TOV_ChapterOne

       No matter how fast her fingers maneuvered, the U-shaped dashboard remained lit up like a Klinari space
cruiser running on high alert. The controls’ sluggish response meant a power dump was going on somewhere.
Zara lifted her nose and sniffed. No evidence of a Prostene reek.
   Damn the faulty hyperdrive! If it hadn’t conked out she…they wouldn’t be in this jam.
   Saving her heroically-acclaimed hide was crucial. Failure would make this her final footnote in the holo-history
books. And she’d chuck all her precious cargo to feel the twin pump of power kick in to prove that false.
Otherwise, her mother would never let her live this down. Besmirching the Dior name wasn’t allowed.
   Deafened by the blare of warning alarms, Zara decoded the cascade of malfunctions. Boosters off-line. Fuel
cells low. Oxygen depletion in rear quarters. Seal or no seal, the cockpit would be next. The deterioration
resigned her to an unpalatable fact. There would be no safe landing in Sartin this mission.
   “Turn that blasted beeping off!” Zara screamed over the racket. She couldn’t think under the barrage of noise.
   Instantly the cacophony ceased, the silence so serene she could hear herself pant.
   The force of the rebellious Xion’s descent drew her to the edge of her seat. She needed to keep her keister
seated long enough to steer this bulk of spare parts. It still amazed her that the engineers had been daft
enough to leave out belts. She dug her feet in, gripping the striated metal floor with her Government-issue
boots. “CHIRI, diagnostics! I need to know exactly what’s causing this.”
   “Direct cause of malfunctions unknown. Therefore, it’s fortunate we are close to a sizable target.”
   “I don’t need your sarcasm,” Zara grunted, pulling back with everything she could muster on the yoke
between her knees. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip at the exertion, the unmistakable taste of blood hitting
her tongue. Normally, the small craft could be maneuvered with a gentle nudge of her fingers. This was a lesson
she didn’t want to learn the hard way. She’d settle for a holo-simulator any day. “CHIRI, can you do any
better?
   “The systems which allow me to command the ship are currently offline,” the sentient computer replied.
   “Yet you didn’t find that important to mention in your diagnostics report?”
   “I didn’t want to alarm you.”
   “As if this situation isn’t sufficient.” Her voice was laced with icy disdain, yet it made no impression on her
companion. CHIRI was nothing but a mass of steel and circuits with a highly-developed central processor.   “Do
you have any ideas?”
   “You’ve got to get some control.”
   “Ha, ha. Very funny!” The globe fixated in her sight magnified in size as they sped towards its segregated
surface of land and water.
   “Reduce your speed by 40 knots. Get the nose up and keep it there. I’ll scan for a landing spot within reach
of our present trajectory.”
   Zara nodded curtly, her concentration firmly placed on carrying out CHIRI’s directions. She turned a knob to
her right and held her breath, watching as the gauge’s thin white indicator fluttered. Please let the shear on the
rear flaps slow us down.
   Seconds ticked by. Sweat beaded on her forehead before it ran in streaks down her temples. A drop snaked
its way into her eye, burning the tissue. Rapidly blinking, she forced the water that had welled in reaction down
her cheeks.
   They were not tears. She wasn’t that weak.
   Not enough. They were still falling 20 knots too fast! What else could she do?
   The air jets for docking! The backwards thrust should offset their descent. Granted, the force would be
minimal, but in the best-case scenario they wouldn’t resemble meteor dust. Zara glanced sideways and flipped
up the blood-red switch near her ear. The familiar whoosh of air sounded from the chambers below, causing the
Xion to shimmy. As the resultant force jostled the stick in her hands, mini currents raced up her arms, dissipating
throughout her body in a drawn out shudder.
   It was slowing. A small smile of satisfaction curved her lips. Zara knew from experience that momentary
triumph was a killer, but the knowledge couldn’t smother her joy.
   The velocity indicator began a slow, steady rise, effectively dampening her celebration. Her whoop died on her
lips. To make matters worse, a thick haze of clouds had engulfed them.
   She couldn’t see!
   Farther in the fog broke, revealing a sea of green all the way to the horizon. Fiery sienna-colored hills loomed
up to meet them. The contrast struck a visual punch, just like the craggy surfaces would do to her hull. Slivers
of blue cut through the landscape like veins amidst the lush vegetation. Trees dotted the shallow valleys,
greeting them with upturned limbs that swayed in the strong breeze.
   Her eyes scanned the land below, searching in a grid. No suitable place to set down in sight.   “CHIRI, have
you flaked out? I need a visual on that landing spot.”
   “I don’t know exactly what that means, but I can deduce from your tone it wasn’t meant to be
complimentary. Nonetheless, I’ve pinpointed a location.”
   A holographic 3-D rendering popped up. Its ragged appearance proved it had been assembled with the bare
minimum of data. A flashing red light marked CHIRI’s estimation of the only spot available. Zara checked their
bearings against the flickering image. They’d have to pray real hard.
   “You should have a visual after clearing this mountain.”
   The hill’s dusty summit was level on one side. Not bad for a natural landing pad, but it was going to be tight.
She’d managed worse. Though the Clanious IV maneuver had been done with a brand new ship.
   She hoped the remote location would allow them time for repairs without drawing attention from the native
populace, whoever they might be.
   The uncertainty spawned an adrenalin high, which she usually relished as a top-notch Voyager, but right now
she’d gladly stand sword-to-sword with the blood-thirsty Canisapiens. At least with them she knew what she
was up against.
   “Cut the speed!” CHIRI’s urgent demand broke through Zara’s thoughts.
   “This is as slow as I can manage! If you have any ideas, feel free to implement them.”
   “I will.” The power flickered, signaling CHIRI’s intervention.
