Galactic Gale

Prologue

Adrift 

The cockpit of the small class-B vessel was consumed by the buzzing of static from the communication systems. Growling amongst the racket, Meldrom Kheen slammed her fist against the ship's control panel. Something cracked under the pressure of her hand. A red light flared, then the ship went silent.

Meldrom froze. She spared a glance through the open doorway and into the space beyond. Her fellow crewmate, Don Rictchia, continued to work peacefully. Whatever he was doing, Don would soon realise their ship was in desperate need to land. Just where they would land was an argument Meldrom was not willing to have – yet. Sooner or later the conflict would arise. It was as inevitable as the turn of the planets.

Pulling a leaver to her left, she sat back in the pilot's chair. Their thrusters were ruined, the back of the ship was heavily dented, and their radio was gone. They could still fly with what they had, but Meldrom was not fond of flying blind. They needed the radio more than they needed their weapons.

They could make it to their destination. Meldrom had permanently imprinted the co-ordinates of the meet-up point in the depths of her mind when she had first laid eyes on them. But what if they arrived too late? Their little run-in with the Celestial Watch had cost them time, and without their thrusters the ship's pace would be decreased dramatically.

She shook her head and pressed her green hair back from her face. First, they would fix the radio. Being late was better than being dead or lost, and with Don aboard she doubted they would receive a serious scolding from their senior. The project needed its smartest minds and its best warriors. While Meldrom liked to think of herself in the latter category, she knew Don rested in the first.

"Here," she snapped in the language of her people. Meldrom saw no need to translate for the blue-skinned being she had partnered with. Aside from being a mathematical genius, Don Rictchia had a talent for learning dialects. She had questioned him about it once, but Don had not been willing to expose if it was all a matter of him having an advanced memory.

"Floor panel seven-two is patched." He swept his glossy hair back and peeled his lips from his teeth. While Meldrom's people came from the other end of the galaxy from Don's species, she still understood his expression. It was as close as the Fellen could get to holding a human smile.

"Help me with the radio. One of the Watch shuttles must have gotten lucky and fried something important." She took the steps to the device two at time, Don following at her heels. "There's a lot of stuff smoking in here."

Don reached for one of the wires and gave it a tug. "I think it may be a burnt wire. It's likely the Watch hit our outer antenna and the inner damage was caused by a current of unwanted energy." He glanced at her. "Such would cause the system to become over-powered and short itself out."

"Your speech is improving," Meldom said matter-of-factly. She nodded once and started tracing wires with her black nails. Mechanics was not her thing – she was a pilot and a fighter, not someone who sat around all day playing with wires. The radio, beyond its buttons and leavers, was nothing more than a jumble of pieces to her.

"I like your ways," he said. "The Demar have a beautiful and intricate way of speaking. Much unlike the humans." Laughing, Don tugged a metal grate from the wall and tossed it on the floor. Without looking inside his newly created hole, he shoved his hand inside and pulled free a slender box. "Ah, yes. We have a broken translator. Without this one piece the whole radio will refuse to work."

"Class-B trash."

"Agreed."

Looking at her scarred hands, Meldrom avoided Don's gaze. "We need to land. I'm taking us to Ramerela for parts. While I get the translator, you can fix what you can while we're parked."

"You suggest we stop." Don shifted his feet. He towered over her, his posture so straight it should have been impossible for a being to achieve. "We must continue with our mission. The others will be waiting for us. If we are late, things will not be able to go as planned."

"The mission doesn't matter. It's just a first test. And for all we know the test might have happened already. Without a radio we can't get in contact with the rest of the fleet." She forced herself to raise her chin and meet his eyes. Meldrom might have been the boss aboard her ship, but Don held the authority within their group. He had connections she would never have, and for that she had to keep him happy.

"We can fly to the meet point, see what's there, and then venture to Ramerela if the others are gone."

"With the state of ship that could take us months!"

"Not if we regroup on time. If we managed to meet with the fleet we will complete the mission and get our repairs easier."

"It's too much of a risk." Meldrom pushed past Don and threw herself back into her chair. Knocking a button on the control panel, she brought up a map of the current sector they were drifting through. The Grey Region had little to offer in terms of cities and workshops. Amongst the poor selection, Ramerela was like a gemstone in a waste basket.

She pointed to where the city appeared on the map, nothing more than a yellow circle. "We can stay on course. See."

Don grunted. "I don't like breaking from the path. It's a dangerous move for many reasons. We don't want to get ourselves trapped anywhere, either. What if the Celestial Watch is looking for us? What if we aren't so lucky and can't escape them again?"

"We'll be quick." Meldrom made the promise more to herself than to Don. "And besides, we won't be troubled by the authorities on Ramerela. It's the locals who'll be more of a threat. I can deal with them, though. They are little more than common crooks."

"The uncivilised, then. They are even worse than the authorities. Worse than the Watch."

"Useful all the same."

"I don't like this change of plan," Don said carefully. He stepped around her chair and crossed his arms. "But I will agree with it on one condition."

"Name your price."

"I get to fly the ship for a while. I've been practicing my piloting skills, and I want to perfect them."

Meldrom blinked. That was not what she had been expecting. Still, she was not fond of the idea of letting Don take the lead for even a short while. With the ship in its current condition, letting a novice pilot take control was not considerable, but she guessed after they had things fixed it would do little harm.

"Deal," she said.