CHAPTER THREE

 

 

 

Sweat poured down Nova's face. She squinted against the sun and pulled a thin pair of sunglasses from her satchel. The smart-glass turned black under the glare.

A chip inserted into her brain allowed her to communicate with Cal and Crusader. The chip picked up on her thoughts, although she often spoke out loud from habit.

She licked her dry lips. "How far have I got?"

"Estimated two days walk," Cal said.

Nova groaned. She'd barely been standing in the desert for two minutes and it felt like tiny hammers were being smashed into her temples and along her forehead.

"I don't suppose our portable food-generator is working yet?" she said.

She gazed back at the lander with its carefully-controlled temperature and shaded glass.

"Negative," Cal said. "Recommend conserving water and looking for fresh sources when possible."

"Got it." It would be just her luck to be stranded on some distant planet with no fuel and then die of dehydration. But the longer she stood thinking about it, the more likely it was to happen, so she strode away from the lander, through the desert.

Her shoes sunk into the soft sand and encased her feet with burning heat. Her dark trench-coat absorbed the sunlight and poured it over Nova's skin. She considered taking it off, but then the sun would burn straight through her and by the time she reached the Confederacy site she'd be a giant blister.

The monotony of the sandy landscape made way for Nova's imagination. She slipped away to thoughts of The Jagged Maw and the coolness of space.

"You could have called for help," Cal said.

Nova sighed. He was right. She could have called Aart or Tanguin, but she wouldn't. She'd never admit to them that she was stranded. She certainly didn't get off of Tabryn by asking for help.

"No, Cal," she said.

The heat and desolation of the desert landscape reminded her of Tabryn and a heavy weight settled in her stomach. She spat into the dusty ground but the sour taste in her mouth wouldn't go away. Nova grew up in a building that served as both brothel and orphanage and the house mother, Roxanne had told her she either had to learn to spread her legs or learn to fight. Nova chose to fight.

In the haze coming off the hot sand, Nova could almost see the flashing lights of Tabryn's casinos in the distance. She shook her head and stared hard at the ground. This wasn't Tabryn. She dug the nail of her right index finger into her left palm. She pushed harder until the pain brought reality crashing back. This was a different planet, a different galaxy; her childhood couldn't reach her here.

She forced herself to move forward, away from the lander and her memories.

Hours later, the sun dipped toward the horizon and brushed the edge of the desert in bright oranges and pinks. The wind took on a chill which lifted the hair on Nova's neck. She clutched her trench-coat tighter around her shoulders.

Two moons replaced the sun, one glowed blue and the other bright red. The insufferable, unending sand had been replaced with a rainbow kaleidoscope of crystals that glimmered purple under the mixed light of the moons.

Nova slugged through the thick sand and her thighs ached in protest. Her eyelids drooped, blurring her vision of the desert, and she tripped over a dip in the sand. Her arms spun and she sprawled forward, sand coated her tongue and caught in her throat.

She pushed herself up and looked around, nothing but desert in all directions.

"As good a place as any."

She shoved the sand away to create a hole in the ground, big enough for her to lie in. She huddled into the hollow and tucked her coat tight around her shoulders. Despite the exhaustion coursing through her arms, it was hard to sleep. Sand scraped her cheek and tickled her nose and the wind howled over the dunes.

In her half-awake state her thoughts zoomed to Tabryn, to the worst bed she'd ever found. The day had started so well. She'd spent the morning playing with the other orphans, tossing a ball made of old rags to each other. In the evening it was time to work.

She spent the evening carrying plates of food to the customers and Roxy's ladies. The food always smelled so good. Nova's stomach rumbled and she licked her lips; all she'd had to eat was a few dried biscuits. Right here in front of her was steaming meat, and chips! All of it covered in delicious salt. She inhaled, enjoying all the smells.

She put the plate on the kitchen counter and looked around. The other orphans were out serving food and for the moment she was alone. She reached out a tentative hand and clutched a warm chip. She brought it to her mouth, enjoying the heat flowing through her fingers. Salt crystals rubbed on her fingertips.

Her mouth watered.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Nova's hand snapped opened and the chip fell through the air, end over end, until it landed with a soft thud on the wooden floorboards.

"I feed you, I give you shelter, and you steal from me!" Roxy glided across the kitchen toward Nova like a cobra.

Every muscle in Nova's body clenched. Her throat closed over and she couldn't talk.

"You've been nothing but trouble. I will beat you bloody until you learn some respect! You little thief. After everything I've done for you…"

Nova's heart pounded into overdrive and she did the only thing that made sense; she ran. She sprinted around Roxy and bolted for the door. She burst out into the dirty street and kept running. Roxy's curses followed her all the way to the corner.

Nova kept running until she was as far from home as she'd ever been, to the very edge of Outer Tabryn; it was even more derelict than the rest of the planet. The buildings lay in broken heaps on the ground and the broken stones blended in with the broken bodies.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body. Her bare feet bled from the shards of glass she'd stepped on in her mad escape. She couldn't go back to Roxy, at least not tonight. Maybe by tomorrow Roxy would be too hung-over to punish her. Nova took a deep breath and looked around; it would be suicide to sleep in the open.

A pile of rubbish bags leaned against the side of a dilapidated building. She scurried over to it, kept to the shadows. People would be watching her and it was best they didn't see where she was going. She darted in and out of patches of darkness until she reached the rubbish heap.

The smell of rotting meat flooded her nostrils and bile rose in her throat, made her eyes water. She forced herself forward. Her foot landed in something soft which squelched under her weight and spurted something warm and sticky over her foot and between her toes. She froze and clenched her eyes shut. She refused to look down; it was better that she didn't know what it was.

