiness spread out before him like a banquet of ashes and bone. Nothing appealed to him.

* * * *

When the attack came, it was vicious, loud, blinding, and a total surprise.

Gambrel and Pessios hid the Forbidden in a narrow valley some distance from Westinblat on the planet Dasari. They took a room in a disreputable inn near the docks. No one had seen the ship, Walys, Haggin or Gastrojan. Each full-light the two separated and scoured the town for news.

Two full-lights past before anything happened. When it did, all the gods of the universe must have wanted in on the action.

Early one eventide when fading light still shaded the sky, Gambrel met Pessios at the corner of their inn, the Meeting Place. In a few terse words the two agreed the men they searched for were not yet in town.

Suddenly he seized Pessios’ arm. “Look,” he whispered as he pointed across the street. “Isn’t that the sailor I hustled on Zachtos?” A small man in a large coat and blue knit cap stood on the other side of the street, undecided which way to go.

“What the fick? That is Shorty.” Pessios called the man that since they didn’t know his real one. “Quick. He’s on the move.”

Both started forward. Pessios crossed the narrow street and attempted to stay in the shadows as much as possible. Too big to be inconspicuous, Gambrel stayed well behind Shorty. The little sailor wandered leisurely down the walk before rounding the next corner.

Gambrel and Pessios met at the wall. “He’s gone into a shop. We’d better not follow him but wait for him to come out.” Pessios stepped forward then added, “I’ll guard the back in case he spotted us and wants to avoid our company.” He smiled before disappearing into the narrow space between the two buildings.

Not far away, Gambrel took up position in the inset front door of another shop. A sign indicated the business closed for the night so no one would bother him by entering or leaving.

“Too much time,” he muttered as shadows crept out further and darkened the landscape. Shorty hadn’t come out yet. A sick feeling churned in the pit of his stomach. If Shorty left through the back, where was Pessios?

* * * *

I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. Gambrel and Pessios are on the hunt.

Speaking of on the hunt, Jake Border and the Knight he awakened are on the hunt as well, each hoping to find their respective home worlds because where they are at their meeting is NOT their homes.