New Horizons: Chapter 5

Gray happily set me up in the room that used to be his before he moved in with Lovath. It was not much bigger than a closet, but that was typical of rooms on small ships and I wasn’t bothered. What irked me was the knowledge that I was getting Gray’s leftover space while he spent his time in Lovath’s bed. There was a finality to knowing he was putting me in a room he never intended to use again.

Of course, I’d been informed Qwexil’s empty room was available, but there was no way I was staying there despite knowing Lovath had spaced all his belongings. They couldn’t pay enough me to use that room.

“Derrick, there’s…not going to be a problem, right? Between you and Lovath?” Gray asked hesitantly as he sat criss-crossed on my bed while I put my stuff in the small closet.

“Depends. Is he still manipulating you?” I didn’t look over, but I heard the clear noise of frustration Gray made in the back of his throat.

“He never was.”

Then I did look at him, and his pretty face was frowning. “What has he really done for you, Gray? Release you from slavery? Give you freedom? That’s the bare minimum, the bar has to be higher than that.”

Gaze solemn, Gray studied his hands. “When Qwexil sold me to Torvan, the Event Horizon crew found me and slaughtered every single one of Torvan’s hired guards and crew. 56 of them. Lovath beat Torvan’s face in with his bare hands. How many people back on Earth would do that for you?”

My blood ran cold at the thought of Torvan, the master Gray had been en route to before his stasis pod failed on Lovath’s ship. Did I know anyone on Earth who would kill for me? Did I want to? The entire idea was so removed from the kind of life I’d led on Earth, but in a way Gray was right.

No one I knew before would have killed for me.

Letting my shoulders sag—and letting the smallest bit of anger ebb away—I said, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not happy about everything, and I’m still trying to get back to Earth. But I will do my best not to let my opinions be a problem.” Lovath was, after all, providing me a job. Paying me fair credits. Giving me the opportunity to try and get back to Earth on my own instead of dying of lung failure on Pretia like a stubborn fool.

Gray’s relief was instant, and he perked up. “Good. I love Lovath, Derrick. And you’re my friend. I need you guys to at least tolerate each other.”

Oh, I’d tolerate him. And take every opportunity to show Gray that Lovath wasn’t the best thing for him. That the traakian was rotten to the core with rotten intentions. “Sure.” I said instead, finishing up putting away my belongings. “You were going to show me around the engine room?”

Gray snickered. “No, asshole. Kryn is going to show you around the engine room. I don’t know half the shtec down there. I know you and I are both wary around krexxians, but he’s a good guy.”

“Jeez, now you talk like an alien too?” I couldn’t help rolling my eyes, not bothering to respond to the comment. I disliked Kryn the same way I disliked every other fucking alien I had to look at out here. Equally.

“Might as well.” Gray shrugged. “Not going back to Earth anyhow.”

Not with a heart implant, he wasn’t. I had a feeling the Shukasi Federation would actually bother to sweep Gray back up from Earth if he tried to return there with advanced technology. It wasn’t too horrible, though. Given time and the right pressure, I could probably convince him to get it removed, then we’d return.

“Let’s get Kryn then.” I grunted. Though I wasn’t thrilled, I did need to see the engine room and get a rundown of what machines they were using. Was the reactor core dark matter or antimatter based? Did they run on an oxygen recycler or an oxygen generator? A recycler, I was willing to bet based on the taste of the air. I’d bet more that the air filters needed to be replaced if that were so.

Obviously the smaller transports I worked on most of the time weren’t quite the same, but they often used smaller version of the same components. Not to mention, my previous boss did plenty of work on spaceships as well, so I wasn’t unfamiliar.

Gray led me back out into the halls of the Event Horizon and into what appeared to be a medical bay. Equipment I recognized as medical basics—someone seriously injured would probably still need to go to a proper hospital—took over most of the room, but there was an area cordoned off in the back with workout equipment as well.

Seriously? If I wanted to stay in shape on this ship I had to do it where an alien I despised spent all his time? Great. Kryn himself was exercising at the moment, shirtless and showing off those stupidly large muscles all over.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. No way was that all real. Were there alien steroids he could be taking? Implants that gave you big biceps? He didn’t appear manufactured, but I’d never seen a krexxian be anything other that lithe and willowy.

“Do you ever not work out?” Gray teased as he bounded straight in. No nerves whatsoever about being in a med bay. Had traveling on the Event Horizon been…good for him? He walked up to Kryn—a krexxian, no less—with pure confidence.

Flashing him a grin, Kryn set down his weights. “Do you think a krexxian can look like me with no effort?”

I doubted any amount of work and dedication could make him as stupidly strong as he looked, but that was just my opinion. “Think you can take a break from pumping iron to show me the engine room?” I was being unnecessarily prickly, I was sure.

Kryn, unfazed, just gave Gray a hard pat on the back as he joined us. “Sure. I will show you around. I know what most of it is called, unlike Gray.”

Rolling his eyes, Gray mumbled, “I forget what the warp capacitors are called one time.”

Okay, it couldn’t be that hard to remember, but I bit my tongue. As much as I wanted to spend more time with Gray, it would definitely be more helpful for someone who knew what they were talking about to show me the ropes.

I followed Kryn down to the cargo bay ladder and waited for him to slide to the bottom with a thunk. How he even fit through the opening, who knew. I did the same, sliding down after him and following him through the cargo bay.

Eyeing the crates all around, I saw nothing that screamed ‘exotics trade’. The smaller boxes could likely only fit drugs like venom and moon rocks. Stacked, larger ones had flashing screens indicative of dangerous equipment; I’d guess illegal implants and weapons.

No stasis pods, and I couldn’t read anything that was related to life signs. My understanding of the universal written language, Common, was getting better by the day. Turns out, I’d been able to pick it up really fast—a natural, my old boss Zyxen had said.

The only concerning thing I saw was barely visible, buried behind crates. It was some sort of holding cell with bars. It wasn’t really an issue since most ships had something like that in case someone had to be apprehended in space. I was still going to keep and eye on it though.

“Oxygen recycler.” Kryn’s big hand smacked a piece of equipment that rattled in return as we passed through the cargo bay doors into the engine room, and I cringed. The thing was probably old enough to legally drink and it was not something I wanted shitting out on us. There had to be a backup system, of course, but I wasn’t eager to test it.

“Last time the filters were replaced?” The recycler rattled again, on its own, and I frowned.

Kryn shrugged.

Great.

The krexxian gave me an overview of the entire engine room, and the equipment he didn’t know the names of I could figure out myself. A ominous, ear-splitting whomp sort of sound as we approached the reactor core made it clear I was dealing with one based on anti-matter. At least that was a relief, because those were far more efficient. Still needed new power cells every once in while, but it was more sustainable than most things. Could be recharged in a pinch.

“How recently upgraded is this thing?” I called over the noise, inspecting what I could through the safety bars surrounding it.

“Six years or so ago.”

“I can work with that.” It was better than the auto I’d serviced last week that still ran on dark matter and hadn’t been touched by a mechanic in over a century. And the owner wondered why it sputtered while accelerating. The thing had been one wrong move from falling apart.

As we trekked back into the depths of the engine room, tour nearly through, Kryn paused near the water sterilizer. Leaning his weight on the machine, making it creak, he asked, “Why are you really here, Derrick?”