A giant flying fish floated down from the sky and landed silently in a clearing next to the encampment where Bailey Barley was standing watch. Young Bailey, just 14 years of age and on his first mission as a squire, stood mouth agape as the thing came into view. It had started as a blue dot in the sky before it came into focus as a flying fish. At first, he’d thought he was dreaming, and pinched himself, hard. The last thing he wanted to do was be found sleeping on his first watch. But this was not a dream. The strange fish was apparently real.
Once it was on the ground, Bailey could make out the details more clearly. There was a faint glow in a band at the front of the head and it had armored skin that was shiny and green. The way the armor plates overlapped reminded Bailey of Sir Reginald’s platemail. The fish’s eyes were two black spheres, one on each side of its head, and each one with a trio of tubes emerging from the center. There were six massive fins, two on top and four on the bottom that had dangled below it before folding up as it settled onto the ground. Bailey noticed that the thing’s mouth was open, and a faint mist was emerging from the opening.
Bailey Barley was the fifth son of a minor noble in the Kingdom of Aldonia. The Barley family had enough connections to keep Bailey out of the general army, but little enough that he’d have to make his own name in the world. He became squire to Sir Reginald of Rhelia, an older gentleman just past his prime. He was well respected by the King, even if many of the other knights of the realm thought he should consider retirement. Sir Reginald was capable enough to maintain his position, but not so extraordinary that he excelled among his peers. Truth be told, Sir Reginald had a preference to read a good book in front of a fire with his feet up and a tot of brandy.
That was the lot that Bailey had been handed, and though it was not the easiest life, he endeavored to make the most of it and perform his duty to the best of his ability. Perhaps one day, if he kept pushing himself, he’d be recognized for his efforts. Perhaps he’d earn a knighthood of his own.
“What manner of strange beast art thou?” Bailey asked out loud as he stared at the fish creature. He self-consciously looked back to the camp, noticing that none of the others had risen. He was new to his squirehood, and wanted to impress Sir Reginald. Surely, someone should take a closer look at the creature. Bailey wondered if he should rouse the camp or investigate on his own?
“Bravery, Bailey, tis chief among virtues,” the squire told himself. He often spoke to himself when he thought he was alone, something the other squires teased him about. He’d prove himself, for sure. That was the way forward. Bailey checked that his blade was loose in its scabbard and pulled his gloves on tight.
“Tally ho,” Bailey said, and marched towards the fish, which remained unmoving this entire time.
As he got closer, Bailey saw that the thing was not a creature at all. The plates that made up its body were, indeed, metal, and secured with rivets all around. The band of light at the front of the thing was a pane of some kind of dark glass. And there were strange lights at various points around the body, like lanterns that were secured inside the outer skin, glowing green and red. As Bailey completed a full circuit, he saw that the “mouth” of the thing was a pathway that led up into an open interior. Was this some kind of sky carriage? It moved through the air but did not have wings like a bird. Was it driven by magic? Was there anyone inside? And did they intend good or ill?
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Bailey said, his voice shaky. “Tis up to me.” Screwing up his courage, Bailey walked up the platform and into the unknown.
It took a moment for Bailey’s eyes to adjust to the darkness within the metal fish, so he was more attuned to his other senses. He first felt the coldness of the interior and smelled the odd scent on the air – which felt too close and tinged with something that tickled the back of his throat. His ears picked out two distinct sounds, a general pulsing hum that rattles his teeth and a series of ongoing beeps and toots. When his eyes did acclimate to the low light, he looked around in amazement at what he saw.
First, everything seemed to be made out of metal. The smith work and craftsmanship that must have gone into building this thing was incredible. At the top of the ramp was a large room with all sorts of straps and netting on either side. Several metal boxes were stacked up and held in place with the nets. In the corner was an odd looking carriage. It was metal with small wheels and a wide pronged fork on the front which Bailey surmised was where the horse or ox was hooked up to pull the thing.
What really drew his attention were the lights. It was dim overall within the metal fish, but there were lights everywhere. Lines of light along the bottom of the wall. Glowing red lines outlining the area where the metal boxes were stacked. And at the far end of the room, lights illuminating each step of a staircase that went up. Beside the ramp was a small panel with more lights. Three rows across and three down in white with green and red lights side by side below. The green light was flashing and Bailey reached out to touch it and found it had slight give. He pressed it down, and when he did, the entire ramp lifted up and closed, trapping him inside.
Bailey immediately began to sweat and looked around frantically. He mashed on the lights over and over, but all he managed to get were some terrible screeching noises. What had he done? Dropping to his knees, he tried to pry up the edge of the platform. He pushed down with all his might. But to no avail. Bailey was trapped inside this giant metal fish.
“Keep your wits, Bailey,” he said to himself. “Panic never wins the day.”
