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   Chapter 23 No.23

Dead Beckoning By Christina Engela Characters: 5104

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:01


His first order of business was to unpack his stuff, which wasn't really much. Being on the move for so many months, he'd left all his remaining stuff – including the erstwhile Corsair raider 'Undertaker' in storage – he hadn't yet had time to collect much baggage. In fact, it had been quite the opposite – he now had even less than when he'd last seen the inside of this ship! What he hadn't managed to secure in safe-keeping and conceal from the auditors on receiving his Terran citizenship, was in the single bag he carried with him.

Not long after arriving in his cabin, he felt the ship jar slightly as it made the jump to hyperspace, indicating that, for better or worse, they were under way. About an hour later, he received a call from Mykl to join him on the bridge. Walking there, through corridors full of red-uniformed people was an unsettling experience. He'd never been one for uniforms, nor for the people in them. He was used to the black clothing worn by Corsairs – where unlike the convention, the color itself was the uniform, not identical articles of clothing all intended to make everyone look like little clones of each other. Some of the crew remembered him from before, and nodded terse, cautious greetings in passing. A few ignored him, knowing at least part of his story… he was the infamous Corsair captain Blachart, after all… and the name Blachart the Bloody came with a whole lot of unpleasant baggage.

By the time he reached the bridge, having remembered the way from his previous stay onboar

antage?"

"Spread out like this, they form a trail you can follow." The former Corsair explained. "They provide a vector you can use to determine the course and heading the ship was on when they were dropped."

"Okay, I get it." Mykl said, catching on. "We can get a rough idea of the line they were traveling in when they dumped the bodies… The only thing we don't have is which direction they were going in – coming or going. So we would have to guess at either end…Thanks."

"That's what I'm here for." Blachart quipped, stepping back. "Apparently."

"Ripley?" Mykl called.

"I'm already on it… extrapolating headings now – okay, I have it."

"Any likely destinations on either end of this line?"

"Either Caries – and we know he isn't there – or a star designated Yalta 198 – it's nineteen point two hours away from here."

"You know it?" Mykl asked Adam.

"Yes, I do. It was called 'Bacon's Folly'. It's an old maintenance base, and refueling station. Last I heard, it was abandoned years ago."

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