She moved some bags aside, tucked down into the middle of the pile, and then pulled the bags on top. Whatever clung to her foot reeked of death and decay. She tried breathing through her mouth but then she could actually taste the rot. She nestled deeper into the rubbish and buried her nose against her arm. She just had to survive the night, and then maybe Roxy would let her back.

Nova kept her arms and legs tucked tight against her body; used needles glinted at her from amongst the waste as if waiting for her to prick her finger. She shivered, who knew what disease or drug would pour through her system.

She pushed her back firmly against the wall of the building and fell into fitful sleep.

Nova's eyes flew open and she drew in a sharp breath. Bright sunlight glared above her, reminding her that she wasn't asleep under a pile of garbage, she wasn't even on Tabryn. Her breathing eased; it was just a memory come to haunt her dreams.

She stood and sand fell out of the folds of her clothes and from her pockets like dry waterfalls. She shook herself free of the tendrils of sleep and resumed her journey. She was eager to be free of the desert which seemed determined to drag back memories of her childhood.

 

***

 

Nova lifted her water bottle to her mouth and gulped it down. Machinery rumbled and in the distance she spotted the sparkle of sunlight reflected on metal.

"Cal, is that it?"

"Confirmed."

She climbed a rise and came on a hive of activity. People rushed back and forth between at least twenty ships and an oasis of trees and vines. The ships were unmarked but the clean lines and new engines meant they could only belong to the Confederacy.

Ancient trees made up a small forest, a hundred yards wide, that made a pool of green in the glaring desert. They were taller than any Nova had ever seen, taller than the biggest ships. Their thick branches and twisting roots blocked any view of the inside of the forest, like an impenetrable wall.

Confederacy officers lounged at intervals around the area with their guns slung over their backs. Their eyes flicked over the workers; they looked bored. The workers chattered excitedly as they hauled machinery and tools from the ships toward the trees.

Nova stared down at the Confederacy soldiers, in their navy blue uniforms, and a shiver went up her spine. There was something unnerving about the militant methods of the Confederacy. Just the sight of the soldiers made her want to retreat to Crusader. She couldn't though. She had no choice but to complete the job and get paid, otherwise Crusader was likely to break down somewhere in the middle of unchartered space, never to be found again.

She straightened her back and strode down the other side of the hill. Sand skittered in front of yet and yelling voices erupted from below. She looked up to see Confederacy soldiers sprinting at her.

Nova laid her hand on her pistol and waited for them to reach her. She clenched her fingers around the gun and took a deep breath. She had to keep her temper; if she lost control here all she'd get was dead.

The Confederacy soldiers were breathing hard by the time they climbed the hill to her side. Sweat poured down their strained faces and they clutched plasma pistols in white-knuckled grips.

"What do you want, hunter?" the female soldier said.

"Who said I was a hunter?" Nova said.

"Who else would come sniffing around Confederacy business uninvited?" the soldier said. "Search her."

The other two soldiers stepped forward. The first took hold of her arms and pinned them behind her back while the other snatched her pistol and handed it to the woman in charge. He went to work tapping his hands over Nova's arms and legs. He spent some time patting her chest while smirking at her.

Nova clenched her teeth and her face flushed. She bared her teeth at the man and strained against the guard holding her arms. If she had thought she could get away with it, without ending up on a prison asteroid, she would have smashed her knee into the man's face. Instead, she tensed her jaw and waited in silence.

He pulled out seven silver daggers and a nine millimeter plasma pistol before he was satisfied and signaled to his companion to let her go.

Nova glared at the soldiers. "I want to talk to whichever Confederacy puppet is in charge."

"I doubt he wants to speak with you," the female guard said.

"Oh really, then I suppose you can all be blown to a cosmic crap hole then," Nova said. She folded her arms across her chest.

The soldiers looked at each other, frowning.

"What's that supposed to mean, hunter? Are you threatening us?"

The female guard stepped forward and pressed her gun against Nova's sternum. The hard metal dug into Nova's face but she kept her face steady.

"Just a concerned citizen."

"Start talking, or start walking."

"Trust me, it's above your pay grade," Nova said. She narrowed her eyes at the woman and shoved the gun away from her chest.

The woman clenched her teeth and a menacing growl echoed from the back of her throat. Nova tensed, ready to duck the fist that was inevitably about to fly at her face.

It was obvious to Nova from their hesitation that these were grunts, not qualified to make any decisions. The fact that they were hesitating over whether to take her to the commander said there was a fallible command structure at best. Usually there would be at least four layers of superiors above these gun-jockeys.

The female guard shrugged.

The man on Nova's left looked up. "Alaina. Do you really think he should be the one talking to her?"

The woman glanced at him and responded in another language. It was Confederacian, which was supposed to be a secret language, an inside code. Of course, it had taken less than a week for the translation files to leak to the bounty hunter networks.

"The General put him in charge before he left. What choice do we have?" Alaina said.

"Worst thing the General's ever done," the man replied.

She shrugged. "It's an exploratory mission, and not our job to question."

"Maybe not, but there was no point taking the bitch's weapons off her. She's a hunter, she could probably break the old-man's neck with her little finger."

"That's his problem," Alaina said. She pulled a black communicator the size of her palm from her leather utility belt.

Nova watched the ground through the whole conversation, pretending she couldn't understand what they were saying. Their words only proved what she already knew; there was dissent in this Confederacy project.

Alaina spoke into her communicator, switching back to common tongue. "Sir, we've got a hunter on the planet surface. Says she's got some information and wants to see you,"

"Oh um, okay."

"I'm bringing her up," Alaina said. She gestured for Nova to follow and strode down the dune. The other two soldiers fell into step beside Nova.

She kept her lips pursed and her eyes straight ahead. At least these Confederacy soldiers seemed like the law-abiding kind. There were many who would have tried to kill her and save themselves the hassle.