So the boy looked for other exits. There was only one he could see – the lighted stairs that led up to a gangplank and a closed metal door. There was also a ladder next to the door, but Bailey decided to try the door first, which he realized upon closer inspection had no handle. Bailey tried pushing the door to no effect. Then he saw the same panel as he had found by the “mouth” ramp. Nine white lights with red and green ones below. The green light had closed the ramp door, not opened it, but for some reason it was the one he was drawn to, now. So, trusting his gut, he pressed it. To his relief, the door slid open.
The room beyond was relatively small, with four desks situated around a central chair on a raised dais of some sort. Each of the desks was covered in twinkling lights and shiny glass panels and they all faced toward a floor to ceiling window taking up the entire wall opposite the door. Bailey could clearly see the camp through the window. He walked up to one of the desks at the front of the room and studied it. The surface of the desk was mesmerizing, with swirling patterns and glowing circles and glyphs in strange shapes.
“What are you doing here?” a gruff voice behind Bailey asked.
Bailey spun around, nearly falling over but catching himself on the desk. His hand mashed down on several of the lights and Bailey felt a rumbling noise from somewhere deep within the fish. A disembodied female voice from above said, “Launch sequence activated. Countdown to launch in tee minus three minutes.”
The man with the gruff voice’s eyes went wide and he rushed over towards Bailey, shoving him out of the way and pressing several of the lights on the desk in rapid succession. He also spoke several expletives that Bailey blushed to hear.
“I’m sorry, good sir. I did not mean to intrude.”
The man looked at Bailey and the two sized each other up. The man had short brown hair, a mustache with twirled ends, and wore clothing the likes of which Bailey had never seen. Strapped to his hip was a boxy metal implement – surely a weapon of some sort.
“You started the launch sequence, so I’m going to assume you’re here to steal my ship, and I’m not having that.” He pulled out the boxy weapon, which looked like a miniature crossbow with no bow, and leveled it at the young squire.
“I promise, sir, I had no intention of theft. But art thou saying this metal fish tis, indeed, a sky carriage? A ship of the air, if that tis even possible?”
“You talk weird, kid. Yeah, this is a ship. What else would it be? Are you an Alliance agent or independent? You’re certainly not dressed like Alliance,” he adds, looking Bailey over with disdain.
“I serve Sir Reginald of Rhelia, sworn protector of the Kingdom of Aldonia!” Bailey said, puffing out his chest. He reached for his sword, but the man aimed the weapon with renewed intent.
“Hold it right there before I blast you full of holes.” Bailey froze. “Quinn, Yasmin, get up here,” the man said after pressing one of the lights on the desk.
A few moments later, two additional people walked through the door. The first was an older man, about the same age as Sir Reginald if Bailey had to guess. He was bald with a big bushy beard and wore an eye patch over one eye. Bailey noticed he carried one of the same mini crossbow weapons as the first man. The second person was a woman with dark skin and hair. She wore colorful, flowing clothing, but her feet were bare. And when she blinked, Bailey noticed something weird happening with her eyelids, but he couldn’t place it.
“What’s happening, Captain? Who’s the kid?” the bald man asked.
The woman rushed over to the desk Bailey had fallen onto. “The launch sequence is started. Captain, I thought we were laying low.”
“That was the plan until Skippy here started us up.”
“It’s a sure thing that the Alliance patrol is gonna detect us,” said the bald man.
“Well, kid, what do you have to say for yourself?” The captain asked, waving around his crossbow.
“Sirs,” Bailey said, giving a small bow, “and madame, I am called Bailey Barley. I did not know this twas your sky ship, I twas merely exploring as it landed near my camp.”
The captain rolled his eyes. “Bailey? I’m Flint. This is Quinn, my first officer, and Yasmin, my pilot.”
“Pleased to make thine acquaintances,” Bailey bowed again.
“Oh boy. So you’re a local. Backwater, uneducated hick. Great. And you just had to climb into my boat and give away our position to the Alliance bastards in orbit?”
The ethereal female voice said, “Launch active. Tee minus sixty seconds.”
“Damn. We’d better get prepped. Yasmin, get everyone up here.
Bailey was confused. “I do not know of this Alliance. Are they enemies of the crown?”
Flint looked at Bailey with narrowed eyes. “They are enemies to everything good and humane, kid. The United Alliance of Planets is a farce. Tyrannical and evil. They rule with fear and violence. And we’re some of the few who stand up to them.” As if on cue, two more crew members come into the room. One a younger man with blonde hair and spectacles on his face and another odd creature with four arms and fur who swung in on a series of bars hanging from the ceiling.
“Quinn, secure young Bailey here.”
“My pleasure, sir,” Quinn said, moving towards Bailey and cracking his knuckles. The boy backed away and drew his sword. Quinn cocked an eyebrow.
