chapter 2: riddle of stone and steel
Riven had to give it to the pilot of the ForgeArrow, he was good. No sooner had the Kreeghor fighters oriented themselves toward the light freighter than the ship began whipping around the other side of the comet. Now, it was a race, with a squadron of Kreeghor fighters chasing the ForgeArrow toward the cover of the comet, Riven's flight chasing the Kreeghor fighters, the Smasher-Class Cruiser chasing Riven's flight, and the rest of Green Squadron chasing the Smasher-class Cruiser.
Tactics seemed to have gone out of the viewport at some point, making Riven really wonder what was inside that ship.
The little freighter was much faster than Riven would have thought. It turned seemingly on a dime and dove into the comet's corona, toward the surface of its irregular, five-mile diameter core. The Kreeghor pilots didn't even hesitate, plunging their fighters into the white, dusty maelstrom.
Riven pitched his fighter in as well, trying to line up a shot on one of the trailing Kreeghor ships. "Remember! No Missiles!" Riven called out over the net.
Riven let loose a stream of gravity rail rounds that chewed at the enemy ship's shields. The enemy ship went into a spin to avoid the next burst he put out, but Riven spun counter to the spin and let loose another burst of high-velocity slugs. The Fang fighter's shields, already damaged from the earlier missile volley, collapsed and the rounds sheared off a wing. The fighter spun out of control toward the icy surface of the comet.
Two more in Riven's flight downed yet another Kreeghor fighter. Then the mass of racing craft was plunging headlong toward the surface of the comet. The light freighter disappeared into what looked like a black line across its jagged, stormy surface. The kreeghor and the freedom fighters followed.
Riven winced as the black scar rapidly filled his cockpit, then yawned open to reveal a dark, massive canyon of razor-sharp ice and rock. One of the Kreeghor fighters nicked a protrusion and careened wildly into the abyss, a bright flash in the distance the only marker of its final landing point.
The fighters tore down the gouge in the asteroid's surface, kicking up small tornadoes of ice and snow in their wake. Soon, however, Riven noticed the Kreeghor fighters cutting back speed.
Looking at his own display, Riven keyed the rest of the flight. "I think they lost him. I'm gonna take a risk. Everybody hold far back."
The rest of the flight slowed and Riven, knowing the four fighters did not have the firepower to take on nine of the Kreeghor's heavy fighters, went for another option.
He fired everything he had slightly up and above the kreeghor squadron into the icy wall of the canyon. The results were spectacular.
The canyon wall disintegrated and then became a flood of ice. Two Kreeghor fighters that did nearly escape were slammed into hard by the fighters behind them who were a little slower on the uptake. The canyon didn't leave much room for maneuvering, something Riven realized as the wall of crashing ice began to blot out everything else. He jerked hard on the yoke and prayed for clear sky above. He prayers were only partially answered.
His fighter skidded across an outcropping more rock than ice. The speed and pressure blew his port shields and sent the small fighter into a spin. G-forces holding Riven back in his seat, he struggled to bring the small fighter under control as it spiraled out of the canyon. He was barely able to whip it between two towering, nightmarish peaks of ice, and was not so fortunate with a third. The bottom of his fighter was ripped to shreds and it was all he could do to set it down on the icy, unforgiving surface of the comet.
Riven took his time taking a deep breath, and then keyed the radio. Static.
He was completely disoriented by his wild flight and only vaguely assumed the canyon was somewhere behind him. So he sat. And waited.
Minutes seemed to drag into hours. The storm of ice particles were nearly deafening against his cockpit. He kept the environmental controls set low, barely warm enough, since he was unsure how much power he needed to conserve until a rescue came. Assuming there was one.
Ice obscured the sky above and the terrain around him. And an occasional rumble reminded him that comets weren't the most stable of surfaces to land on.
After a while, Riven slept a fitful worried sleep, huddled into his flight suit.
A knock on his windshield woke him up. It was such an absurd notion that Riven at first tried to ignore it. But it came again…harder, more insistent.
Riven fought his way to alertness and saw a short, stocky figure outside his cockpit, knee-deep in snow it couldn't have topped four feet. The bulky spacer suit probably made it look stockier than it was.
The being put his glove-covered palm against the cockpit and spoke, letting the vibrations of his voice carry through his suit to the cockpit.
"You gonna just sit there till dis thing falls inta that black hole up dere'? Or are ya gonna come wit me and git warmed?" The voice had a tinny quality, like it was more echo than actual sound, due to the way they were communicating.
Riven just nodded, checked the seals on his flight suit and grabbed out a spare package from the compartment behind his seat. Then, looking carefully at the mysterious rescuer, Riven reached slowly behind him and pulled out a long, glossy-black Hi-80 heavy laser rifle. The being didn't react in the least.
Finally, Riven forced sliding canopy forward and climbed out of the cockpit. The being stood with hands on hips, impatiently waiting for Riven to get used to the extremely light gravity of the comet.
"Don't do no jumpin' jacks boy, or ye'll be findin yerself in orbit!"
Riven nodded, carefully getting his legs under him. Then pulled a contra-grav pak out from behind the cockpit. Using a field that manipulates gravity, the device could allow one to fly or to walk with near normalcy on the lightest of gravitational bodies.
Seeing he was ready to go, the small, stocky humanoid gave a rough gesture for Riven to follow him and began trudging through waist-deep snow of frozen ammonia and water-ice.
The diminutive humanoid churned a path through the tall drifts with determination. The pair circled about half-way around a craggy hill, tempestuous winds threatening to bowl them over one moment, or tear them from the surface into space the next.
