To pass the time, I explore Kateri. Near the pilot's den are several small chambers. A few of them are equipped with bunks, one appears to be a dining area, and the rest are sealed behind complicated instrument panels. From the arns I spent bonded to Kateri, I remember how carefully she monitored these rooms. Some have inert gas atmospheres, others have precise temperature regulation. She could ship any kind of cargo while keeping it under ideal conditions.
Talyn was correct in his assessment; she is a remarkable creature. Still, I feel the irrational need to move farther from the pilot's den. My mind and body are my own, for the moment, but that is not enough. I want to be away from Kateri, or at least as far as I can get from the center of her awareness. I find a wide, steep ramp and descend.
Her lower deck is a chamber large enough to allow for combat exercises, although I realize it must be her main cargo bay. I pace its length several times, my footsteps echoing into the emptiness. There is another sound as well, a buzzing that stops when I do. I begin walking once more, and the sound continues, barely audible over that of my footsteps. I stop again, turning in a slow circle. The buzzing does not stop until I stand motionless. I take a few steps forward, then quickly pivot to face the source of the buzzing.
The DRD chirps and wiggles an antenna in indignation, annoyed at being caught. In spite of my worry over Talyn and my frustration with Kateri, I can't help but smile at the machine's playful behavior.
"I take it you have located Talyn?" I ask.
The DRD chirps something uninterpretable and zooms off toward the ramp. As I follow it, I feel cautiously optimistic; surely this extension of Kateri would not play games if Talyn were injured or in immediate danger. The Leviathan's mind is a treacherous sea of data, turbulent with emotions. I cannot claim to understand Kateri, but I believe her feelings for Talyn are as simple and genuine as his for her. Her good spirits can only mean that Talyn is well.
Once in the pilot's den, I ignore the tremors in my reluctant hands. My desire for news of Talyn proves greater than any need for physical comfort. I force the cord into my transponder socket. This time, the pain is minimal and the disorientation lasts only microts.
Found what's left of Talyn. Found what I need to make him whole. Kateri shows me an image of our current surroundings, with our location and Talyn's clearly marked.
"That's the resistance relay station Soraya mentioned. She must have starburst there instead of going directly to the Peacekeeper base. What is it you found?"
Code to undo what you did, give him his mind back. Hidden in his memories.
"Yet you did not send the transmission." I feel a surge of gratitude and relief, even as I recriminate myself for not taking measures to hide the information from her.
Can't find Xera.
The Leviathan's grief floods me, and I struggle to keep myself from promising to help her. Only Talyn matters. If I allow myself to forget that, he and I are as good as lost.
"Kateri, I am sorry that you lost your mother." My words sound empty, but she knows the pain behind them. Moya was not the only Leviathan brutalized under my orders. If I allowed myself the luxury of remorse, I would drown in that useless emotion.
Won't lose Talyn too. Won't wake him. Trust you.
I will Kateri to starburst and feel the familiar thrill as she complies. For her, the effort is taxing, requiring extensive and complex calculations. I, however, am able to simply enjoy the feeling of power and speed. If Officer Sun were to experience this even once, I have no doubt that prowlers would lose their allure for her.
When we emerge from Starburst, Talyn is within visual range, floating still and undamaged near what appears to be an asteroid field. Kateri does not bother to greet him. Instead, she initiates several scans.
"Have your DRD lead me to the transport." I reach for the cord to disengage myself, but before I can do so, Kateri panics.
No! Multiple Sebacceans on board Talyn. Scans show weapons. Hailing us!
A male voice comes through Kateri's speakers. "This is Resistance Officer Jad Terryl. Leviathan, state your purpose."
Before I can answer, a familiar female voice says, "I told you, it's Kateri and Captain Crais! He'll know how to fix Talyn, I swear!"
"I told you to stay quiet!" the male voice responds.
"Show them on screen," I instruct Kateri.
Officer Terryl is the only figure I can see. When he first comes on screen, I see him in profile. I hear the sharp sound of flesh being struck, followed by a gasp and a whimper. He turns his narrow, acne-scarred face toward me, slowly flexing his right hand in front of his chest and wincing in pain.
He wears a Peacekeeper uniform jacket, torn at one shoulder and straining at the other, though the man is only of average size. The uniform's original owner must have been small, probably a woman. From what I have heard of Sebaccean resistance fighters, the jacket was probably looted from a dead enemy and kept as a perverse souvenir.
After just this brief glance, I understand the young man very well. He believes himself strong because he is capable of doing harm. He does not realize that rage clouds the mind as much as any other passion, or that cruelty is a vice more corrosive than lust or greed.
I smile, knowing that will infuriate him. "She is correct. I am Captain Bialar Crais, and I am aware of a procedure for reestablishing Talyn's connection with his pilot."
"So do it." Terryl gestures to someone off screen, and Soraya's face appears beside his. A large hand is tangled in her hair, and the barrel of a pulse pistol is pressed against her temple. Terryl steeples his fingers beneath his chin and raises an eyebrow.
Clearly, he hopes to appear the cool negotiator, but the sneering twist of his lips ruins the effect. He is a reckless boy, not a ruthless leader.
I do not have to feign amusement. "Officer Terryl, I must warn you that the procedure will be ineffective if Talyn's pilot is incapacitated."
"I assure you, Bialar, I will not be." Though he mocks my tone, there is more anger than irony in his voice. He twists his torso to show me the back of his neck.
I do not want him to see my reaction. I try to keep my voice neutral as I bark, "Kateri, cut transmission!"