“I am going to have to ask thee to stand down, sirs,” Bailey said, barely keeping his hand from shaking. “I know not thine general intentions nor whether thou art gentlemen or knaves. But if thou were hiding from some authority, I can only assume thine intentions are impure. I shall takest thou to Sir Reginald, and he will determine how to proceed.”
Quinn advanced a step and Flint put a hand on his shoulder. “Boy,” Flint said, “you have no idea. We’re what you call freedom fighters. We’re the good guys. Zoey here,” Flint indicated the four armed woman, “is one of the last of her people. The Alliance decimated her planet, strip mined it and left a nearly worthless rock behind. Harris’s sister was an Alliance officer until she was asked to bomb a defenseless village. When she refused, she was sent to a penal colony and Harris hasn’t heard from her or seen her since. Quinn’s family was murdered by Alliance troopers who were conscripting soldiers, and Yasmin, well, her story is so sad I can’t even tell it. The Alliance is bad, kid, and you just dropped us into their laps.” While Flint was talking, the crew didn’t hesitate to get to work. Each one sat at one of the desks, pulled straps from their chairs over their shoulders, and started pressing the lights on their desks.
Bailey swallowed. It was a lot to take in. A giant fish from the sky that was actually a flying ship. Some nefarious Alliance he’d never heard of. Freedom fighters. Was this some strange nightmare? Had he eaten some bad bread? Had Sir Reginald gotten him drunk again? Bailey backed up, his vision swimming. He found it hard to breathe and everything went dark on the edges.
He felt himself falling…
* * *
UNITED ALLIANCE OF PLANETS – SECTOR 12, UNAFFILIATED WORLD ZETA 3B
– PREDATOR CLASS PATROL SHIP UAS INQUISITOR
Captain Swanson stood with his gloved hands behind his back, watching the blue and green planet rotate through the bridge viewscreen. He wore the standard dark gray uniform of the Alliance, crisp, clean, and pressed. His boots had been shined to a mirror sheen, as was protocol, and his black hair was slicked back to stay within regulations. A pencil mustache adorned his lip under a hawkish nose.
Swanson was ever loyal to the Alliance, and he had climbed the ranks to his current position of captain. But he hated these backwater patrol missions. He often looked down on these primitive planets and wondered what they thought of the ships flying overhead. They probably had no clue. If it weren’t for the fact that he was on the trail of a rebel cell, he’d find a reason to cut this patrol short. But he had a good feeling about his current chase. He’d capture that scum Flint and see him put to trial for the traitor he was.
“Sir,” said one of the bridge officers. Swanson turned to face the man. “We’ve detected an unauthorized launch from the planet’s surface.”
Swanson smiled. “Scan it, and power up the forward batteries. I don’t want them to get away this time.” A flurry of activity ensued as the crew prepared the ship for battle.
“Sir, the ship matches the registry of the vessel responsible for the attack on outpost omicron seven last cycle. Designation: Lionfish.”
“Flint,” Swanson said, closing his fist. “Ready the tractor beam and prepare a boarding party. These rebels are not going to escape our grasp, gentlemen.”
A round of “Aye ayes” rose up from the bridge crew.
Swanson rubbed his gloves hands together and smiled wickedly.
* * *
The Lionfish burst through the atmosphere and into orbit, and as the ship completed its automated launch sequence, Yasmin deftly took over the controls.
“Alliance Predator dead ahead, Captain!” Quinn called out.
“It’s the Inquisitor, sir, and she’s powered up. She’s been waiting for us,” came the worried voice of Harris from the communications console.
Through the viewscreen, the looming shape of the Alliance ship was obvious. The reverse triangle design gave the forward profile of the ship the appearance of a bird of prey, hence the Predator designation. But what was more ominous was this particular ship – The Inquisitor – for that meant the Captain they were facing was none other than Orys Swanson, an accomplished soldier with a solid sense of space tactics. The Lionfish was outmatched in every category that mattered: firepower, defenses, speed. About the only thing that the smaller vessel had going was maneuverability, but that wasn’t going to do much good. Still, Flint couldn’t just give up.
“Zoey, warm up the cannons. Yas, evasive maneuvers. Quinn, get back to the engines and see what you can coax out of her.”
“We’re gonna make a run for it, Captain?”
Flint looked at Quinn, and the older man nodded. He knew they didn’t have a chance, but he was a good soldier.
“They’re hailing us, sir,” said Harris.
“Ignore it. I know what they’re going to say, anyway. Go back to the weapons locker and grab shock armor and carbines for everyone. Make sure everything is charged and primed.”
“Aye, Captain,” Harris swallowed hard. His face had gone a pale shade of green, but he stepped to it.
* * *
Watching all of this from the back of the small room, Bailey was paralyzed in shock. After he had embarrassingly fainted like a maiden, the crew had left him where he had fallen. He’d awoken to the horrifying scene out the window. The ship flew through the sky, and it appeared to have gone all the way to the heavens, where the stars and gods dwelt.
