Jenna heaved back on the control arms.
‘Another power surge,’ she shouted over the shriek of the engines, wrestling the Liberator back onto an even course. ‘But the automatics are holding.’ Jenna’s fringe was drenched with sweat. ‘What the hell is going on down there?’
‘Avon?’ barked Blake into the comm circuit. ‘Gan. Vila. Respond!’
‘Perhaps they’re busy keeping the systems online,’ suggested Cally from the communication station.
‘They’re not doing a very good job,’ retorted Jenna. ‘Blake, we need a plan soon. If the automatics trip again, we could go into a spin I can’t get us out of. It’s only because the back-ups are holding that I can pull us back onto an even course. Without them…’
‘Understood.’ Blake thumbed the comm control again. ‘Avon!’
‘I’m here,’ said Avon through a veil of speaker static, his voice infuriatingly calm. ‘There’s no need to shout.’
‘Where have you been?’ demanded Blake.
‘Gan wasn’t feeling well. He’s gone for a…lie down.’
Blake’s face hardened. ‘He’s what?’
‘I’ll explain later.’
‘The systems are going crazy up here,’ called Jenna. ‘We could do with some help.’
‘Power reserves are draining all over the ship,’ explained Avon. ‘I’m diverting everything I can into the flight automatics and essential life support. Self-repair systems are functioning at a quarter of capability, but that seems to be keeping us afloat. Just.’
‘Perhaps Zen is helping us,’ offered Cally.
‘It’s a computer,’ crackled Avon curtly. ‘It doesn’t have any altruistic function.’
‘Just keep things together down there’ said Blake, frustration written across his face. ‘I want to penetrate a little further before we come to a stop.’
‘It’s going to get cold and dark as power diverts from other systems,’ warned Avon, voice obscured in a crash of static.
Jenna smiled wryly. ‘Cold and dark I can cope with.’
‘Understood. Blake out.’ Blake looked up at the viewscreen. Even through the storm of static, the bright colours of the nebula were still visible.
Blake shivered. Sure enough, the temperature was dropping on the flight deck, but it was more than that. It was a feeling. A feeling that something was calling to them from the void.
*
Vila eased Gan back onto the recovery bed. He had no idea how much Gan weighed, but it had taken all his strength to drag his bulk all the way to the darkened surgical bay.
‘I don’t mean to be rude, Gan,’ he said, trying to bury the fear that his friend would wake at any second and pummel him to death, ‘but you should try going on a diet.’ As he talked nervously to nobody, Vila retrieved an injector and a selection of ampoules from a nearby supply cupboard.
‘It would really help,’ he continued as he slapped a vial into the base of the gun-shaped spray, ‘if I have to drag you across the ship again any time soon.’ Vila felt at his throat gingerly and winced. ‘I mean, I’m not averse to being strangled, but lugging you around is not high on my list of jobs. Okay?’
He sighed and placed the hypo onto Gan’s solid bicep and activated. The injector hissed once, and immediately Gan’s features relaxed as he fell into a sedated slumber.
Vila gently moved Gan’s head to one side and examined the purple bruising that spread across his jawline. Avon wasn’t the strongest of men, but he must have packed quite a wallop. Vila reached for a regeneration unit and held the device over the bruise, hitting the activation control. The expected buzz and discharge of rejuvenating radiation didn’t come. Vila gave the unit a shake and tried again. Brilliant. Something else on the fritz.
He sighed, looking down at Gan one last time. ‘That’ll have to do for now. Get some rest, keep your fluids up and call me in the morning,’ he said, turning and stepping out through the open door. He heaved it closed and spun the locking mechanism into place.
The Liberator was dark. Vila’s boots echoed around the corridors as he padded back towards the core systems chamber. There he found Avon hunched over a console, working by the light of a flickering torch. Was nothing working properly? At this rate it might be a better idea to take their chances against Travis and a fleet of pursuit ships.
Avon didn’t look up. ‘Hold this.’
Vila took the torch and shone it—for all the good it would do. ‘Gan’s out for the count.’
Avon said nothing, sliding a probe into an access point. Green lights flickered from within the unit. Green was good, right?
‘What are you trying to do?’
‘Keep us alive.’
Vila nodded. ‘Good job.’
Avon glanced up through the light cast from the console. ‘Vila, do you have anything of note to bring to this discussion?’
‘No. Just thinking about how much we still don’t know about the Liberator.’ Vila looked nervously around into the dark corners of the chamber, as if expecting something to jump out at them from the deep shadows. ‘We still don’t know where she came from, who built her. Feels like we’re guests in a strange house and the owners could come walking back up the path at any second.’
‘And?’
‘Do you find it easy to sleep at night with that hanging over us?’
‘I always find it easy to sleep at night.’
Vila rolled his eyes and concentrated on holding the torch steady. ‘There’s a surprise.’
*
The viewscreen fizzed with interference, casting an unearthly glow around the gloomy flight deck. Blake tried to relax as his crew worked around him. The Liberator’s course was now holding steady. Everyone had done their jobs, and it was up to him to keep a steady head as they flew deeper into this unknown area of space.
That uneasy feeling prickled at him again. Why was this nebula restricted, beyond it being a navigational hazard? They weren’t that far out, relatively speaking, although none of the major space lanes and trader routes passed through this sector. But Zen had indicated the restriction came from the highest Federation authority, beyond the routine navigational transponder codes.
Blake stood and began pacing back and forth.
‘Blake, what are you thinking?’
He frowned up at Jenna. ‘I wish I knew.’
‘That’s encouraging.’ Jenna smiled. Out of all of them, she was the one that smiled the most. A smuggler’s humour? Blake shook his head and smiled back.
‘Blake, you’d better see this.’
Blake made his way up towards Cally at the main detector station. ‘What is it?’
The Auronite’s lips were pursed in concentration, her head lowered towards the console. ‘I’m not sure, it’s very faint.’
Blake followed her eyeline. A signal pulsed in the middle of the screen, barely visible against the sea of interference.
‘It looks like an energy signature. Another ship?’
Cally shrugged. ‘No way of telling at this distance.’
‘Which is?’
‘Roughly 20,000 spacials, as far as I can tell.
The screen shifted, the detector data ghosting out for a second. Cally sighed, clenching her fists in frustration. The pressure was getting to all of them.
‘They could be in trouble,’ Blake mused.
‘We’re in trouble,’ Jenna pointed out.
‘In which case, they might be able to help us.’
Blake made up his mind and strode back to the lower deck.
‘Get a fix on that signal and take us in.’
‘Further into the cloud?’
Blake didn’t respond. This wasn’t the time for arguments. He settled himself back into his seat.
‘Maintain this speed.’
Jenna moved her fingers across the navigational board. ‘It could be Travis, lying in wait.’
‘We’ll take that risk.’
Jenna raised her eyebrows and gripped the control arms, moving them expertly in a smooth arc. The Liberator shifted in response, the image on the screen blurring in a kaleidoscope of colour as they settled on a new course. ‘Course heading confirmed, speed Standard by one.’
Blake nodded. ‘Let’s see what’s in here with us.’