Regi opened his radio channel and was inundated with dozens of flight commanders sending their fighters against the pirates. The Kowri pilots were superior, but Regi heard the panic in their voices when they encountered Belfin mines that could burrow through the skin of their fighters before the pilots knew they were there. Kowri were unused to fighting such tactics.
Regi knew that it was blasphemy to request his goddess to intervene, but there was a tiny part of him that hoped she would, even if he dare not ask it of her. Instead, he watched the Gavd ships stand back-to-back like two crippled pebafri flailing with hooves and fangs at an enemy they couldn't quite touch.
A flight of pirate fighters swooped in to take out a formation of Kowri, but without cause, the pirates began to flee back to their main ships. As Regi’s small ship completed another slow arc, he watched shuttles and evacuation pods shoot off from two of the pirate ships like pollen in the breeze. The remaining four large ships swooped in to gather up as many individuals as they could.
Regi searched the data, but saw nothing on his controls to explain it.
“Support incoming. Support incoming. The gods’ second blessings upon us,” a Kowri called, their master code silencing all other voices.
Regi closed his eyes and imagined himself pressing his thumbs against his temples in supplication even if the spacesuit did not give him enough range of motion to complete the act. He studied the stars and the navigational charts and the few functioning readouts that still flashed their purple numbers as he searched for whatever support everyone else saw.
The blue-black of space was warped into a prism of colors before something the size of a small planet drifted out of the center of the field. The rounded shape soon gave way to a central tower and a tall spire crest-ward and a cluster of crystals belly-ward.
Only one type of ship that Regi had ever read about matched the description. He had never seen it. Few Kowri had. This was not a Gavd ship that would travel from world to world. This was not a ship one might ask for passage on or that conducted business or logged routes.
This was the sole remaining Retav ship. The massive disc-shaped structure was better described as an artificial planet than a ship. This was the pride of the Lord of Retribution. All communications went silent, and the crystals at the bottom of the Retav ship began to glow a vivid teal before energy bursts shot out like the sparks of a disrupted campfire.
Dozens of pirate ships exploded, their lives nothing more than flares against the black of space.
Regi's hair stood on end. This was not a Gavd ship in search of justice. This was the home of the Lord of Retribution. This was the embodiment of Kowri vengeance.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“We have help inbound,” Ter said. “The pirates are fleeing.”
“Thank God or Divashi or whoever is responsible,” Dante said. “Regi, are you there?” Dante asked even as he hurried toward what he thought was the temple.
Vk's voice came over the radio. “Dante, is that a planet?”
“Obviously not,” Ter said with disdain. “You have too many fat cells that have settled between the synapses of your brain. The readings indicate that is a ship, and it only possesses radial symmetry, not the spherical shape of any natural planetary body.”
“A planet-sized ship, and from here it looks round,” Vk said.
When Regi's voice came through the radio, a relief so complete it stole the strength from his legs washed through Dante. “It’s a Retav ship, dedicated to the God of retribution,” he explained.
“Don't you think you should have mentioned that the Kowri people possessed something that large?” Ter's voice had a sharp edge to it, a clipped tone, which was ironic because he hadn’t shown that much caution around the many Kowri who had called for his imprisonment or execution. He wondered how large the ship was.
“I've never seen the Retav ship,” Regi said. “Few Kowri ever do.”
“Look, we can discuss the Kowri habit of hiding huge pieces of technology later,” Dante said. “Regi, where are you and howdo we rendezvous?” As much as Dante found pleasure in hearing Regi's voice, he wouldn't feel safe until they were standing side-by-side where any bad luck of the gods would strike them equally.
“I'm afraid I am unable to reach you right now,” Regi said.
The hair on the back of Dante's neck stood on end. “Why?" he asked, fear making him drawl the word out to unnatural lengths.
“That didn't translate, so whatever strange thing you did with your mouth, you asymmetrical abomination, don't do it again,” Ter snapped. Someone was in a bad mood.
Dante rested his hand against the nearest wall and closed his eyes. Right, no drawling. “Why can’t you meet me?” Dante asked. “Are you on the ship with Vk? Is there a problem over there?”
Regi was silent for several minutes, so Vk answered. “He is in a small fighter that is damaged and without fuel. He is drifting toward untrackable space.”
Fear clawed at Dante’s chest, and his heart beat fast enough to be painful. “Why ‘untrackable’?”
“Because our sensors do not extend toward infinity,” Vk said, and she was almost as terse as Ter. “If he continues on his current trajectory, in an hour he will be outside our ability to track him.”
“Are rescue ships enroute?” Dante prayed with a fervor he had not possessed in many years.
“Technically, yes,” Vk said. There was a long pause and then a click and another long pause filled with the faint mutterings of colorful, scatological curses from Ter.