The ominous shape of The Inquisitor – another sky ship? – clearly concerned Flint and his crew, so Bailey took the opportunity of the distraction to sneak out of the room with the desks and back down the steps. He found a hiding spot amongst the boxes on either side of the first floor and winced at every bump and bang.
A few moments later, he was being tossed about, barely able to keep his feet, as the ship zipped and dodged. At the same time, he heard terrible screeching sounds and explosions. Bangs on the side of the hull like something huge was trying to break in. It was a wild ride for a few moments, then everything stopped.
Bailey looked out from the pile of boxes that he was now buried in. The stillness was eerie after the last few moments. Then chaos reigned again.
Captain Flint and his cohort came down the stairs, bearing arms and wearing strange armored vests. They took up positions around the room, hiding behind what they could for cover. Flint barking orders. The ship shuddered around them. Fire and sparks lit up the entry ramp and smoke filled the room. Loud bangs and hot flashes of light flew back and forth, and Bailey saw men in black armor run up the ramp, filling the room. Flint and crew opened fire with their crossbows, which shot out glowing flashes of light rather than arrows. Several of the armored men fell to the flashes, knocked off their feet from the force of the blasts. Those men, in turn, responded with their own light flashes. And a wild battle ensued.
But eventually, the flashes stopped. The shouting stopped. Everything stopped and Bailey watched as Captain Flint and the others were bound at the wrists and marched, or dragged, from the room.
Bailey waited for a long while before he moved. He was confused and scared. He had no idea what was going on or where he was.
“Bailey, thou art in training to be a knight. Have courage,” Bailey said to himself. But it didn’t help. He didn’t know how long he sat there, rocking back and forth with his knees to his chest.
Eventually, he gathered enough courage to move. He edged over to the open ramp and peered out. He was in a cavernous room, bigger than anything he’d ever seen in his life. The room was lit by strange glowing bars set into the ceiling. As with the fish ship, everything here was metal. There were carriages similar to the one with the fork that was in the fish ship, plus larger boxy carriages with no wheels and large fins. How had they gotten here? And where was “here,” anyway? Last Bailey had seen, they were flying into the heavens towards the other sky ship. Was it possible they were inside that sky ship? If so, it must be the size of a castle. Was that possible? A flying castle? Surely this was the result of powerful magic, indeed. Bailey shuddered at the thought.
Bailey tiptoed out of the mouth of the fish ship and across to one side of the huge room. He heard footsteps and instinctively hid behind some boxes. He saw two men, covered from head to toe in black lacquered armor – the same as the ones who had earlier assaulted the ship and captured Captain Flint and his crew. He held his breath as they passed.
Bailey looked around for a doorway, but the only one he saw was guarded by two more of the black-clad men. He looked around for some way out, nearly panicking.
But then he spied a grate in the floor, and realized there was a small tunnel running under the floor. It was a tight fit, but Bailey was small and was just able to squeeze down the shaft. Not knowing where he was going, Bailey slithered down the tube. He didn’t know how far he’d gone, but after a few twists and turns, he found another grate and carefully popped his head out to look around.
He heard some footsteps coming closer and frantically looked around, but couldn’t place which direction they were coming from. He was in some kind of corridor, with an intersection right ahead of him. He tried to pop back down into the tunnel but realized he was stuck. Bailey started to sweat. What if these men found him? Surely they wouldn’t take kindly to him sneaking around. That was the act of a villain. As he struggled, the footsteps got louder and louder. He heard talking, but couldn’t make out the words. Finally, Bailey managed to wrench one arm free, then the other, and hauled himself up onto the floor.
Breathing hard, he looked around. He had nowhere to go.
Then he noticed another of those strange wall panels, this one with rows of glowing circles, next to a doorway. Bailey mashed them repeatedly, copying what he’d seen Flint and his crew doing to activate them. The door slid open after a few squawks and chirps from the panel. The boy rushed in and pressed the lights on the other side to close the door. Just in time, because as the door slid closed he heard the two talking men walk past.
Bailey exhaled and looked around. The room was dimly lit but was apparently used for storage. There were shelves lined with all sorts of things Bailey did not recognize. Among other less interesting finds, there was a small metal tube, half a foot long and as big around as the shaft of a spear. A circle on the side caused the tube to emit a powerful light from one end. Another cylinder, this one bright red and the size of a large loaf of bread with a tube on one end surprised Bailey – when he squeezed a handle it fired off a steaming foam that filled the air with a cloud that made him choke and cough.
He did manage to find a set of clothing: a shirt and breeches that were joined that had a set of metal teeth on the front that clasped the whole thing together. He hoped the clothes would help him not stand out so much. He also found a hat that he could pull down low to conceal his face.
