[Makebelieve] Fic: Mark Of Cain 2

[makebelieve archive]

*Fic: Mark Of Cain 2*
Brothers Of the Blood: Mark Of Cain
Chapter 2
by PEJA

This story begins here <http://peja1956.livejournal.com/103246.html>


CHAPTER TWO

Brushing his little finger under his upturned left hand, Dalton repeatedly
signed, `Almost. Almost.' Catching himself in the betraying gesture, he
tightened his hands into white-knuckled fists. "Ian, report our status?"

"Amazingly enough," Ian rotated the flight module around and back toward
Dalton's station on the raised, rear quarterdeck with a casual prod by his
booted toe. "'Tis seeming we've dropped into the proper Euzkadi flight
zones."

Dalton grunted, trying his legs. The crippling vertigo was gone, leaving
behind only a vague distaste. "I'm glad to hear it."

"With relative success, I might be adding," Ian continued, a mischievious
gleam in his green eyes.

Dalton lifted a questioning brow. "Not before time."

"No before time?" Ian jerked straight in his seat. "That's all ye'll be
saying, is it?"

Dalton met his suddenly heated gaze with practiced cool. "Yes. I believe it
is."

Quick-silver fast, Ian's apparent rage dissolved into a rakish grin and he
tugged at the silver devil's skull-and-crossbones encrusted with fiery red
jewels that dangled from his left ear. "Aye, and ye be a right ungrateful
man, I'm telling ye."

"You think so?"

"Do I think so, ye ask?" Ian snorted. "Here I'm doing the impossible,
bringing us back from the pits of hell," he complained, his thick brogue
going syrupy. "And am I getting so much as a good man from ye? Nay. 'Tis
dead insensitive ye are. Ye value me no at all."

A smile, rich with dark satisfaction, ghosted over Dalton's lips. "You
expect praise for proving I was correct in bringing you onto my crew
roster." He shook his head. "I should think it fortunate I am such an
excellent judge of expertise, do you not agree?"

Ian's laugh rippled over the bridge. "I'll be taking that as a thank you,
then."

"If it pleases you," Dalton said through an answering dark chuckle.

The light moment ended as quickly as it came, as a sudden thoughtful shadow
crept over Ian's craggy features, swallowing his humor. "Ye know, I'm no
completely convinced our making it through was nay a simple matter of luck."


"Luck?" Dalton drifted between the divided brass railings that encircled the
flight level and down two steps toward his pilot. "Luck is a fool's
explanation for destiny." His restless gaze drifted toward the main screen.
"Can you pinpoint our arrival on Euzkadi?"

Sighing dramatically, Ian slanted him a grim look. "It's depending on
Hellequin, it is."

"Damnation. Why can't I get a simple answer?" Shaking his head, Dalton
sighed. "Forget I said that. You don't need to tell me where the problem
lies."

Hellequin was an ancient relic. Even at the best of times she'd proven
unreliable. This was not the best of times.

"All right. Give me your professional estimate."

"Professional estimate, is it?" Ian folded his arms over his chest, studying
the familiar configuration of the stars with a learned eye.

"Well?"

"We're here." Ian traced his index finger along the starchart, setting the
jeweled death's-head signet ring he wore aglitter. "Euzkadi is there. If I'm
having to guess, I'd say about ten minutes on the low end of the scale." He
tilted the flight module back away from the controlboard and cupped his
palms over blood-shot eyes. "On the high side, fifteen."

"Fifteen minutes." A dangerous dragon's smile quirked Dalton's lips. "I'll
have the truth soon, then."

"Aye, whatever that's meaning," Ian slit his lashes open. "But I gotta tell
you, I'm definitely no looking forward to the end of this cursed flight."

"Explain."

"You dinna need me telling you what's coming."

"Perhaps not. Perhaps I would simply like to hear how you are sizing up our
situation." He smiled grimly. "Come now. Indulge me."

"You're wanting to hear what I anticipate, is it?" Ian flailed the air with
his hands. "Okay, the way I'm seeing it, the problem comes after we reach
planetfall. We simply dinna have enough power to maintain a standard orbit
for more than a few wee minutes. An hour at most.

"If we're meaning to hang around, and I'm willing to bet my life we are,
sooner or later I'll be getting the order to land this temperamental lady,
or at least attempt bringing her down. All without the computer making
adjustments for any atmospheric abnormalities or, dare I say it, pilot
error."

"You anticipate pilot error?"

Ian grimaced. "Ye just keep asking the impossible, Dal. Landing one of these
rovers be a dead delicate maneuver even during simulation with complete
computer control. They're designed for docking in orbit, no to touch earth."


"I understand your frustration, Ian," Dalton commiserated, hesitating for an
instant before he dropped a comforting hand onto Ian's shoulder for the
briefest of moments. "But I also know if it comes to it, you'll get us down.
Down and safe."

Ian sent him a grimly appraising glance. "Your word? Or God's?"

A lazy, half-smile tugged at the corner of Dalton's lips. "Mine."

Ian's jade gaze flickered rebelliously for an instant, then he shook his
head, chuckling. "Aye, it's your word I'll be taking."

"Yes, you will," Dalton said, hoping he had spoken the truth.

But he knew all too well the trouble they were in. The crew was dealing
one-on-one with even the most minor of contingencies. Each correction they
made created a waterfall effect that demanded new corrections. Just holding
the course was a cat-and-mouse game with deadly consequences. The proof
being the wormhole incident they had just survived.

