Destiny Abounds (Starlight Saga Book 1) (19 page)

But for Branwen, those eyes melted into lustrous warmth, and the girl, a young woman still working through the last of her nineteen winters, beckoned to her fondly. She was joined by another, taller woman in her twenties, with a long, complex blond braid so very similar in color and style to Branwen’s own. She looked as she had when last Branwen had seen her, defiant jawline set in a critical, almost sarcastic expression. Piercing dark blue eyes watched Branwen from where she stood, battle ready, in her ornate leather armor, missing only the bone-adorned staff in her hand and the long steel greatsword that should have been strapped to her back. Mirroring the younger girl, she too held out a strong arm, as if waiting for Branwen to reach into the depths of her memory and clasp it.

There were more figures with them, trying to resolve out of the void of her subconscious, but part of Branwen couldn’t bear it, and she looked away. This felt
wrong
. Perhaps she had come to space seeking this very thing, a final journey into strange lands, a final adventure from which she would never return. But now that she stared into the face of that conclusion, she felt some of the hidden foolishness of that path laid bare before her. And as before, something deep inside of her stared back at death, and seemed to say:
No. I defy you. Not here, not now. Not so far from my home.

7.5
- Zimi

Zimi jumped slightly, having been fully intent on her work when Mi’aka, the Kepo medic beside her, suddenly released a startled
yip
. Zimi spared a glance at what might have caused it, and was rather surprised to see Captain Branwen’s hand clenched into the soft, tan fur of the Kepo’s arm.

Zimi was startled too; a moment ago, the Captain had seemed like she was all but comatose, something Mi’aka had informed her this type of poison could quickly cause. Zimi felt she was doing the best she could, but neither of the two of them had practice with something this virulent, nor did they have the materials on hand to treat it. Zimi wouldn’t give up, though; she never gave up when a patient was depending on her. She’d seen far too many people lying there before her and slipping away for her to ever stand by and let it happen again.

The Captain’s hand released its tight grip, seemingly to the Kepo girl’s relief, and instead reached vaguely toward Zimi, as if weakly gesturing for something. The Captain’s mouth moved woodenly, but Zimi couldn’t make sense of what sounds escaped it.

“What’s she saying?” Merlo moved in close, crowding them a bit and almost getting in the way of their efforts. Zimi was considering telling her to back off when the Captain spoke again, and Merlo leaned down even closer to try to hear it. “Pan… Paneda… Panacea! She said Panacea
,
” Merlo related, eyes wide.

Zimi immediately looked toward Mi’aka, still kneeling on her soft, furry knees and working determinedly beside her. But the Kepo woman shook her head. “Dere’s none here unless we sent someone to de nearest hospital, but dat’d take too long. Nothing closer would be pure enough to purge de toxins.” That, unfortunately, was what Zimi had feared too. “We might find something in a shop closer, but it’d be a hard thing to find.” She shook her narrow muzzle regretfully, and her hands began to slow in their work. Zimi almost snapped at her to keep working, but instead found her eyes brimming with wetness. In the background, two Kepo with stun-net guns led the uninjured assailant away, while the others seemed to wait dutifully for backup to arrive and help with transport and cleanup.

With a whistle laden with meaning that was lost on her merely human ears, the leader of the Kepo group quickly sent another of his company sprinting out of the
Destiny
and off into the city, a dark-furred, younger looking Kepo streaking along at an impressive pace. But their leader also shook his head slowly. “Far away,” he said regretfully, the mood of every Kepo in the room unusually mournful.

“No, it’s not.” Merlo spoke quietly, taking something out from under her arm. Zimi’s wet emerald eyes snapped wide as she recognized it as one of the little metal boxes that, until a fateful few hours ago, had resided securely on their ship. Merlo turned it in her hands, as if seeking a means to open it; as gently as she could, Zimi snatched it from her.

“Ya can’t handle it like that…” She trailed off, really only talking to distract herself. With careful hands, she methodically snapped the outer casing of the box open. She, Merlo, and both Kepo stared down into it for a moment at the delicate, lace-like surface of the Fade’s greatest gift to its children.

There were two broad, conical flowers nested carefully into form-fitting impressions, designed to avoid any damage to the case’s precious cargo. The flowers’ petals were a rich, vibrant purple that looked too bright and too saturated to be real, and they glimmered in the light with an almost ethereal quality. The wide, flat centers were white, soft and fuzzy with a delicate, yet intricate, pattern of fibers forming the stamen, and nine short pistils clustered around the center.

With all of the careful haste she could muster, Zimi dipped her fingers into the white, pulsing center of the plant. There was a tingling shock when she touched it, as if her skin had always been smothered, but now could finally breathe. She scooped out a small, careful amount, less than a quarter of the overall core. As she did so, she thought she saw the light from it dim, just a little.

From stories and the Captain’s confirmation, she knew that her eyes could perceive only a fraction of the light the Panacea
plant gave off; eyes of people from Fade could see higher wavelengths of light than people from anywhere else she knew of. But right now, those thoughts were just tangents, necessary distractions to keep her together as she carefully rubbed portions of the Panacea
liberally on both of Branwen’s wounds, letting the incredibly potent medicine work itself into her system.

Mi’aka helped hold the Captain, turning and supporting her helpfully despite the effort it took for the smaller Kepo to move her. After a moment, the commander came over to help as well, having long returned his weapon to the dark leather holster across his back. When Zimi looked up, however, she saw Merlo’s jaw dropping further and further open, as the pilot stared in blatant shock at Captain Branwen’s wounds; the potency of the pure Panacea
sealed them up before her eyes, roiling tendrils of smoke rising into the air as lethal poison vaporized and poured out of rapidly closing lacerations.