   When there wasn’t an explanation forthcoming, Zara became suspicious. It wasn’t like the computer to keep a
great idea to herself. Especially when she won any confrontation. At times of crisis or otherwise, CHIRI loved to
boast. Now should’ve been no different. “What did you do?”
   “Just jettisoned a little unneeded cargo.” The computer’s synthesized voice was hesitant. “And I set the
open hatches to mimic an antique airbrake.”
   “What exactly did you dump?”
   “The auxiliary fuel tanks. We’re going down anyway.”
   “Smart move. I wish I’d thought of it.” At least they wouldn’t explode on impact. She locked her gaze on
her target, her body tense. “While I land this piece of scrap metal, why don’t you sweep for languages and
anything else that might be helpful?”
   “Done. Only two primary dialects. Anglais and Frean. One of which you know.”
   And am speaking now. “Anything else?”
   The computer’s electronic sigh hummed louder than the engine’s faint whir. “Nothing comes to mind.”
   “Good. We’re there.” CHIRI’s brainstorm had helped cut their speed down to 150. Slow enough to wrestle
the Xion into a textbook example of horizontal alignment.
   Zara struggled against the vibrating ship, biting back a yelp when the gyrating yoke stung her hand; it felt like
the shaft was embedded with thousands of miniscule electrodes.   They’d overshot the strip! Tangled vegetation
lay at the end, hiding any clues about the mound underneath.
   Zara forced all her power into halting the ship. A groan ripped for her lips. Overexertion stung her arms,
scorching the already exhausted muscles.
   Too late. A split second of thought.
   The nose cone collided into the barricade spewing trails of dust like smoky streamers. Zara lurched forward,
almost gutted by the control stick, and slammed into the console. Plasteen shattered with a crunch as her
forehead hit the thick, protective windshield. The sickening thud reverberated as a drumbeat inside her head.
Pain shot between her temples like she’d cracked her skull in two.
   When the field of blackness began to fade around the perimeter, Zara rose slowly using the control panel for
leverage. Plasteen shards pricked her fingers, leaving traces of blood. Dazed, she regained her seat, trying to
focus her rattled brain.
   She took a deep breath, belatedly realizing the air was richer. Lucky for her, oxygen or something similar,
comprised a majority of the atmosphere.
   She was alive.
   Her body begged for a reprise. Every sinew unanimously voiced its distress; it felt like they’d been walloped by
an angry mob armed to the teeth. “CHIRI, you still with me?”
   “Right here. That was a good one.”
   Zara managed a tiny smirk, amazed her friend could still make jokes in such a disastrous situation. That’s what
friends were for, to lighten the mood. Even those considered nothing more than a metalloid gadget. She didn’t
know what she’d do without her.
   Zara closed her eyes, giving into the lull of rest. The nausea that threatened from the kaleidoscope of whirling
colors made her jerk back to attention.
   Blood stained the front of her flight suit. She gently prodded her stomach through the twin rips below her
right breast. Two gashes lay underneath, crimson against her fair skin. The wounds had already begun to clot
around the edges. No foreign objects protruded…or organs. Nothing to worry about, just nasty cuts from the
console touted as indestructible. If her condition were critical, she’d feel worse.
   Though her present symptoms didn’t provide a proverbial picnic. Zara flinched when her fingers located a
sensitive spot along her tenth rib. She’d have to dig out the medic kit once things were secure to patch herself
up. “Damage report.”
   “A fissure penetration of the outer hull. By my calculations, it runs the entire length of the ship. The impact
decreased the lower cargo bays to half their size. The system malfunctions that started this whole mess are still
evident. We have fuel vapors remaining—thanks to my idea—and one slightly injured pilot.”
   “Is it possible to fix?”
   “My scans indicate no mechanical systems equal to our own exist, nor any supply of energy directly compatible
with Prostene. In a word, no. In two…not likely.”
   “Thanks for the short version. I’m going to prove you wrong.”
   “You can try. Provided the handheld system still works, I think a medic scan is in short order.”
   Zara sighed, weighing their odds. The computer’s scanners hadn’t detected any signs of life nearby, which in
all likelihood meant she’d have to travel a vast distance to get supplies. If she was willing to divulge their
presence to fix the ship, was it okay to wish for help? Even if it meant going against everything she stood for?
   She decided not to answer the question. She’d gotten herself into this mess, and she’d get herself out. End
of story.
   Thoughts of the upcoming trek prompted her to rest her aching head against the padded cushion of the
seat. “After I catch my breath.” Her voice revealed her fatigue.
   “Sleep would not be advisable given your trauma.”
   “I don’t think I have much choice.” Zara’s thoughts clouded over with thick fog. Her eyes lost focus, then
fluttered shut. The waiting black void called out to her, enveloping her like the comfy blanket meticulously
folded on top of her cot.
   “I forgot to report one thing.”
   “What?” Zara questioned, fighting to form the single syllable.
   “My scanners indicate the people on this planet are hostile with a capital H.”
   A low murmur, the only indication that she’d heard the computer’s warning, wavered past her lips. Her
natural instinct to gather her weapon and prepare for the worst faded fast in the shroud of oblivion.
   A band tightened around her chest, making it impossible to fill her lungs with much-needed air. Breathing had
become an ordeal. The sounds of her harsh gasps seemed to come from far away.
   “Now we’re in trouble.” CHIRI’s gloomy prediction went unheeded.
   Zara slumped, unconscious in the ergonomic curve of her seat.

                                                                                *****
   A lone figure watched as the metallic speck descended far too quickly through the sky toward Daireben. A
strand of Awyn’s hair floated on a gust of wind that climbed the castle’s walls. The afternoon light gleamed off
his black armor as he squinted against the glare. Before the object had disappeared behind the outlaying hills,
he was down the stairs at a dead run, yelling orders for his troops to assemble.