Feeling like he was amply disguised, Bailey exited the room and started wandering around the halls. He walked down many corridors, looked into several doors, but the more he looked the more he got confused. This place was so strange. There was a constant humming and vibrating, just like he’d heard on the fish ship. The halls were lit with the same inset lanterns. And the air had that same close, still quality to it. If this was a ship, Bailey wanted nothing to do with being a sailor. All he wanted to do was leave this place, but he had no idea how to go about that.
But then he stumbled across a room that absolutely blew his mind. He had figured out after several hours that the ship was long and narrow and had several floors to it. The large room he’d started in was in the lower levels towards the back. But as he worked his way towards the front higher levels, he entered a room that had a wall composed entirely of glass. What he saw made his heart stop.
Through the glass he saw a vast blackness, like the night sky only stretching in all directions. Floating below the horizon line, hanging in the black sky, was a huge orb, like a glass marble he had played with as a small child. It was green and blue with a dusting of white and glowed around the edges. It was magnificent and beautiful and scary all at once. Wherever he was, it must lay far beyond the realm of mortals. It was a profound moment for Bailey, who realized he was treading in the heavens amid the gods.
Bailey fell to his knees and grasped the small iron triangle that hung about his neck. He shut his eyes and prayed to the Trinity that was his patron deity by birth. He recited from memory the Trinity Prayer: “Blessed be the Mother and the Father and the Spirit,” he began. “Hallowed by thine presence. I pray to thee for forgiveness of my sins and of the sins I will commit, as I shall forgive others in thy name. I give thee thanks and praise.”
When he finished with the ritual, he continued praying. “Please forgive me for my intrusion into your holy realm. I make this plea to thee, in your divine wisdom and glory, to grant me guidance on my quest. Lead me to the correct path, lead me back to my home and my sworn duty.” He touched his forehead, for the Mother, his left shoulder for the Father, and his right shoulder for the Spirit, then clasped his hands in front and opened his eyes.
Clarity came to him in a flash. Flint. That was what had started all of this. The fish ship and Captain Flint. If anyone could take him home, it would be him and his crew. Flint was a lifeline to Bailey’s humanity, and he must find the man and convince him to take him home. But Flint had been taken prisoner by these Alliance soldiers. Were they still here? Could he find them? Could he free them? And if he did, would they help him get home?
“Only one way to find out, Bailey,” the boy said to himself.
Once he steeled himself to the task at hand, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. The glass wall had captured his entire attention up until that point, but when he looked he saw a table made of black glass surrounded by a collection of matching chairs. At each chair, set into the table, were panels of small lights and one large glass square that glowed faintly green. The panels that seemed to control everything.
He wondered if there was a map to this castle somewhere, something to give him an idea of where he might find Captain Flint. Then he remembered the woman’s voice in the fish ship, and he wondered if this ship also had a woman inside of it. Perhaps he could ask the woman to tell him where to find Flint. It was worth a try, anyway.
“Woman in the ship, are you there?” Bailey asked. Nothing. Maybe he needed to press one of those lights first. That’s how the woman in the fish ship had been awoken. So he went to the table and pressed several of the lightd, like he’d seen the other people in the castle doing.
“Error,” said a voice. This ship did have a woman inside of it.
He pressed a light, held it, then asked again, “Woman in the ship, I need help.”
“Help protocol activated. How may I assist?”
Very nice. “Please locate Captain Flint,” he said.
“Error,” the woman chirped, “No Captain Flint identified.”
Bailey scratched his head. “Where do they take the prisoners?”
“Detention facilities are located on level three, in section A113.”
“Where is section A113?”
“Do you require directions?”
“Yes, a map would be lovely.” On the small glowing glass square, the image of a map appeared. Bailey was amazed and wondered how the map had gotten into the glass. It showed where he was and where he needed to go. Bailey stared at it for a long time, trying to commit it to memory.
“I give you thanks, woman in the ship. Thou art very helpful.”
Bailey wasted no time. He didn’t want to forget the way or get confused by the interior of the ship. First, he got to level three via a set of narrow stairs, then he followed the path to section A113. He had no idea what he was going to find when he got there. He’d only seen a jailor’s cell one time before, and he hoped it wouldn’t be that much different in this castle.
Security in the detention section of the castle seemed tighter. He got more looks than he had on other levels, and he saw more of the black armored soldiers. He wasn’t stopped, however, until he got to the location that the woman in the ship had indicated. The door to this area had a little glass window pane in it, and Bailey could see two men wearing the gray Alliance uniforms standing behind a chest level desk.
When Bailey walked in, they looked at him skeptically. “We didn’t request maintenance. What are you doing here?”
Bailey froze. He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t know enough to formulate one. He scrambled for an answer to their question that wouldn’t sound suspicious. “I, uh, there is need for thine help in the corridor.”
The men looked at each other. “You sound weird, like your accent is off. And ain’t you a bit young to be a maintenance worker?”
