Chapter Text
The control stick in Ella's hand snatched as the frag cannon blast rocked the Demimel. Her grip tightened automatically even as she narrowed her eyes against the flare of light that flooded the bridge. Data reeled up the side of her viewport; co-ordinates and speed… and the rapidly narrowing distance between her and the pursuing Command Carrier. Lights flashed, indicating that the Carrier had reacquired her position. She clenched her jaw and wrenched at the controls, throwing her ship into a sharp manoeuvre that the clumsier vessel was unable to follow.
Ella knew that she had bought herself only a little time, but she hoped it would be enough to power up the hyperdrive - and make the necessary computations. Tension knotted her shoulders; the pressing need to be elsewhere almost overwhelming her. The Carrier was an unnecessary distraction but she banked the irritation that she felt, knowing that it could cause her to make mistakes.
She couldn't afford to err now; not when his life depended on her.
Thinking of him didn't particularly help her focus, but then several white dots appeared on her scanner as the Carrier deploys several Prowler fighters to join in the pursuit and distracted her from that line of thought.
"Oh, frell it all," she muttered, and redirected the precious power from the charging drive to the Demimel's defences. Eight cycles spent subverting Peacekeeper embargoes meant that though Ella usually managed to avoid such altercations, she'd also had plenty of practice at escaping their ships when she got involved in a pursuit.
The power to the engines fell in a dying whine and the ship slowed exponentially. As soon as the dampening net was charged, she switched the power back to the hyperdrive and checked her position. She was on the wrong frelling vector, moving ever further in the opposite direction to the one she wanted to be travelling. Her mouth twisted in frustration and concern, but there was nothing she could do now other than deal with the situation at hand.
"Demi," she said, addressing her ship's AI. "Mark the prowlers at three hundred metras."
"Five hundred and closing," the AI reported in its metallic voice. "Targets will be in range in approximately one twenty microts."
"Have you the co-ordinates of the transmission source?"
"Affirmative."
"Good."
Ella watched the dots that represented the Prowlers come closer. It would be quicker to shoot the ships down, but the Demimel had not been built with such conventional weaponry because killing was something that the Peacekeepers did, and Ella had left that life a long time ago.
"At one twenty metras in ten microts," Demi announced. "Nine, eight, seven-"
Pulling the harness around her torso, Ella closed the buckle and braced herself in the pilot's seat.
"Three, two, and in range now."
"Deploy the dampening net."
Ella watched a blue circle expand from the avatar representing her ship on the scanner. The dampening net was little more than an adapted electromagnetic pulse, but it worked without fail and the Prowlers' dots stopped dead in space.
"Targets neutralised," the AI reported duly.
Ella nodded distantly; too involved in making the last few preparations for the flight through hyperspace to feel any sense of victory. "Let's make the jump while they're out of commission."
"Affirmative," the AI replied and there was a sudden jerk as her ship accelerated that pushed Ella into the padding of her seat. The drive tore a hole in space ahead of the vessel and it dived in the void.
Flying through sub-space was always a turbulent event and Ella had to grip the trembling control stick with both hands in order to keep the ship straight. She knew that any deviation from the vector that Demi had supplied would result in enough stress to pull the vessel apart. There were reasons that the Peacekeepers had outlawed the use of hyperdrive devices, but as far as she was concerned, the gains vastly outweighed the risks.
The navigational display changed, going from the region of space the Demimel just left to where the communication the AI intercepted almost an arn ago had been transmitted from; the area Ella had been headed towards before the Carrier had rudely interrupted her progress. There was an unusual amount of chatter, none of it scrambled, and 'the command carrier is collapsing in on itself!' made Ella's blood run cold and check their ETA.
"Frell," she muttered and then chanted the word several times under her breath. Her hands shook and not from the strain of holding the ship on course; her greatest fear was in the process of coming true and it seemed there was nothing that she could do to prevent it doing so.
With a whispered prayer that she wasn't going to be too late, Ella threw the drive switch and made the exit from sub-space, a shudder wracking the ship as it dropped back into normal space. The white of the viewscreen darkened to black speckled with stars and an expected dust cloud full of drifting debris. She raised the shields quickly and then glanced at the scanner.
"Demi, where's all this coming-" Her words died as the Demimel entered the centre of the cloud and she saw it.
