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Short Ride In A Stealth Machine

RIV

I f Riv Sable had been superstitious and understood what this run to the shadow rim portended, he might have torn apart the sector altogether.

Still, he prided himself on being a meta who kept his word and solved problems with rational and factual logic.

He’d no time for illusory mythic notions and folklore.

Nevertheless, his meta instincts churned like a beacon in superstition’s night, a loaded foretelling packed with omens of foreboding.

The alarms in his corvette blared, triggered by a series of bizarre incidents.

Seen apart, they were astonishing. Together, they were a harbinger, a screaming warning of what was to come.

First, a single, high burst of energy, an ancient blazar, rocked the hull.

‘Tis the tail end of a flare flung into space billions of years earlier, catapulted from a supermassive black hole that consumed all existence around it,’ Mirage intoned.

The dark-skinned synthetic creature sat beside Riv at the helm of the Rider’s gunship, Glimmer.

The android construct, a node of the original AI that resided on Eden II, was an arresting sight. The figure blended masculine and feminine, evident in its short, shorn hair and a diamond-encrusted jumpsuit. Bright energy streams shimmered beneath its ebony skin, and its jade-green eyes shone with life and vitality.

‘Shall we take a closer look?’ the AI asked.

Riv shook his head, gazing with narrowed eyes at the fading phenomenon as inertia dampers took over, stabilizing their flight. ‘Carry on, nothing to see.’

Until they came across an unusual solo star that winked at them. The lone phenomenon, XTC 846285, dipped in brightness at irregular intervals and for odd lengths.

‘Some theories posit that it hides an alien mega-structure,’ Mirage murmured as they stared at it through the viewscreen. ‘Others believe the orb to be surrounded by an abnormal ring of diamonds. One that refracts light in shards of prismatic glory through time and space.’

Soon after, they chanced on a long stream of infrared brightness from a rare nonpareil 800 light-years away. It flared for hours before burning out - another unexplained mystery.

Last of all, someone was hunting them down.

Riv had scratched at the tickle of warning on the back of his neck for some time now.

Mirage soon confirmed his premonition. ‘We’re not alone. Tis good to have some company around in this lovely back-ass of nowhere, even though they’re a lurker.’

The AI delivered the statement with cheer, revealing a luminous white smile.

‘We’re never alone,’ Riv drawled, his rasped voice muted by the layers of cabling above his head as he lay under one of the bridge stations.

His hands twisted conduits into the ship’s ever-growing surveillance machinery. ‘For one, you’re always on my fokkin ’ back.’

Mirage bristled, a warning flashing across their stunning biometric eyes. ‘I mean, we have an outside escort.’

‘Do share.’

‘A small Galaxy skiff. Old. Maybe over thirty years old. It’s a junk boat that someone’s maintained on a regular basis for it to fly still. It probably can’t bolt into FTL with its deteriorating engine, so it’s most likely local to the System.’

‘Can you ID it?’

Mirage sucked their perfect android teeth. ‘It’s too far off and using a few defensive maneuvers. They’re dipping in and out of the asteroid belts, making it hard to catch its livery through our cams.’

The same cameras Riv used to scour the System’s hundreds of millions of IDs for one single face.

‘How long have they been tracking us?’ The Rider stirred under the conduits, his mind swirling with more questions than answers.

‘Since we left Zion Three and the Sarisian jump gates. They were waiting for us on this side of the hop. I thought they’d peel off and head towards Torrens 19 a day ago, but they’ve kept hot on our tail.’

‘Huh,’ Riv grunted.

‘We could go stealth.’

Riv shifted, tightening a bolt. ‘The thing is, do we want to engage or wait to see where they lead us? What are you in the mood for?’

‘Thrill of the chase, Riv. Let’s see how far they will come for whatever they’re after.’

