Chapter 8

Lambert checked the seals on his wrists as he worked through his flightsuit’s integrity, turning to glance behind him at the co-pilot chair. Normally that seat remained stowed in the wall recess, but now it was unfolded, Mezul occupying it, her large frame just barely able to squeeze into it, the avian chittering in annoyance as the safety belt compressed her flared hips.

An hour earlier, Shaliyya had returned to the hangar with a guard in tow. After a bit of help from Mezul to translate, her speech much better than any other Balokarid, the Kith told Lambert that they were close to their destination. At last, they were about to regroup with their fellow humans.

His stomach swelling with apprehension, he had woken up a napping Carl, and told him to suit up. As he did the same, he asked the machine if they had enough fuel for a quick ten-minute flight.

“As long as we keep to minimum thrust, of course,” Alice confirmed. “What are your intentions?”

“I don’t want to risk the Gallipoli firing on the Balokarid ships.

We’ll fly in front of the aliens first, explain the situation.”

“Good plan,” Alice replied. “Should we take a few of them on board with us? Their ships are too big to dock with our own.”

Lambert nodded even though the machine had no physical presence, turning to Mezul to translate. “Alright Mezul, we’re going to meet up with Captain Anders. He’s our ... our Kith, you could say.”

At the word Kith, Shaliyya stepped forward. “Kith to Kith, yes yes.”

It seemed she understood his intent, and wanted to meet his leader. “Great, we’ve got a few spare seats around, one here in the cockpit, a couple in the rec room and the medbay.”

The aliens huddled together, and after a few minutes of deliberation, it was decided that Mezul, Shaliyya, Ruvaara, and the unnamed guard would stay aboard the corvette. They had just enough room to accommodate the large aliens, though their seats were just too small for them to stay secure without the extra belts Carl had hastily installed.

He checked in with his companion over the ship line. “All ready back there, Carl? How’re the guests?”

“Had to make a few modifications to strap em’ in. Won’t be winnin’ any health and safety points, but we’re ready.”

“Would you like to know the chances of potential injury to our alien companions?” Alice asked him, expecting he wanted more specifics.

“Rather not please,” Lambert replied. “Just tell me if we’re ready.”

“All systems nominal. Ready when you are, sir.”

He lifted his helmet over his face, clicking it to the neck of his suit, wincing as the internal oxygen sealed up with a loud burst of air. He glanced over his shoulder, Mezul sitting back and to the right of him, all the cockpit devices looking comically small compared to her large body.

“All good?” he asked, giving her a thumbs up.

She returned it, twisting her own helmet on and hiding her features away behind her angular faceplate. She looked like a cybernetic vulture with that thing on, the silver snout shining as her black eye sockets peered back at him.

He flicked on the engines, engaging the thrusters as he gripped the twin joysticks, the cockpit vibrating around him as the ship came to life. As if on cue, the massive hangar doors began to split down the middle, the gap between them slowly widening. Mezul was probably on her own channel, signalling the crew to open the hangar.

The dial the corvette rested upon suddenly began to turn, a moment of panic coming and going as the view through the glass panned. Like when they’d first entered, the hangar was packed with Balokarids, eager to see his ship in action maybe?

They were observant enough to stay clear of the backblast, the space behind the corvette cleared as the engines whirred to life, blue jets of flame igniting as the craft slowly rose from the deck. The opposite branch of the alien carrier came into his view, the rectangle of alien polymer flanked by the soft hues of the nebula, distant glittering stars framing the vessel.

He eased the joysticks forward, feeling Mezul’s eyes on his back, the alien interested in seeing another ghosha in action. He certainly didn’t want to disappoint, the man hitting the button for the gears with a thumb, the struts easing back into their housings.

The corvette glided through the hangar threshold, Lambert tilting the craft down and sideways. To their audience it would have looked like they were flying out on their side, nose to the floor. Once they were clear of the hangar, and his canopy was filled with the endless void, he hit the thrusters, gaining speed as he got clear of the large vessel.

He added a little spin just for flare, flying underneath the belly of the carrier, glancing up at its smooth surface as they passed. There was just so much metal stretching on into the distance, the occasional panel interrupting the smooth surface. The corvette flew into the clear, Lambert spinning round so that they were facing backwards.

Even several kilometres out, the carriers were still an impressive sight, rivalling that of even the biggest human cargo ships.

He saw the carrier that had been damaged from before. It was lagging noticeably behind the other two, thick smoke trails wisping from the flank of the left side branch. They seemed to have not been able to repair the hull while on the move, and he doubted they’d want to stop with the UEC on their tail.

Mezul hadn’t made any comment, so he supposed it was still space-worthy, the man flipping the corvette on its axis, reorienting so that he faced the rendezvous point. His instruments were a mess with all the interference, but they had mapped this way before their lucky encounter with Mezul’s ship, so it should be a straight shot from here.

He noted on his tactical view, the large symbols indicating the three alien carriers had turned from white to green, their previous unidentified tags removed. They formed up behind his corvette in a column formation, matching his speed as he engaged the main thrusters. They were well aware to let him take the lead on this one, putting a remarkable amount of trust in him now that their Kith was on his ship.

After maybe half an hour of flying, a new IFF tag appeared on his map, floating between two gas clouds ahead of them, giving off a subtle ping and creating tiny circles on his tactical view. Lambert remembered placing the marker down when they’d first set off on their scouting mission. Who would have thought he’d have returned with an alien convoy in tow?

As they closed in, green dots popped up around the marker. There were several smaller ship tags, along with a single larger one, the tag above it labelling the ship as the Gallipoli. The smaller tags were the other scouts, having returned on schedule, unlike him who was a little less than a day late.

“Sir,” Alice began, a hint of worry in its perfect voice making Lambert strangely anxious. “I’m detecting power fluctuations in the Gallipoli weapon systems.”

“I think they’re lockin’ us!” Carl said through the channel.

Mezul exclaimed something in her foreign tongue, Lambert glancing back at her. She did not have to translate into English, he knew what she was trying to say. The alien ships were likely receiving warning locks as well.

He clicked the bead on the chin of his helmet, cursing when he missed the first time. He had to be quick or his own people would blow them all out of the void.

“Gallipoli, come in! Blue on blue! This is Corvette one-five, blue on blue. Do not fire, we’re on the same side here!”

He waited with bated breath, ready to try evasive manoeuvres should his message get through too late. The local channel hissed with static, Lambert just able to make out the dark shapes of ships through the canopy.

The tension left him in a sigh as a voice crackled through his helmet. It was a woman, her Australian accent just thick enough to be obvious. “Corvette one-five, this is Gallipoli control, you have three unidentified contacts on your six.”

“I read you control, they’re friendlies. Do not fire on them,” he added again. “They’re not UEC, they’re ... something else, XT’s.” In Confederate military doctrine, XT was code for extra-terrestrials. “They’re with me.”