Merlo glanced at Zimi, then back at the wounds. “Well, shit.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rundown

Branwen

“Honestly, I should have known,” Branwen commented casually to Merlo, “I mean, it was the third time I had been poisoned, after all.”

Merlo shook her head, amused, as Branwen continued. The small woman was seated in the pilot’s chair, working the controls; Branwen once again stood behind her, chatting easily with her as they sailed through the habitable zone of the Altair system. “The first came from the blade of a horsemen, a raider from the southern reaches; the second was by drink, while camping after a long day’s march. In the former case, we had just silently forded the Stormwraith river in the depths of night, and I was intent on taking a group of hand-picked warriors to ransack the enemy’s more vulnerable supply lines. We were to hopefully make off with some of those very supplies so my allies might better withstand the Endless Siege of Tor Martheon, and we found that we were not alone in thinking that it was an excellent target.”

“I have no idea what most of those things are, Captain.” Merlo was leaning over the glow of the pilot’s console intently, as they passed through the belt of inhabited planets in the Altair system.

“I suppose that is, perhaps, a tale best conserved for another time.” Better to cut her story short for now and let Merlo concentrate on her piloting. Far be it from Branwen to allow herself to make this part of the journey feel even less safe than it normally did, so she fell silent and instead just watched the hulking forms of distant, green and blue planets, permeated with life, pass them by in the distance. Further ahead at the system’s heart lay the unmistakable, intensely bright glow of the Altairan star, with its distinctive blue radiance and odd shape.

Branwen had read that the star “spun quickly,” or something like that, causing it to bulge in the middle, and for that reason its equator also flared brightly while the top and the bottom shone with a dimmer, bluer light. She saw that this was true, and, as with many other things, just accepted it as another truth she couldn’t quite grasp. It made little sense to her; after all, stars were made of burning fires, not malleable liquids.

Merlo manipulated the controls with her customary skill and grace and Branwen reflected that Merlo and the
Destiny
seemed to be a terribly effective match, something the rest of the crew obviously approved of. Together, not much seemed to be able to match their speed or agility, and so far they were making some rather good money off of it. Right now, Branwen watched as they quickly homed in on Altair Prime, overtaking other vessels shown on the NADI with the incredible velocity Merlo had built up since breaking out of the line of ships passing into the system.

Before the attack on the
Destiny
, Zimi had snagged them a rather lucrative employment opportunity. A trader from Bizanti had offered to pay them rather well to move nearly a full cargo load of some sort of plants quickly and carefully to Altair, so their cargo hold was packed full of a large, purplish, bushy vegetable that grew only in water.

It wasn’t going to be as profitable as the Panacea
delivery had turned out to be, of course, but it appeared that the
Destiny
was developing a reputation for speed and dependability. So almost as soon as the Portside Authority had helped them clean up and set everything to rights, they had stocked the
Destiny
with cargo and departed. Right after a quick shopping trip to outfit all of her people with personal shielding devices, that is.

The Kepo authorities had apologized profusely, and to no end. They had literally continued to apologize for the incident on the docks until the ship left orbit. They’d taken care of all conceivable bills for docking and repair, and had even thrown in a bonus discount should they dock there in the future.

Meanwhile, Merlo kept bugging Branwen endlessly with concerns about her condition, but, true to form, the Panacea
had healed every last vestige of her wounds, getting her back onto her feet, fully restored in under an hour at most. Just like every time before. She didn’t mind the questions, though; Branwen found Merlo’s slowly ebbing disbelief over the matter highly amusing—and perhaps a little satisfying—on many levels.

A shining silvery ring still hung behind them in the distance, orbiting at what Branwen was informed to be an “L-point,” which was apparently a place where space-things could stand still, unmoved by the orbit of the planets nearby. The ring was massive, big enough that several dreadnoughts might move through it abreast, and it shimmered in the light of Altair’s star, gleaming brightly as if to guide the wayward home again. It was also the only thing connecting the Dreamcatcher and Chimera clusters, and they’d had to traverse it to get here.

That, of course, was the wondrous Altairan Gate that connected the distant Kepo-Kepoa system to Altairan space, providing instantaneous travel between the two systems. Branwen watched as Merlo angled the
Destiny
, beginning to decelerate the vessel as they skirted the enormous amount of starship traffic going to or coming from what was the penultimate example of Altairan architecture and astrophysics. Once in closer proximity to the Altair Prime, they’d have to identify themselves, and would get sorted by Altairan traffic control, then put into a neat and orderly positions to await their turn to dock on the planet. But until then, Merlo could do as she pleased and cut some more time off of their journey.

“I am going to get Zimi and check the cargo for landing and reentry,” Branwen clasped Merlo lightly on the shoulder as she said it, being careful not to jar her while she made her careful adjustments, and then moved on down the hall. After retrieving Zimi from her quarters, she took the girl down to the cargo hold and decided to spend the rest of the time until planetfall chatting lightly and helping her care for the racks and racks of water-dwelling plants. If anything, Branwen had the opposite of the proverbial “green thumb,” but she nonetheless found the exercise relaxing, following Zimi’s instructions and doing some easy labor.

“Captain to the bridge!” They had been working for an hour or so before Merlo’s voice rang out over the com, causing Branwen to drop what she was doing and dart quickly up the stairs and down the hall to the bridge, wondering what might be amiss. She was greeted by by the forward screen being split into two images, one half still focusing on the NADI and a digital imaging of where the
Destiny
currently drifted in low orbit, awaiting its turn to land in one of the larger Altairan ports.

The other was occupied by the image of an older man with faded blue eyes and short, black hair peppered with a dignified scattering of gray. He was dressed in an important looking version of the pristine white and gray of the Altairan Legion, and peered intently over his steepled fingers at them with a sharp intelligence.