The Rider gave Mirage’s idea some thought, pausing his screwing in. ‘Agreed. Not in the headspace for a shit fight today. Let’s fly like we’ve no care in the world and keep whomever it is confident that we’ve not seen them. I also need to repair this EPS conduit damage and get a bypass on the adjacent plasma relay. All before we land at Neron N13.’

‘If you can’t handle it, I can send a bot,’ the AI snarked.

‘ Fokk you,’ Riv murmured. ‘What’s the latest on Ankis?’

‘Last I data crunched, he swung by Neron N13 not so long ago. He’s not far ahead of us. A few weeks, tops.’

The notorious and elusive man with oscillating facial planes and body was the fundamental basis for their journey to the farthest extents of Pegasi.

He’d masterminded a coup attempt on Eden II after taking over Falasia’s military to undermine System-wide peace.

Zane Sable and his Rider brothers, including Riv, foiled the attack, but their quarry beamed off the moon rock before being captured.

The outraged government officials of Rhesia, Galicia, Falasia, and Eden II tasked Riv with finding him, no matter how far it took him. He was to report back to The Sable Group, Kainan, and Zane.

‘ Sawa,’ he capitulated . ‘I’mma need to get some chow. Send over the telemetry of that craft. I’ll have a look at it while I eat.’

Later, Riv sat on the floor of his galley deck.

Back to the wall, one knee up, chowing down on a food ration pack, he studied the ship on-screen on the prominent screen above him.

Riv lifted a finger to zoom in on the vision.

Staring at the holo, he focused on the front and partial starboard of the vessel, which were the only angles they’d captured, and felt a shiver run through him.

‘Mirage, drop a drone camera, camouflage it as a space rock. See what we capture when they blast past.’

‘Noted,’ the AI intoned.

Sitting back, Riv frowned at the open packing boxes, overflowing with piles of servers, wires, and transmitters scattered on the floor.

He sighed at his long, self-imposed list of things to do.

He was not obligated to get to them, as Glimmer retained in-house bots to cover ship maintenance. At the same time, Mirage monitored the antimatter containment shield around the clock.

But Riv relished playing engineer, fixing minor outages and messing about with improvements.

His projects were endless; on occasion, he volunteered for risky spacewalks to fiddle with the solar sails and sensor array and inspect the hull’s integrity.

The tinkering also gave him some distraction and relief from his true obsession, which had consumed him for over twenty years.

One subsumed in the compulsive sifting through hours of footage, millions of forms, faces, and identikits year after year.

Searching for her and only her.

Riv stepped into his ready room as they coasted closer to the asteroid.

Gazing into the plex mirror that took over one wall, he sent a series of commands to his metanoids.

Moments later, his appearance altered.

Gone was the renegade, who drew people’s eyes with his uncharacteristic long silver hair, bracing white irised eyes, and cryptic smile.

Erased was the kinai with a dangerous edge who bowed to no individual, yet somehow managed to enthrall with a quick wit and dry humor.

Absent was the smooth-tongued poet, the weapons specialist, the hacker, and the artful Edenite meta-warrior in equal measure.

Instead, his locks went up in a bun as they changed into a blue-black and silver hue.

He teased his beard into the same color.

His eyes altered to navy.

He darkened his skin to match that of the desert nomads of Northern Galicia.

He shifted the planes of his face to appear much older and more grizzled, then slipped into a space suit.

Torn and frayed in places, it affected a rundown look when, in fact, it was yet another layer of his disguise, for it had all the bells and whistles of a Sable meta uniform.

Standing in place of the former Rider was now a hoary and weathered individual—an unobtrusive worker who’d melt into any crowd and remain unforgettable to even the keenest mind.

‘Tell me more about our destination,’ Riv drawled as the walked onto the bridge.

Mirage turned and raked their glittering eyes over his guise. ‘I like what you’ve done. Mediocre, bog standard, and pedestrian, my friend.’

‘That’s the idea.’

