Chapter 8

Regin had been spending weeks trying to crack the code. Once IMIPAC was off the list and a couple of others had led to dead ends as well, that had only left the last entry, ORAC. He was still no closer to finding out what it was, and even the cross reference file that he had finally been able to clandestinely access had been encrypted, but he had refused to give up. It was too tantalising. So every spare minute he had been working on it, and now he had finally cracked it. There wasn't much but it was enough. "ORAC," it read, "Ensor's brainchild (deceased). Last known location: Guada Prime. Seek and locate with all speed. Commissioner Sleer."

Regin sat back and pursed his lips. The infamous Commissioner Sleer. Still rumoured to be a driving force in the Federation for all that she wasn't well known or seen. She had been involved with the Federation for many, many years, for as long as he could remember anyway. So. If Sleer had been after ORAC, and with some urgency, it would be a find indeed. He called up the information on the planet listed. Not a problem, he thought, and set his co-ordinates. Maybe better luck this time.

"But what if we're wrong?" Veril asked, as they headed off. "Prime could be meaning the number in that context and nothing to do with the planet."

"Could be, Veril, but every other match is just as likely, or unlikely, in this case." Calan replied calmly. "We've either got to take the chance and try somewhere or remain forever trying to guess."

Veril slumped in her chair. "I know," she replied, softly. "I guess I'm feeling scared." she added, looking up at Calan.

His eyes darkened with sympathy and he laid a hand over hers. "I know, Veril. It's not easy trying to find the truth."

"I'm scared of what truth we'll find." Veril clarified. "I know we all believe that our parents are dead. None of us expect to find them alive. But still….it's this unknowing that made us all begin this journey. What will we find at the end of it? What if we find out things we don't want to know? What does that make us?"

"The same." Calan said firmly. "It does not change the people that we are. The sins of our fathers are not ours, no matter what they are. We are our own people and no-one else's."

Veril gave a small smile. "I know you're right, Calan. In my heart, I know you're right, but I'm still scared. The end of the journey could be near, what do we do after? Do we all just go home?"

Calan shrugged. "We'll decide when the time comes. We have not reached the journey's end yet, and none of us will leave before then, so don't worry about something yet to come. Don't we have enough to worry about just at present?"

Veril gave a small laugh. "Usually!" she agreed. "And the first worry is who's on galley duty?"

"Why?"

"Zev's cooking, and you know what that's like!"

Calan rolled his eyes with a smile. "Only too well!" It wasn't that Zev was a bad cook, but he liked his meals spicy and hot, usually far too hot for the others comfort. "Let's head down there and see if we can't temper the seasoning." Calan said, standing and offering a hand to Veril.

"You distract him and I'll hide them." she said with an impish smile.

"Agreed!' Calan declared as they left the flight deck.

Regin yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He staggered from his bed, pulling his rumpled clothes a little straighter but not really bothering too particularly. His first stop was ablutions, the second, to check the flight monitor, the third the galley for a rejuvenating cup of beverage.

As he sipped the drink the furry sensation in his mouth began to dissipate and he began to feel more human. He rubbed some sleep from his eyes as he sat down in the flight chair and took another sip. His eyes scanned over the screens of data, automatically registering what was right and if anything was wrong. The past couple of days had been rather harrowing. They had run into a meteorite shower that had crept up on them with little warning from the sensors. Although the ship was sturdy enough and the shields would hold, he had had to remain awake for the entire time, just in case. Just in case the shields failed, just in case the hull was punctured, just in case the hull sealant didn't function properly, just in case some vital part of the ship was damaged, just in case they were pulled off course due to the interference, just in case…..the list of 'just in cases' went on for two days and so he had remained awake.

When they were finally clear he stoped at the very next hospitable planet, though it wasn't the first 'habitable' planet. The first one he came across was a Federation outpost and he had no intention of landing there and having his ship confiscated and drafted into the forces, so he had kept going. The next planet was a Federation planet also - what ones weren't, he thought - but here was a vast native population and from what he was able to discern they were not being completely controlled by the Federation's use of drugs. They obviously were using some but this planet boasted a thriving space trading port and was properly registered as such so Regin felt a little more comfortable in requesting a landing. He was told to expect a visit form the Space Port Controller, who happened to have a Federation trooper as escort, but the SPC simply scanned his freighter ticker ID, mentioned a few port rules to be abided by, asked for his reason in being there and made sympathetic noises after Regin explained it was for maintenance from a meteorite shower, stamped a port pass and wished him good flying before leaving.