“No, I mean, come quickly and help, please.”
“What’s the problem,” the first man said, coming from around the desk and peering out the little window.
Bailey let him pass by, then swung both fists together into the back of the man’s head. It was a powerful blow, one that Sir Reginald had taught him in case he ever got disarmed, and it sent the man face first into the door. Bailey still had his sword, but it was secured behind his back under the suit he wore. So it was fisticuffs. The man fell to the ground, dazed, and Bailey pressed the attack, kicking the man in the stomach to take his wind, then smashing him again with his fists. Bailey was small, but knowing where and how to hit made all the difference. The man went down and did not get up.
But by then, the other man had moved to take action, and Bailey barely dodged the swing of a small club that whizzed over his head. The boy dropped his shoulder and charged the man, planting his body into the man’s torso and rushing forward. He smashed the man into the desk. He tried to bring his club down onto Bailey’s back, but the young squire was too quick. He stomped on the man’s foot, then brought up both fists to connect under the man’s chin. Disoriented, the man was unable to keep a hold of his club as Bailey deftly disarmed him, then whipped the weapon across the man’s head. He went down in a heap on the ground.
Bailey took a moment to catch his breath, winded from the short but vigorous battle. He silently thanked his mentor for the long, hard drills that had prepared him to defeat two grown men with his bare hands. He quickly unclipped the belt each of the men wore, seeing they had weapons and other useful items, then looked to see what his actions had gained him.
The room beyond the desk was wide, with six doors on either side. Bailey looked at the desk, noting a series of twelve lights lined up just like the doors. Bailey did not hesitate to press all twelve of the lights in succession. As he turned, he saw the twelve doors open, and it did not take long for the heads of Captain Flint, Quinn, and the others to emerge.
“Kid, is that you?” Flint asked, eyes wide.
“Aye, sir, tis I.”
Before the Captain could say anything else, Bailey heard movement behind him. The first guard had gotten up and made his way to the desk. “You’re not going to escape on my watch,” he said, slamming a big red light on the desk. A loud noise burst from all around, and red lights flashed and spun on the walls.
Quinn rushed forward, slamming into the guard and tackling him to the ground. Flint came over and took the belts from Bailey, pulling out the mini crossbows and tossing one to the four armed woman called Zoey.
“Us against the entire ship, Captain?” Zoey purred with a smile.
Flint nodded, then looked to Quinn, who was checking the door. “Clear as it will ever be,” the first officer said.
“We gotta get to the ship, kid,” Flint said to Bailey. “You know the way?”
“I think so,” Bailey nodded. He pulled his sword from where he had it stowed on his back and handed his club to Quinn.
The crew charged through the ship. At first, they attempted stealth, but the alarms continued to sound, and before long they were discovered. When they rounded one corner to find a squad of the black-armored troopers barricading the path, a terrible battle ensued. By then, Flint and his crew had acquired several of the crossbow weapons, but even with that they were instantly pinned down.
“We can’t hold this position for long, Captain,” Harris said.
“Stow it, blondie,” Zoey yelled, standing and firing blasts from the four weapons she held. Her aim was true, striking down four of their enemies.
“Nice shooting, but Harris is right. We’re pinned down,” Quinn grimaced.
“I have an idea,” Bailey said, spying one of the red cylinders on the wall near them. “If I throw this,” he said to Zoey, “dost though think thine aim is true enough to strike it? It contained a powerful…”
Zoey cut him off. “I follow you. Throw it when you’re ready.”
Bailey nodded and tossed the cylinder through the corridor towards the enemy. Zoey aimed and fired, striking dead center. It exploded in a massive white cloud of smoke.
With Bailey’s cover, the crew made a run for it, cutting down a side corridor to continue their way to the fish ship. Bailey was proud for his contribution, but then heard the clap of one of the crossbows and heard someone hit the floor.
Looking back, Bailey saw Quinn drop to one knee. He waved the group on. “Go! I’ll be fine!” He turned and fired a few shots back into the crowd of oncoming troopers.
“Quinn!” Bailey yelled. He rushed back to the older man that reminded him of Sir Reginald and put his arm over his shoulder. Bailey could see blood from a wound in Quinn’s leg.
Bailey helped him to his feet, then shouldered part of the man’s weight, which was considerably more than the squire expected. As they stumbled down the hallway, Quinn kept firing his weapon back, trying to keep the enemy from getting in a shot against the slow moving target they presented.
But it was no use. Quinn took another shot, and it sent both of them sprawling to the ground.
“Leave me, kid,” Quinn said, but Bailey refused to give up. He hauled the man back to his feet and stumbled on.
Quinn looked back and saw a trooper lining up a shot on Bailey. He gave the boy a shove and spun on their attacker, firing his weapon wildly and screaming at the top of his lungs.