The jagged rip in the surface of the comet loomed just ahead. Rivin at first thought he had crashed much farther away than that...then realized that this canyon was just a branch off the main one in which the chase had taken place.
As the two trudged up to the chasm, the sleek, greyish blue battered hull of the ForgeArrow rose majestically from its depths. It's ramp yawned open as the ship held unsteadily in the gale about four feet off the surface of the snowy landscape. Rivin activated the grav-pak and gracefully lighted up to the ramp. he then sat his bundle of supplies down, and held a hand toward the small humanoid. The being just crouched and leapt up onto the ramp next to him.
No sooner were the two onboard than the ramp began closing behind them. Making a quick check of his suit's sensors to see if the air of the ship was breathable, Rivin popped the seals on his helmet and lifted it off, setting the helmet down on the deck next to his supplies. His rifle he kept shouldered. With a lot of grumbling and muttering, the small being next to him did the same. The first thing to come into view was a shaggy, red beard, followed by an equally shaggy, red mustache, ruddy cheeks, a hard nose and piercing black eyes under a heavy brow and bushy red eyebrows. The being make a great show of straightening out his beard and brushing away snowflakes that had fell onto it from removing his helmet. The being, a space dwarf if Rivin recalled correctly, looked him up and down and abruptly stuck out a stout, gloved hand.
"Churt Goodhammer. Ship's engineer. I be the one who keeps this bucket of bolts together," he said.
"Second Lieutenant Rivin Nebulo of the Free World Council," Rivin returned the handshake, wincing inwardly at Churt's powerful grip.
"Well met, youngster," Churt looked him over again. "And don't be touchin nuthin' onboard that ain't yours, or you'll be goin' out a lot faster than ya came in. got it?"
"Got it."
"Now to take you to go see the Captain." Churt reached up along a bulkhead and activated an intercom. "Got that pilot onboard. We can go now. Bringing him up to the bridge."
Churt gestured for Rivin to follow him and stomped his way toward the bow of the ship. The two went up an access ladder two decks before stepping onto the small, utilitarian bridge of the ForgeArrow.
The compact bridge had a wrap-around viewport, with a pilot and co-pilot station against the front control panel, which came between the seats as well. There were two chairs along the right wall, and one chair in a cramped alcove of screens and panels in the left. Only the pilot's chair was currently occupied. As Rivin peered around the cockpit the pilot's chair rotated toward him. Sitting in it was a 30'ish human male, dark complection, black hair straight and in a pony tail over one shoulder, a well-groomed mustache and thin, but fit, build. He wore dark red, military-cut slacks and a white shirt that also reminded Rivin of the military.
The man stood up, and Rivin saw the two of them were about equal in height. He gave Rivin a warm handshake with his right hand and made a sweeping gesture to take in the bridge with another.
"Welcome aboard the ForgeArrow. I'm Captain Ty Darion and this is my baby."
"I really appreciate the rescue Captain," Rivin said, returning the handshake. "I really doubted I'd get off that rock."
Captain Darion looked Rivin over for a second then nodded over and behind Rivin's shoulder.
"Meet my first mate, Lani Everlight."
Rivin turned around, startled to see a woman step from the shadows behind him. She was stunning, about 5'10", luxurious red hair in waves down to her shoulderblades, and startling light blue eyes. She nodded to him curtly, and stepped forward. As she stepped more into the light Rivin could see the tell-tale points of her ears and her angular, perfectly symmetrical beauty...and a face that at the same time seemed as youthful as a child's, but as old as the stars themselves.
"Askerla lumnovia tylsina de galtalia," Rivin intoned, bowing slightly.
The woman raised an eyebrow. "You speak elven very well, human. It is an honor to meet you, also."
Rivin looked over the rest of her. She wore a tight bodysuit that seemed part armor and part leather, with an abundance of straps, buckles and belts. On her side, she wore a slim, curved sword with intricate patterns along the hilt and guard. A silver amulet caught the light, silver leaves entwined around a rectangular sapphire.
"Lani there's not used to us spacers speaking Dragone...I mean Elven," the Captain corrected himself with an apologetic glance at Lani. "She's not from around here."
Lani cast Ty a sharp look at that comment and then settled herself gracefully into a chair behind the captain's.
"Well," Rivin said, tearing his eyes away from the beautiful elf. "As I said, I am very grateful to you all for picking me up."
"Don't go gushing out yer thanks all over the deck jes' yet," Churt grunted. "That Smasher is still up there looking for us. And we're not exactly in tip-top shape."
"Churt's right. We took a couple hits when I dropped the shield's during that chase."
"Why'd you drop your shields?"
"We had to, it was the only way to phase into that canyon wall long enough for those fighters to pass us by."
"You've got a phase emitter on this ship?!" Phase emitters were almost exclusively found on fighters from Phaseworld, a massive, intergalactic, interdimensional trading port set between the Consortium of Civilized Worlds and the Transgalactic Empire. Rivin had never heard of one being onboard anything but specialized star fighters made there.
"Yeah, cost about as much as the ship," the captain shrugged. "And it will be a while before we can use it again. In the meantime, we've got to slip by that cruiser and find a place to set down and make repairs."
The three shipmates then began to throw out a dizzying array of plans and schemes that Rivin could hardly keep up with. Even though Ty Darion was the ship's captain, it seemed that rank didn't matter much in this discussion. Plans were just as liberally tossed out of the running with comments thrown at the originator like "T'zee-faced star hopper" and "vac-brained kreeghor lover." Finally the three, with some comments squeezed in from Rivin, settled into a plan that might work...