Regin let out a breath of relief at the relaxed and efficient manner it had been conducted and gladly went about repairs. Fortunately, these were only minor and he had to go to the stores only twice for parts, once for something he didn't have in stock himself, another time when he found that the spare part he had been carrying had come loose from its bracket at some time and been damaged also. So after roundly cursing his own carelessness, he went and purchased the part and another spare, repaired the bracket and checked that the spare was securely fastened this time.

Once repairs were finished, he made a brief trip into the nearby space port city and found some rations. He was determined to only choose dried or reconstituted goods. Although there was nothing to stop the Federation drugging these items also it tended to keep it for the fresh produce and water that the locals ate. Perhaps they realised that most traders would use the rations more than fresh produce and for the Federation to continue to survive, trade had to continue. Drugged up freighter crews would not be a viable option. So Regin purchased his rations and retuned to his ship before leaving to continue on his way.

He rubbed a hand again across his face, feeling the roughness of stubble and an itchiness that he knew betokened dried and flaking skin. Dehydration was a common risk in space-faring. Not so much the lack of drinking water, but the recycled air of the life support systems dried out the skin and, if not careful, this could lead to open sores, raw and weeping that would never heal despite all modern medical science could do. He had met an old freighter captain once, no longer flying, who still bore those sores. Once they developed they were susceptible to all sorts of things, especially fungal attacks. This man had half his face missing from where bacteria had entered through the raw skin and literally eaten his face away from the inside. Regin vowed he would never let his carelessness result in that for him. However, here he was, with the first signs showing.

He dragged himself to his feet and to the shower cubicle. The hot stinging spray of water did more to revive him than he had thought. He relished the feel on his skin and lathered the cleanser all over his body. The small gritty bits in the cleanser scoured away the dead skin from more than just his face. He pushed another button and the suds were washed away. He spread the hair depletion lather over his face. He had once considered growing a beard but couldn't stand the itching that began and so decided that it was just as easy to deplete every day or so. After all, it's not as though there's anyone around to see what state he's in, a reason why he didn't bother being too particular about his clothing either.

After a final rinse he pushed the last button and relished as the hot air blew over his body, drying it. He stepped from the cubicle and eyed his clothes with a little distaste. Although he wasn't a particular person, now his body was clean he didn't really relish the idea of crawling back into clothing that had been on his back for the past 3 days. He sighed and began to move. There was no recourse but to walk to his room and grab another change of clothes, stuffing these into the laundry chute as he went, which he did. He brushed his damp hair back from his forehead and retuned to the galley for another steaming cup to drink.

Once he was re-seated at the console he felt one hundred times better than he had. Not for the first time he wished he had more than a crew of one, him. Sharing the duties would certainly be welcome. He flicked a couple of switches and scanned the information. A light flickered indicating a transmission was waiting. It was from Tagin, a sometime acquaintance of Regin's, one that would sometimes come up with some interesting information – for a price, of course. He took a sip of his drink as he scanned the brief message.

"Hmm," he murmured to himself. "So we've got some old information from the Space Commander, have we? Okay, let's see what you give me before I pay you." He typed in a brief reply and sent it on its way, before turning back to the flight screens. There were no anomalies showing in this area, although the last meteorite shower hadn't shown either. He couldn't really blame the sensors for that, he supposed, but one day he did want to upgrade the system so it was further reaching.

The transmission light flickered at the corner of his eye. "That was quick," he thought, pushing the button and reading. "So you're confirming Guada Prime has an old security rating and ORAC, what ever it is, gets a mention. Also some rebellion trouble, wonder what that was about. Doesn't show anything more though. Well, I suppose you should get something for your efforts, Tagin. Want to keep on your good side in case I want anything else. So here's a little fee and I'll get you to do the research on Guada Prime so I can get some sleep." He sent off the message, checked the course was set correctly for the planet before retuning to his bed for some more much needed sleep.

"Where are we?" Kerran asked Zev.

"Just coming to the outer borders." he replied. "Look," He tuned on the large front monitor, where a planetary system showed up. One point pulsed brightly - their goal, Guada Prime.

"What about the other planets?" Kerran queried, leaning against the console's side.

