The Honour of the Knights, Stephen J. Sweeney [reading women .txt] 📗

closed her eyes, letting the darkness take her.

XIX

— An Uncomfortable Revelation —

Over time, the grey form of Arlos loomed steadily larger as the ATAFs hurtled towards it, hidden from all but the most diligent observer beneath the veil of the starfighter's cloaking device. Owing to the direction of their approach, the starport was obscured from the White Knights behind the far side of Arlos; and as he rounded the dull planet, Dodds expected to see a flurry of activity from their dodecahedral-shaped destination.

Contrary to his expectation, the starport was quiet and appeared to be all but abandoned. The normal glow of lights and other illuminations that would have welcomed travels were absent, the port's lifelessness echoing that of the rest of the star system. He got the feeling that the port wished to convey the impression that it had been out of use for quite sometime, its previous residents having upped and left many years ago.

It was the second time in almost as many days that Dodds' destination had presented him with a cold and dead demeanour, and it was a theme that was starting to become all too common. The only indication that the port was not as dead and lifeless as it would have had one believe was the presence of a solitary cargo vessel resting near by; though it too was shrouded in darkness.

“Think anyone's home?” Dodds asked of his companions as they came closer to their destination.

“Looks abandoned,” Enrique said. “Either that or our friend has been busy here, too.”

“Estelle, are we in the right place?” Dodds said with genuine uncertainty.

“These are the coordinates that Commodore Parks gave us,” Estelle said.

Dodds' eyes flickered over the surface of the port. Under normal circumstances, a starport would be a hive of activity, its presence advertised far and wide by the constant flow of traffic to and from it. Mining vessels, transport ships of various shapes and sizes would be docked in and around the port, dropping off passengers, cargo and spoils. Even without the heavy flow of traffic, the port could be spotted from a long way off, the bright multicoloured lights guiding people home. All that was gone now, cold, uninviting grey steel the only thing remaining to greet visitors.

“I've just scanned for a possible means of entry,” came Chaz's voice. “But it appears all docking ports have been sealed. Looks like we're going to have to find another way inside.”

“We'll have to use an airlock,” Estelle said. “Which means we'll have to leave the ATAFs outside the port.”

“We're just going to leave them floating here?” Dodds said.

“We don't have much choice in the matter. As Commodore Parks instructed, we'll keep them cloaked whilst we retrieve the data from the agent.”

“Sure. And then we'll just fumble about in empty space looking for them when we come back out,” Dodds said sarcastically. He could see no clear avenue to how they were supposed to get back into the ATAFs once they had left them. Since they were invisible, the White Knights would have to grasp around in the starfighter's general area and try and feel their way back in the cockpit. But that could take hours, maybe even days. Maybe even longer. Dodds hoped that they would not be in a hurry. Taking any sort of mobile sensor device with them was not an option, either. Whilst the ATAFs' radars themselves displayed the positions of the other fighters, cloaked or not, they were not removable from the craft.

“We'll have to turn the cloak off...” Dodds began.

“No, Dodds,” Estelle said. “We were given very specific orders by Commodore Parks not to deactivate the cloak for any reason.”

Dodds said nothing else on the subject, sensing that Estelle was still upset after being chewed out by the commodore, despite averting Operation Menelaus from becoming one of the greatest naval catastrophes in recent history.

“One of us will have to remain out here, then,” Enrique said.

“No-one is staying out here alone,” Estelle said. “I want everyone to be where I can see them.”

“We'll have to find some way of returning to the ATAFs once we leave them, then,” Enrique responded. “Otherwise we might never find them again.”

“If we leave them next to that freighter it'll be a lot easier to locate them,” Kelly chirped up. “We'll have a better point of reference.”

“That's a good idea, Kelly,” Estelle said. “Okay people, let's form a line close to the freighter and disembark. Once you're out, make your way over to me.”

The others acknowledged her order and guided the ATAFs close to the freighter, watching their radars and HUD so as not to collide with one another.

Bringing his ATAF to a stop, Dodds informed the others he was disembarking. He reached under the fighter's seat and pulled out a small propulsion pack that resided beneath. The pack was a standard feature of all the CSN's starfighters, though it was only of any real use to the pilot during events such as ejections. Dodds had received training in the usage and general application of the pack, but he had never found the need to use it, himself. Ensuring his helmet and flight suit were securely set up and fastened, he opened the canopy. He unbuckled himself from his seat and, taking a good grip of his propulsion pack, let himself drift out into the vacuum.

His flight suit was well insulated against the cold of outer space and upon leaving the ATAF he experienced nothing more than the sensation of free movement within the vacuum. Dodds started slipping his propulsion pack onto his back and, looking around, saw Enrique making his way from his own ATAF. It was a bizarre sight to behold: from the middle of nowhere a helmet emerged, followed by shoulders, a body, legs, and then feet. It was as if a magical door had opened and his friend had just slipped out of it. His pack on, he watched as the others left their ATAFs, before Estelle's voice sounded in his helmet's speaker.

“Over this way, people,” she requested, raising her hand. She was waiting a little further up the side of the freighter and the Knights began to make their way over to her.