Swiveling back to face the viewscreen, the quantum android continued. ‘Neron N13 is a fueling station masquerading as an asteroid. Originally built as a mining platform, it’s now a hidden stop for those in the know. ‘Tis what makes it perfect for kinais in desperate need of a hideaway.’

‘Isn’t it a way-point beacon, funded by the profits from pit excavations, illegal and otherwise?’

‘ Naam . Its outer shell has a passive watchtower, emitting a low-power warning when other ships and radio signals approach. The alert enlightens travelers of the perilous roiling nebula cluster ahead.’

‘Looks hardy,’ Riv murmured, peering at the station as they drew closer.

‘Tis. The builders of Neron N13 designed it as a rugged base to survive asteroid showers and solar flares. Its initial owners long stripped it of most equipment, or at least what was expensive and easy to transport, leaving an empty hulk. But not a dead one - its current residents have access to essential kit they’ve maintained to keep life systems going.’

‘I imagine it’s another hellhole packed with drunken miners and intoxicated engineers.’

‘That too. It’s a refueling depot for many pitmen and pirates, offering a few scant amenities. From a seedy asteroid motel to three watering holes, a bijou market, and food stalls. The station even has a hydroponic garden. A pirate consortium also runs a mingy brothel.’

‘So you think we’ll be able to find Ankis in there?’ Riv called out as he pulled together a getaway satchel.

‘Tis his last recorded stop. To find him or any word of him, you may need to comb through the five hundred kinais who call the place home and crowd its rabbit warrens of tunnels and through-ways.’

‘Or we’ll try a tavern, where I’m sure the sector’s notorious crims gather alongside traders peddling a plethora of illicit luxuries.

Mirage grunted. ‘I hear Neron N13 has some of the most infamous bootlegged ‘hol, koko, and top-quality rehydrated chow.’

‘You know this, how?’

‘I charmed the station AI who’s been whispering in my ear since we got into its orbit.’

‘They decent?’

Good enough. They run the docking and flight operations, making the place self-sufficient. When needed, it sends out drones to update any required new firmware and complete all repairs. I appreciate how generous they were with all the data on the best taverns, hotels, and sources of information you’ll need. Had to use some charm, though.’

‘Do AIs flirt?’ Riv wanted to know with a smirk on his lips.

‘Fokk off, Rider. Even if we did, I wouldn’t tell you. What I will clue you up on is that the Galaxy skiff has landed.’

‘Where?’

‘At a lower fee loading dock, one of the many clustered on the outer rim. Up close, it seems to be a four-passenger transport.’

‘Show me.’

Mirage sent an image to his node.

Riv ran his eye over its frame.

It had a sleek, teardrop-shaped hull with the sweeping wings of a former luxury cruiser.

While once a beauty, its age now showed in the dull finish, exposed access grills, and discolored engine rigging. The rail gun battle slashes across its rigging, indicating that the boat was a product of turbulent times.

It was also toothless, stripped of its original issue top-mounted laser cannons.

From the schematics rotating on Mirage’s holo, Riv guessed the ship was spacious despite its compact size.

Mirage’s telemetry included its power source stats. ‘Turns out it has an older model 0.2 hyperdrive that had been swift back in the day, but would now classify it as a clunker.’

‘I wonder how well it flies now and, of more significance, who is flying her?’ he murmured to no one in particular.

Mirage shrugged.

‘Any eyes on the pilot?’ Riv continued.

Mirage nodded. ‘I’ve hacked the cameras, but all I’ve caught is this.’

Footage shimmered on the screen of his comm tab. Riv threw the vision into a holo projection. It revealed a dark figure wearing a cloak.

They pulled their hood closer to their face as they approached the camera and hid their features.

‘They’re being cautious,’ the AI mused.

‘It’s what I’d do on Neron N13.’

Turning away from the holo, the Rider nabbed his cross-body satchel, throwing it on.

‘Wish me luck,’ he murmured, sliding down a plexiglass staircase towards Glimmer’s bay.