The Carrier did not look anything like it should; the ship had been reduced to just the skeleton of its exterior hull and the remaining metal glowed in the aftermath of what must have been a massive explosion. Its destruction is clearly where the debris has come from and Ella stared at wreckage in stunned disbelief, shock slackening her grip on the control stick.
Automatically, she glanced down at the scanner, but there was no sign of any life left aboard the ship, nor in the space surrounding it. Horror and nausea hit Ella and she had to swallow against the rise of bile. The fear that he might have died here is a knot in her stomach.
"Is there-" Her throat closed over, choking her. "Demi, is there anything on long-range?"
"There are traces of ionised particles reminiscent of those created by Starburst," the AI reported. "But they are not on the long-range scanner. The energy signature originates within the Carrier."
Ella froze in her seat, her eyes widening as she stared at the wrecked ship. "Within the Carrier?" she echoed incredulously. She passed a hand over her face. "What the frell has that man done?"
It was a rhetorical question, since she had worked out what had happened, but the AI decided to answer her anyway. "Calculations of the residue heat indicate that the Starburst was the catalyst of the destruction," the computer said. "Perhaps it was an error or malfunction?"
Expelling air through her nose in a derisive snort, Ella shook her head in denial. "No," she said in a tone cool with irritation. "I am fairly sure it was deliberate."
"Initiating Starburst inside a hanger is tantamount to suicide."
"Yes." She swallowed hard. "I think that was rather the point. I just don't know why."
"I am not reading enough debris to indicate that the Leviathan was destroyed," the AI said then. "In fact… Yes, I was right; there is a trace trail. I am calculating the vector now."
A trace, a slim chance… but still enough that Ella found herself suddenly short of breath. She folded her arms over her abdomen in an attempt to still the churning of her stomach and closed her eyes as she waited. Please, she thought and squeezed her eyes tighter as tears stung the lids. Please let it not be too late after all.
Microts seemed to lengthen, the time measured by the suddenly hard beating of her heart. She tasted blood in her mouth from where her clenched teeth had cut into her tongue. There was pain in her palms from the fingernails that dug into the flesh.
"Demi?" she whispered when the tension became too much to bear.
The viewscreen changed to display the region of space. The Carrier's avatar was central and calculations scrolled up the side of the screen. "The trail is very faint," the AI told Ella. "But I believe I have a vector."
It came up as a thin blue line that emerged from the Carrier, the trajectory straight before the line dissolved into nothingness.
"Can you calibrate co-ordinates?"
"I have initiated long-range scans and there is something on that vector. It could be the Leviathan, but I cannot guarantee it."
"Never mind that," Ella dismissed. "Take those co-ordinates and activate the auto-pilot. Maximum speed, Demi ��" we have to find that ship."
"As you wish," said the computer and the engines roared to full power.
Ella released the control stick and let the computer take control, too wound up to think straight, never mind manage anything as technical as flying the ship. But not doing anything left her free to recall distant memories and the first that came to mind was the recollection of their first meeting...
The officers' lounge is somewhat chaotic; full of rowdy pilots that make the most of the lenience is the reward for their success by getting stupidly drunk. It is the last place that she wants to be, but orders are orders and she doesn't have a choice.
The raslak is really flowing, so she is not surprised when one of the pilots decides that she is fair game and feels her up; such attention is commonplace and she is used to politely fending off propositions. This time however the pilot, one Lentas Niel, is very persistent to the point she is starting to feel somewhat threatened when suddenly an officer chooses to interfere.
"Leave her alone," the man orders as he drags Niel away. With a gap in the crowd, she recognises her 'saviour' as Bialar Crais, a lieutenant who has quite the reputation. He speaks in a low, flat voice that doesn't sound overly dangerous, but Ella feels herself freeze even though she has done nothing wrong
But the pilot is too drunk to realise the iron beneath the tone, is possibly too drunk to even register that the person who has spoken to him is an officer. "Get the frell off," he snarls, only for the shocked silence that falls to finally alert him to the situation.
His expression is priceless and she is almost amused, but being at the centre of attention is not comfortable and she feels embarrassed and awkward. Crais, of course, has not noticed, is still intent on the drunken pilots. "Out," he says, still in that deadly quiet voice. "You're a disgrace to your regiment. Get out and go sober up." As the pilots begin to shuffle out, he turns back and she finds herself the object of his scrutiny. She almost wishes she was dealing with Niel again.