“May the devil take you, you Alliance sons of motherless goats!” he rushed them as best he could with his wounded leg.
In the end, Quinn stood no chance. He was cut down by Alliance fire that surely would have been otherwise aimed at Bailey. The boy stood motionless, screaming, “No!” Flint had to drag him away to keep Quinn’s sacrifice from going to waste.
The crew ran, headed toward the ship. Toward safety. There were more battles. Bailey was mostly along for the ride, but there were a handful of times when his skills with the sword came in handy. They turned a corner right into a squad of waiting soldiers. Bailey was quick to take out two of them before they could fire. One trooper broke ranks and charged the crew during one firefight. He got all the way up to Bailey without being hit by any of the wild shots flying through the air. Bailey met him with gritted teeth and did what he had to.
But eventually, they made it to the ship. The crew was relieved as they clambered on board and made for the room with the desks. Bailey followed them, but could offer no assistance.
“Damn!” Captain Flint yelled after the ship lurched but failed to take off as planned.
“Docking clamp,” hissed Yasmin through gritted teeth.
“Ease off, Yas. We don’t want to rip a hole in the hull,” Harris pleaded.
“I’ll go take care of it,” Zoey growled, brandishing her four weapons and stalking towards the door. The Captain nodded.
Just then, Bailey heard a loud siren followed by an amplified voice. It was dripping with disdain and self-satisfied bravado. “Come out of the ship and surrender. You’re not going anywhere, Flint, and if I have to come in there and get you again, we won’t be shooting to stun this time.”
“Damn!” Flint repeated. “We walked right into their trap.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes to break it to your pathetic crew that you’ve failed them,” came the voice from outside.
“Who is that man?” Bailey asked.
“That is Captain Swanson, kid, and this is his ship. We’ve run across him before – he’s not a nice man.”
“And this Captain Swanson, he wants to capture thee because thou art in rebellion against his rule?”
“Against Alliance rule, yeah.”
Zoey growled and headed toward the door again.
“Where art thou going?” Bailey asked.
“Someone needs to disable the docking clamp. Maybe I can get to it and buy you enough time to get away.”
“They’ll cut you down before you make it out of the hangar, Zoey,” said the Captain, hand on his forehead.
“I shall go,” Bailey said.
“What? No, that’s ridiculous, kid.”
“I can make it.”
“You don’t even have a gun, kiddo,” said Zoey. “Let alone know how to shoot one.”
“I do not require one,” Bailey shook his head.
“Look, kid, you’re good with that sword and all, but…”
“I need not fight. Tis unclear where I need to go, but I can use the tunnels under the floor to get there, with thine enemy unaware.”
Flint looked at Bailey for a long time. Bailey didn’t know what he was thinking, but he was clearly sizing the boy up. “Can you fit?”
“Tis a tight squeeze, but ‘twas how I got out of here the first time. Canst thou tell me where to go.”
Harris pulled up a map of the Inquisitor. He traced his finger along a line to the center of the ship. “Central core would be here,” he said. “There’s a console that will shut the whole ship down for a few minutes until backup power comes up. Plus, I have a little something extra we can add for the old Captain.”
Bailey stared back at Harris and blinked. He had no idea what any of that meant.
“Uh… here, take this,” he said, handing Bailey a little stick.
“What is this?” Bailey asked.
“It’s like a key. You find this console,” he pulled up an image of one of the desks filled with lights, “and you put the key in the slot. The program will do the rest.”
Bailey nodded. Flint took him by the shoulders. “You sure, kid? We can still surrender. I’m not saying the Alliance will go easy on you, but they’ll probably end up dropping you back down on your planet, eventually.”
“While returning to mine home is my goal, ‘twas divine providence that led me to you. I must fulfill this duty. This quest is mine to complete.”
Flint nodded. “Alright, kid. You stick that key in and get back here on the double, hear? You’re not going to have a lot of time. No time to explain, but you’re not going to want to stick around.” Flint looked at Harris.
The captain took Bailey to the back of the ship and opened a small door on the floor. He then reached down another foot or so and opened another door, this one swinging out. Bailey saw the ground of the larger ship below, and an access hatch to the tunnels he’d used just beyond the underbelly of the ship.
“I shall not fail you, Captain,” he said and climbed down through the hatch.
“We‘ll leave the lights on for you, kid.”
Slowly and silently, Bailey snuck across the floor. He kept an eye on the troopers in front of the ship, but they were so focused on the entry ramp they did not notice the boy. He easily slipped down into the tunnel and shimmied his way to the place Harris had directed him.
He did not have far to go. After a few minutes, he popped his head up through the tunnel grate and looked around. The room was cold. Cold enough that Bailey saw his breath as he exhaled. He looked around and saw eight huge rectangular columns. It reminded him of the stone circles the druids made back home. Slabs arranged in a circle around a central point. While in his world, the slabs were carved with runes and symbols, these were covered in the tiny blinking lights, like a million fireflies arrayed on the stone faces.