Mirage waggled their fingers, eyes glued to the holo. ‘Stay safe out there.’

‘ Sante . Always.’

Riv stepped into his gunship’s hold and boarded his waiting flyer.

Earlier, Mirage had hacked the station’s AI, giving it the impression that his gunship was set down on the rock. To any onlooker’s best knowledge, Glimmer was a small, nondescript cruiser with Rubens-097 sublight engines of Galician origin parked at the station.

In reality, the Sable-designed stealth craft was hovering a few klicks away from the asteroid.

They’d broadcast the same data to all neighboring ships.

Inside Glimmer’s hold, Riv stealthed his smaller vessel. When his flyer’s shield mode matched the giant gunship’s, the bay doors opened, and he slid into outer space, heading for the asteroid.

After a careful check, he landed behind the external mooring area. He left Glimmer Junior hidden and cloaked before prowling towards the atmosphere-controlled bay.

He checked in. You there, Mirage?

Reading you loud and clear.

Eyes on me at all times, please.

Always.

Riv consulted the travel guide loaded into his nodes.

He headed for the inner rings of the rocky body where the map led to the marketplace, the hub of all things illegal in the outer rim of Pegasi.

The travelogue revealed that Neron N13, once famed for its rare mineral resources, was among the most arcane outposts in its corner of the System.

Its obscurity was its strength. What it lacked in policing and central administrative functions, it made up for in street justice.

It was a lawless place rife with cheaters, outlaws, degenerates, pirates, thieves, and cold-blooded stalkers.

Here, fierce battles erupted between rival pirate gangs. Protracted wars played out among rebel factions of Alloria and Falasia, who took their skirmishes off the planet and onto any patch that gave them the opportunity.

Assassins, from skilled shikari to low-hanging fruit opportunists, cased the locus for their prey, as did debt collectors and bounty hunters such as himself.

On Neron N13, its pessimistic residents, who lived in burrowed-out chambers in the asteroid, had given up on the sheer difficulty of taming the planetoid.

They’d resorted to hiring stalwart bodyguards, most of them Ccyth defenders, to protect them. They parted with a pretty schill to keep trading their jewels and raw mineral resources.

But their biggest strengths were their weapons-making, blacksmithing, and legendary beer-brewing techniques. The former drew the punters. The latter kept them there.

He strolled along, keeping a watch on the rough-looking miners who mobbed the place and were quick to start fights for no reason.

They paid him no mind, given that he mimicked them: hardened, worn, cynical, uninteresting.

Some even gave him nods, which he returned.

If he’d shown up as a Sable Rider, with his flowing silver hair and the glowing eyes of a meta, he’d have caused a small riot.

Rumors of the Sable Riders were rife in the backwaters of the galaxy, where they took on mythical and quite twisted proportions.

Superstition abounded on Pegasi’s lonelier edges, and many here feared the unknown factor of metas, clinging onto the sparse information, opinionated news, and bias filtered through.

So, for the most part, Riv kept to himself, camouflaged as a forgettable face, happy to be dismissed the second one turned their eyes away from him.

Soon, he was striding through a busy marketplace bustling with the sounds of commerce and loud conversations between hawkers and their customers. Intermingled with the smells of food and rich brew

He spotted a mix of Allorians, Falasians, and Iccythrians, plus a few Edenites dressed in a jumble of space suits, elaborate robes, and colorful cloaks.

The Ccyth stood out with their bejeweled faces, diamond-encrusted hair, and flowing gem-studded over garments.

Riv ID’d some of the Ccyth from his past Sable Rider dealings, but with his disguise in place, none over garments him back.

He used his commtab to confirm Mirage’s research on the nearest bar with the most reviews, check-ins, and propensity for info bartering.

He found it to be ‘ The Righteous Pegasus ’.

Snorting at the paradox of its moniker, he strode towards the location.