"Are you alright?" he asks, which is frankly a stupid question and she cannot help but glare at him, furious at his interference.
"I was," she tells him in a tart voice that clearly surprises him. "Before you attracted the attention of the entire lounge."
He glances round and seems to become aware of the startled stares. She sees his eyes narrow as he considers his next move. Then he grabs her arm and proceeds to drag her from of the lounge, oblivious to her loud protests. He only releases her once they are out in the corridor and alone.
Ignoring the glare she gives him, he says simply, "You ought to be more careful."
"I could have handled him," she snaps, irritated by his attitude. "With a few words and a smile. Now he is going to want to make me pay for your interference."
Crais is taken aback by her tone. "Do you not know who I am?" he asks, his tone incredulous.
"You're an officer," she dismisses. "That's all I need to know since every officer act like he is High Command's gift to us lesser ranks."
His expression darkens and he grabs her arm again. His fingers dig in and she winces. "That is downright insubordination!"
He is taller than Ella by a head and she has to tilt her head to meet his eyes. "No," she replies evenly despite the sudden wild beating of her heart. "It's the truth. Officers think they are so impressive, but this fine and mighty Carrier would fall apart if it was not for Techs."
She thinks that he will hit her now, expects him to, so when he blinks rapidly and then lets her go, she is surprised. Crais looks at her again, his expression now bewildered.
"I see," he says slowly, as if that is all he can manage. His uncertainty gives her a boost of confidence and she tosses her head with a sniff.
"So thank you for your… help Lieutenant," she continues coolly, "but next time I'd rather deal with idiotic pilots by myself and in my own way."
With that, she offers him a tight smile and walks away.
"Bialar." His voice stops her just short of the turn in the corridor. She glances over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised, and he gives her a lopsided grin. "My name is Bialar."
It's not what she was expecting, but it makes her smile.
"I know."
The beeping of the proximity alarm brought Ella sharply back to the present. She looked up at the viewport to see that her ship was now deep inside a nebula; the purple and blue swirls of a dust cloud that was interlaced with veins of vivid pink gas.
She sat forward in her seat and scanned shifting cloud for some sign of what set the siren off. Her palms were damp with nervous sweat, and she wiped them down her trousers before chewing distractedly at one thumb.
"I have a visual," the AI reported and the viewscreen changed as the computer zoomed in on a section of the nebula, revealing the ship they have been looking for.
However, Ella was in no way prepared for the level of damage and a low cry escaped her at the sight of the severely burnt hull. The scarring almost obliterated the red-and-black colouring that made the Leviathan unlike any other. Still, the hybrid was familiar enough to dry her mouth.
"Talyn," she said softly as her eyes filled, mercifully blurring her vision. "Demi, is there-- is there any sign of life?"
"I am picking up faint traces," the AI replied.
"And?" she cut in impatiently.
"As well as the hybrid's consciousness, I am reading one Sebacean life signal."
She collapsed against the chair back, overwhelmed with relief. The temptation to break down made her eyes burn for several microts, but she knew that she had to remain focused. She heaved in a deep breath.
"Is there anything on the long-range scanners? Anything Peacekeeper, I mean."
"Negative," the computer replied. "Nor am I detecting any communications."
"Good," Ella said and sat straight again. "Lock on to the Leviathan."
There was a low hum through the bridge as the AI duly activated the docking shield and she felt the shift of her ship drawing alongside that of the damaged hybrid.
"Status?" she asked then.
"The hybrid is relativity stable, but the Sebacean is fading rapidly."
She will not panic; that will not achieve anything. Licking her lips, she undid her harness and stood up. Her muscles ached from being sat for so long. She stretched quickly and headed off the bridge.
"I'm not prepared to let him die," she told the computer as she strode down the corridor. She shrugged a shoulder. "Either of them, but while the hybrid is stable… I'm going over. Would you prep the infirmary whilst I collect him?"
"Yes, of course."
"Thanks."
Now at the hanger, Ella boarded the transport pod and tried not to think about what awaited her on the Leviathan. She had entertained many fantasies about finding him over the cycles; the irony that the current scenario being the one that would wake her up in a cold sweat. He was still important to her, even after everything she'd gone through and all the time that had passed.
She shuddered and shook herself. She sat at the controls of the transport pod and fired up the engines. The craft lifted off under her direction and she flew it out of the hanger bay and across the intervening gap to where Talyn floated dead in space.