Adjacent to the columns was one of the huge light-covered desks. Bailey recognized the desk from the image Harris had shown him. He pulled out the key he had been given and located the slot where it was meant to go. As he was about to insert it, he heard a voice from behind him.
“What are you doing in here?”
Bailey spun around to find a man in a black smock with a belt of tools around his waist.
“I, uh…” Bailey stumbled over his words. “I was sent here by the captain,” he said, “Captain Swanson.”
“And what did the captain send you in here to do?” the man asked.
“Art thou questioning his orders?” Bailey gambled. “The captain’s business tis his to know.” He pretended to look over the lights, trying not to look like he had no idea what they did.
“I think we’d better check with the duty sergeant,” the man said. “I don’t even know how you got in here – you must’ve walked right past me.” The man reached for Bailey’s wrist, as if to lead the boy away. Bailey, however, was faster. He threw his hat at the man’s face and jammed the key into the slot, then slid around the corner of the desk.
The man gave chase, playing a cat and mouse game with Bailey in and around the huge pillars with their blinking lights. As Bailey dodged and evaded, the lights on the pillars turned from blinking white to solid red. He and the man both stopped when that happened, and they heard the voice of the woman in the ship speaking.
“Self-destruct activated. Mandatory evacuation protocol seven twenty-b. Three minutes and counting.”
“What did you do, you little terrorist?” the man screamed, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He ran over to the desk and started frantically pressing the lights. Bailey noticed there was smoke curling up from the desk. “You sabotaged the controls. Everything is frozen out. There’s no way to stop the countdown!” The man’s face was painted with horror as he ran from the room.
Bailey was confused. All he had done was put the key where he was supposed to. He didn’t know what self-destruct meant, but he reasoned it was very bad indeed. He scrambled back into the tunnel and headed towards the ship with as much haste as possible. Before he got back to the fish ship, he could tell something was going on.
Loud sirens were sounding all around, and red flashing lights were casting an eerie light everywhere. The woman in the ship was counting down the time to self-destruct, causing a flurry of activity. Men were frantically running to and fro, not in panic but rather in a practiced, orderly fashion. But when Bailey emerged from the panel in the floor of the large room where the fish ship was kept, pandemonium reigned.
The fish ship itself was floating above the ground through some unseen force. Captain Swanson was desperately trying to keep his men focused on the ship, ordering them to fire their weapons that were having little effect. The men were clearly concerned with the voice counting down, but the captain kept them in place with the force of his command and position.
“Thirty seconds to self-destruct,” the voice said calmly.
Bailey looked at Captain Swanson as the man noticed Bailey. They stared at each other for several seconds, locked in a wordless battle.
“Twenty seconds to self-destruct.”
The captain’s eyes were filled with rage and defiance. As his men fired in vain at the fish ship, the captain raised his own weapon and pointed it at Bailey.
“Ten seconds to self-destruct.”
Bailey stared, waiting for the shot to come. But just then, the back of the fish ship swung around and Captain Flint reached down through the hatch in the bottom. Bailey grabbed his hands and was hauled into the ship right as it took off. Bailey heard a terrible boom that rocked the ship around him.
Several seconds of chaos, loud noises banging against the ship, and the sensation of falling followed. He and Captain Flint hunkered down until things calmed a bit.
“What happened?” Bailey asked when it was over.
“You did it, kid, that’s what. Mission accomplished.” He clapped the boy on the shoulder and looked at him with pride. For his part, Bailey felt like he had completed a great quest. Even if no one would believe his incredible story.
* * *
The Lionfish, dented and scorched from its escape from the exploding Inquisitor, landed in the clearing near where it had taken off mere hours before. The mouth opened, providing a boarding ramp at the top of which Bailey stood next to Captain Flint.
“You handled yourself well up there, kid,” he said.
“Thank you for returning me home, Captain.”
“We could use a soldier like you. We could teach you the ways of the bigger world. Take you to the stars and beyond.”
Bailey shook his head. “The realm of the gods tis no place for the likes of me,” he said. “Besides, I am bound to Sir Reginald, Captain. I have duties here. A responsibility to mine family and the crown.”
“Suit yourself, kid.”
“Good luck on thine quest. If tis noble, as thou sayest it tis, thou shalt be victorious, I am certain the gods would have it no other way.” He handed the captain his Trinity symbol. “Take this, Captain, and may the Mother, the Father, and the Spirit watch over thee and thine crew.”
Flint took the token and chuckled as Bailey stepped off the ramp. Lionfish lifted into the air silently and disappeared into the growing dawn. Bailey heard the camp stirring and felt a hand on his shoulder.
“What ‘twas that?” Sir Reginald asked.
Bailey turned and faced his mentor. “‘Twas a simple dream.”