“We'll make our way to the port and look for an airlock, so we can get inside,” Estelle informed her team, once everyone had made it over. “Follow my lead.”

* * *

As she moved further away from the freighter, Kelly took a look back. During their approach, Kelly had stared at the vessel, very certain that she had seen it before; or perhaps the blow to her head was making her see things again. She had then scanned the ship with her ATAF's targeting systems and the resulting readouts had once again made her question her own sanity. Given the lack of comment from her wingmates, the others had not noticed what she had.

In large eroded and rusted orange letters along the central container was the name of the ship, “La Brabena Bella”, and underneath it in much smaller lettering, “Gloucester Enterprises”. The lettering was well-worn, barely legible with little more than the outline remaining; but it was readable if one knew what they were looking for.

Gloucester Enterprises, one of the galaxy's most successful trading companies, was owned by Kelly's family. This was one of her father's ships. She had thought it looked familiar when the Knights had first approached it, and her fighter's computer had confirmed the ship's configuration. The vessel had been designated a new name (“The Mayflower”) and universal identity signature, but there was no chance of disguising its distinctive appearance from Kelly. The body was segmented into three main parts, like a rigid snake that had swallowed three large rectangular boxes. The lick of dark red paint was also something of a giveaway.

What's it doing here, all the way out in the middle of nowhere? Kelly wondered. Despite its success and reputation throughout Confederate and Independent systems, the Imperium had never granted Gloucester Enterprises a trading permit; the Senate had seen to that. It was unlikely to have been stolen, and she knew the company removed all affiliated branding before selling off old ships. Something about its presence here did not add up.

She lingered for a while, staring at it, contemplating a number of explanations. She was about to say something to the others when her eye was caught by something else: portholes and windows dotted the length of the freighter at various points and from out of one of the windows a small face was staring back at her. As Kelly squinted, it remained there, transfixed, gazing back at her in wrapped, abject horror. It was the grubby-looking face of a little girl, long, unkempt dirty blonde hair dangling down around her head. Her mouth hung open, as if she had just made a great intake of breath and was now too scared to make any other noise or movement.

Kelly prepared to start forward to the window when a new face appeared alongside the child. It turned to glance at Kelly before it and the little girl vanished from sight. From what Kelly caught, it looked like an older woman, perhaps the girl's mother, who had come to move the child away from the window. From the looks of things, they were trying to conceal their presence.

The surprise made her gasp.

“What's up, Kelly?” Estelle's voice came in her earpiece.

Kelly looked around to see the others, now quite some way from her, had stopped their journey towards the port. Had she just imagined it? No, she couldn't have. The knock on her head did not appear to be doing her as much harm as she thought; after all, she had been right about the freighter.

“I just saw someone,” Kelly answered Estelle.

“Where?” Estelle asked, the three men next to her looking in all directions, as if expecting to see a body swimming through space.

“In the freighter. There was a girl, and a woman, in one of the windows.”

Silence from the others.

“And?” It was Dodds.

“That's one of my father's ships,” Kelly insisted. “And they don't carry passengers - it's a freighter.” Kelly saw that all four of her team mates were staring in her direction. She guessed that they were peering past her at the window, scrutinizing it.

“I don't see anyone,” Estelle said eventually. “Are you certain you saw something?”

She hesitated. “Pretty sure. They didn't stay there long.”

“Hey, wait. What's one of your dad's ships doing out here?” Enrique asked. “That doesn't sound right.”

“That's what I've been saying,” Kelly said.

Kelly heard Estelle let out a tetchy sigh, then, “Look, we don't have time for this. Kelly, did they look dangerous?”

“No, they just looked like civilians,” Kelly said.

Estelle mumbled something offensive under her breath.

“Right, that's all we need to know. Now, get a move on and try to keep up,” Estelle said.

Kelly tore herself away from the window and started back towards the rest of the group.

* * *

“We need to find a way inside. A service hatch or an airlock,” Estelle told the group as they arrived next to the port's outer surface. “Spread out and see what you can find. Call in if you get into any trouble.”

Even up close and personal, the port was nothing but a mass of grey steel plates, the occasional warning sign or instructional panel adding a tiny splash of colour to the otherwise dull surface. The group set about on a fruitless search for a while, discovering hatches and doors, none of which could be opened.

“Found one,” Dodds eventually reported as he checked out a door close to the main docking entrance to the port. Unlike the others, it was not security locked. He pulled it open as the rest of the Knights regrouped and joined him inside.

With the outer door sealed behind them, Dodds took a look at the control panel inside the chamber and managed to re-pressurise it. He gratefully removed his helmet and breathed in the air that now flowed into the small room. He then worked the control panel some more, looking for a way to grant them further access into the station. The inner door opened and, as it did so, the group found themselves standing in a narrow corridor. A number of men and women, sat along it, looked up.

The sudden appearance of the Knights sent a ripple of shock down the line and a man close to the group shot to his feet, screaming in terror. He stumbled and ran down the corridor as fast as he could, pushing aside a woman who was also trying to escape.

“What the hell was his problem? Did we spook him or something?” Dodds said, as they watched the man who had leapt to his feet round a corner on