Zev pursed his mouth as he pulled up data and scanned it, "Nothing of great interest that I can find. This one," and another of the points flashed red, "has a Federation outpost so it might be wise to avoid it. No indication as to whether they patrol the entire system or not, but it might be best to assume that they do and keep an eye out."

"What's the numbers?"

Zev shrugged. "The normal for an outpost in such a sector according to the data." he grimaced "But we all know that this isn't necessarily the truth."

Kerran mirrored his grimace as she pushed away from the console. "Only too true." she replied, seating herself in the chair next to Zev and pulling up some flight data.

"Okay, let's see. If we want to avoid the outpost and the logical flight paths they could be using if they're patrolling, it looks like we need to go this route." A moving dotted line began to trace a path on the monitor screen, ending at the still pulsing point that was Guada Prime. "What do you think?" she asked.

Zev nodded, "Looks good to me."

"Okay, lock it in." and Zev did so. "What have we got on Guada Prime itself? Any more information?" she asked.

Zev shook his head. "It's a real mish-mash. There have been so many changes over the years and what they have on file from 20 odd years ago is sketchy at best. I'm not sure how much to even believe. It could all be propaganda, the way the Federation has always been. So I don't think we're any better off for checking."

Kerran sighed, this was not going to be easy. "So what are we likely to come on now?"

Zev pulled up another set of data and scanned it as he spoke. "It seems to have a pretty small population, mainly agricultural on the north-west sector, some forestry on the southern side. There's a small space port there where they trade in timber, but it appears all natural produce is grown for local consumption. There's evidence of extensive mining having been carried out at some point, mostly in the northern regions. I'd say the land would be pretty barren around those areas, even after this long. The Federation never bothered much about sustainability of the land."

"Do you suggest we actually go to the space port?" Kerran asked, turning her chair to face Zev.

He frowned, mirroring her action so he faced her. "Not sure." he replied, thinking.

She drummed the fingers of her left hand on the console, frowning at the pulsing light on the screen, before turning back to Zev. "If we go to the space port, how much attention do you think we'll attract? Would we be viewed as just a trader or would there be some speculation?"

Zev chewed his bottom lip. "We might be able to get away with it but from what I can gather there's not a lot of trade carried out and it would be pretty specific. So I would imagine that they would recognise all the normal traders and an unknown like us would arouse some interest."

"Interest we really don't want." Kerran put in.

"Exactly," Zev agreed.

Kerran drummed her fingers a little longer then swung her chair back to face the console and began plotting a course. "Okay, let's start scanning as soon as we get in range of Guada Prime and find a spot to set down without drawing notice from the population. Make our first set down close enough for us to get into the town and see what we can find out. We can move later on if need be. We need to find out from the locals if the Federation do any patrolling, not just by air but also on foot and see if we can track any history that could give us a lead."

"Sounds good," Zev said, swinging back to the board and following her instructions. A final flick of the switch settled it in. Zev leant back and yawned.

"Get to bed." Kerran told him "You've done your shift. I'll fill in Calan and Veril when they come on." Zev nodded and stood, taking a moment to stretch his back muscles. "Have you spoken to her yet?"

"What?" he said, swinging round to face her in surprise.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Veril. Have you told her yet?" He almost opened his mouth and said "Told her what?", but then thought better of it. Kerran didn't like being treated like an idiot, and she was anything but.

"No, not yet." he replied, not elaborating.

"So when are you going to?" she asked, almost demandingly.

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Later, Kerran. There just never seems to be the time."

"Then make time." Kerran stated practically.

Zev sighed, starting to make his way to the door. "I will, soon."

"You'd better." was her final remark as he left the flight deck.

Zev knew she was right. He should make the time, somehow, to talk to Veril but he would either shy away from doing so or they kept getting interrupted. He paused as the door to his quarters swished open. What had Kerran meant by her parting comment? Did she mean that if he waited too long Veril wouldn't want him? Or was she warning him that Veril would find another? Was Veril showing an interest in Calan after all? He knew that Kerran didn't believe Veril and Calan were interested in each other in that way, but they did spend a lot of time together and feelings like that could grow out of friendship. Was that what Kerran was trying to tell him?

He groaned as he stepped into his room. How was he supposed to sleep now! He gave himself a mental shake and peeled off his tunic before lying down on the bed and closing his eyes. Soon. He would speak to Veril soon.