Barely.

Landing this particular ship, in its current state of disrepair, would be
successful only if Ian possessed the skill and training to prevent them
ending a bloody mess.

Undoubtedly Ian did have the skill. Dalton wouldn't have ordered Yessina to
break deep cover from her position in Alpha Level Government Security to
recruit the impulsive young man for primary pilot on this ship if he hadn't.


But even so, it didn't take genius to realize the impending landing,
implemented without automatics to stabilize against outside hostile forces,
natural or conceived in the minds of men, would definitely jumpstart the
crew's hearts.

No. Ian needed the navigation computer operational at that crucial moment of
descent. And that just wasn't likely to happen. Not the way things had gone
up to this point.

Still, if Ian could swing a little of his infamous luck, if Dalton dared
trust chance just this once, he reckoned Ian could manage the landing
without killing everyone on board.

So long as the Euzkadi didn't throw an axe in the works.

"Arissa, have intercepters been launched?"

"Scanners read all clear, Dal." The petite, black haired woman seated in the
right section of Operations rotated around toward Dalton. "Shall I activate
stealth?"

Dalton's full lips twisted in a tight grimace. "We can't afford the drain on
our energy reserves. Provided we still have any reserves left."

She sent him a searing smile. "I'm remedying that even as we speak."

"Given the current status of the ship, that's a neat trick if you can pull
it off."

"I can pull it off, all right."

"You intrigue me, cara mia. Care to explain?"

She nodded. "You remember Hellequin's hull is laminated with solar cells?"

"Yes," he said dryly. "I also recall those cells were decommissioned until I
made repairs on them. I have not done so as of yet."

"But I did," she told him, casting him a seductive, sideways glance. "It was
meant to be a surprise."

"I don't as a rule like surprises, Arissa girl." A small smile curved his
lips. "But this one pleases me. Tell me, cara, just exactly what benefits I
can expect from this little gift of yours?"

"Not as much as you might like, Dal. The reserves are raising rapidly now
we've regained normal space. But we're working with limited time. There's
only so much energy the cells can process in the time allotted."

"You are hedging, my dear lady," Dalton purred. "How much power can I
expect?"

She sighed. "We've currently got power for a temporary orbit. Perhaps
another hour over the one Ian predicted. And a small measure for defense,
but not much left over for anything fancy."

Dalton acknowledged the report with a curt nod. "I think it's time for some
straight talk."

"No before time, if ye ask me," Ian mumbled under his breath.

Dalton arched one thick brow, acknowledging the remark, but otherwise let it
pass. "You've all heard what's been said. That we daren't risk wasting our
power levels without a damn good reason? And even then, it had better be a
last ditch effort."

"It's in my mind that every effort we be making is a last ditch effort under
the circumstances."

"Perhaps you're right, Ian. But we've already skirted a long string of
problems on this flight. This lack of power is just one more added
inconvenience."

Ian snorted crudely. "Inconvenience, is it?"

"The harsh fact is, the ship is crumbling around us."

I'm thinking we should have taken time for an overhaul," Ian grumbled,
sparking Dalton's lurking temper. "But we dinna, and that's all right, too,"
he added quickly.

Glancing between the two men, Arissa grinned. "Sounds like a challenge."

"A challenge?" Dalton snarled, not at all liking the reminder that he was
playing a dangerous game, staking his life, and theirs, against the odds.

And yet, he'd mastered the game long ago. The worse the threat, the higher
the stakes, the better he came out ahead. He faced danger knowing he lived
on borrowed time. Beat the odds because he had nothing to lose. It was the
legacy left him by his revered great great grandfather when that great man
had voiced his first protest against the Planetary Regime's policy of
enforced racial blood-mixing. A legacy continued by his purist great
grandfather and the doggedly determined son who followed. A legacy that had,
out of desperation, finally tainted his illustrious pure bloodline when his
own dying father, bent on vengeance against those who had exposed him to
biological poisoning, had entered into his mixed-blood conception, and with
a Sicilian syndicate daughter, at that.

"Yes, it will indeed be a challenge," he said, reining his thoughts back to
the situation at hand. "But one well met, I should think."

"Undoubtedly," she said, mimicking him with a knowing smile.

He gave her one last harsh glare, then turned to include the rest of his
crew. "It's confirmed in everyone's mind? If we hope to make a safe
planetfall, we'll require every erg at our disposal. Not to mention a hell
of a lot of luck?"

Ian lifted a questioning, bronze brow. "And now ye expect us to trust our
survival to luck, is it?"

A short, mocking bark of laughter burst from his lips. "I leave nothing to
trust. Least of all luck."

"You had me worried there for a wee moment."

Relaxing under the pilot's easy teasing, Dalton wandered past the steps, up
the gentle slope of the outer rear quarter deck, then down the other side.

As he prowled the expanse of the upper bridge, his iced glance examined the
faces of his crew, gauging their state of mind through his intimate
knowledge of them.

"We'll be making our final approach soon," he broke the tranquility
suddenly. "It could get busy then. If you have questions, ask them now. It
might well be your last chance."


END PART 2


-- 
PEJA
The wwomb archive http://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/index.php accepts all
fandoms, all genres. Come create your personal page with us
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: http://www.chez-vrolet.net/pipermail/makebelieve/attachments/20080218/3fe8de5a/attachment.htm