Lark's Fallen Army

Surveying the stars before her Lark pushed the situation at hand out of her mind - no sense worrying about that - and let her thoughts wander to the Ione. The last known location of the starship was out on the rim, between the Geigmar and Solara galaxies. There was no feasible reason for the luxury cruiser to be there—it was well off its plotted course; and though Lark found the stars to be a wonder at any angle, there was nothing special to see in that part of the universe. It was almost entirely black, with the exception of a few gaseous planets incapable of being terra formed.

Why were they so far off course? She wondered desperately. Then again for all she knew the Ione was back on track by now, it having turned out that the captain just went a little space mad and had been successfully overthrown. Her current vantage point, extremely limited as it was, would never let her catch up with it.

The door to the bridge beeped as it accepted a security card, and the sound shook her from her questions. She sat back in her chair and let her eyes close halfway, doing her best to look comfortable and careless. Or at least, as comfortable and careless as one could look in handcuffs.

“Captain on deck,” the woman—well, Lark was fairly sure it was a woman—at the helm stood at attention. “At ease, Harper,” he barked. It seemed to Lark a humorous exchange. Captain Baldric Tate was clearly accustomed to a larger ship. She almost felt pity for him.

Tate was a large man, she couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t move so much as displace the objects around him. Graying stubble stuck out on his face unattractively, the awkward stage of a beard, and a full head of thick brown hair showed silver around the temples. His uniform was navy blue, several badges of honor, and immaculate. Lark couldn’t imagine him in any other set of clothes, though she was certain he must have some. He was sitting in front of her, grey eyes evaluating her coldly. He pulled out a small wallet sized computer, pulled up his report and began to read aloud.

“Lark Durant. Enslaved as a child, rescued herself and fifty others before enrolling in an academy on Mars where she was kicked out for assaulting a commander.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Impressive.” She smiled. He continued.

“Commandeered a military vessel, which was swapped on the black market for a less conspicuous vehicle. Reportedly seen traveling with Rodney Stargazer after his last public appearance 3 years ago; suspected of harboring deserters from the War; somehow cleared of a gun-running charge last year…Judge Marks. Hmph, well that’s not much of a mystery.”

“More than you’d think, actually.” She chirped.

“You’ve got quite a record for someone your age.”

“It's true I've had a head start; but I’m sure you can catch up.” A playful smile spread across her lips.

“A record like this, and you think I’m on your side?”

“Is that really all the feds have on me?”

“Is it wrong?”

“Wrong? Why, it’s incomplete, vague and in some parts entirely falsified. You think you can get rid of a marked ship on the black market that easily?” She feigned annoyance lightly, her face glowing with pleasure.

“I’d be more than willing to take down any confessions.”

“It’d do your career some good, wouldn’t it Baldric?” The large man ignored her baiting.

“I’d appreciate it, if you would address me as Captain.” She had to give him credit, he actually sounded quite threatening. “Tell me Lark, what are you doing out here on the rim? Running?”

She gave him a look.

“That’s what it looks like to the universe. Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here? Set a few things straight, for posterity’s sake.”

“Sorry Captain, but I don’t see why I should. What could possibly be in it for me?”

Tate, looking extraordinarily uncomfortable now, took perhaps one moment too long to answer. He had something for her after all. Lark jumped in, suddenly interested. “You’re not—traitors? Surely Baldric Tate of Red’s Crossing wouldn’t be turning against the feds?” She looked to the woman at the helm—Harper—and couldn’t help but notice that she seemed unusually interested in the radar screen. Sky looked empty from where she sat. Lark brought her gaze around to the Captain, whose flushed face looked either scared or angry—or both. This came to her as a true surprise, and she let out a low whistle. "Well. That explains this wretched excuse for a ship, doesn't it?"