Authors: Dain White
“No need to apologize Gene, I'm just poking fun. Stop making that face at me, and clean up that compartment as best as you can before the short one gets there, you know how she gets. Meanwhile, I'll be up here, getting shot at. No big deal.”
A massive blast snapped my head back against the headrest hard enough to leave me seeing stars, and not the pretty kind.
“Sir, what was that?” Pauli said in a voice painted purple with red stripes of terror.
“Probably a torp, and a big one... breathe, Pauli... breathe... we're doing just fine, son. What is the current range-to-target?”
“Range is 8km and climbing sir, they've just lit the fires and are burning pretty hard.”
“Very well. all hands, I need you all in crash couches immediately, if you are not already. Please let me know when you're in position. Gene, I need maximum power... everything we have, I want it all.”
I sat and stared at my screens, considering our options, feeling the fine texture of the armrest, and allowed myself a brief, heroic moment of anguish for my poor neglected coffee cup, cold, dusty and dry.
I noted a talkback from Weapons Control, though it was mostly orange and red. Hopefully Shorty had enough time for a shower, I sure wouldn't want to in a small box full of swirling water while someone pounds on it with a kinetic hammer, but I guess it's better than where we found her. Of course, it's really not that small of a box for her.
The buzzing hum of the tokamak grew and grew, until it felt like it was vibrating through my soul. It was hard to breathe against it as the deep subsonics choked off my throat. Engineering talkbacks flashed green, we were lit, and burning hot.
“All hands, stand by for acceleration with high gravities. Janis, please compensate with pseudomass, this is going to be a fast, hot burn. Pauli, let me know when we're within two clicks.”
I punched it, flank speed: one-hundred-percent.
The Archaea blazed ahead, falling forward into a deep hole projected by pseudomass, hurtling towards the fleeing ship like a sprinting cat chasing a snail. My eyes started to roll up inside my head and I fought to keep the gray at bay, holding my breath as tightly as I could.
“Captain... two...”
I dropped the burn and felt my face grow hot as blood rushed back into my head.
“Janis, reverse pseudomass to brake, match their vector if you please, smartly now.”
“Decelerating to match vector, aye.”
After a brief moment of null-g, I fell backwards into the cushions as Janis focused pseudomass astern of the Archaea, dropping speed in a precision-perfect low-g curve that left us within a kilometer of the target ship. I would love to see the look on their pilot's face right about now.
They weren't done shooting at us though. We were getting hammered by a nearly solid stream of high-impact kinetics, just pounding into us. It must be terrifying for them to be pouring fire into us and not seeing any effect. To flee at flank speed away from us, and have us reel them in like they weren't even moving, and then now, to have us on station close enough to see us glow from their turret fire, and know nothing they can do will make us go away.
That's exactly what I wanted, of course. I want every bit of psychological edge I could get, I wanted them to feel terror, uncontrolled fear. Time to give them that brown moment, that moment when the floor seems to drop away from them, where they want to crawl deep inside themselves and give up.
“Shorty, I need you geared up at the topside lock immediately. Are you up for this?”
“You're damn right I am, sir. I will be ready in 60 seconds.”
“Outstanding. Janis, please cut their drive and weapons systems, open their outer lock, and flash ambers on the inner lock. I would also like to have direct access to their 1MC.”
“Done sir.”
“Thank you dear.” I took a deep breath.
“Attention. This is Captain Dak Smith of the Archaea. You have my crew member on board, stand by to be boarded.”
The comms lit up with an incoming hail, and I thumbed the channel open. “Archaea, this is Americo Ventures AV3425. Your crew member was found to be in collusion with persons known to be complicit in insurrection against the lawful indenture of Americo Ventures. Your crew member is unharmed, but we will hold him hostage for safe passage to our capital ship currently holding position in orbit around Vega 4. Permission denied.”
Of all the nerve... who did this grommet think he was talking to?
I am the captain, I don't ask permission.
”AV3425, I wasn't demanding, I wasn't asking, I was telling you what I am going to do. Archaea out.”
I took my finger off the comms channel. “Janis, please open the inner lock now until pressure reaches 30% then cycle it closed.” I could hear Pauli gasp in shock as I rolled to line their open lock up with our upper lock, and slammed it home as if I was parking by feel.
“Shorty, would you make entry and collect Yak from that vessel? He will be unconscious. If you happen to knock anyone's teeth out in the process, I wouldn't mind.”
“You can count on me sir.” she said with a voice that froze my blood.
*****
As the inner lock opened in a rush of air, I was hyped to the max with the trigger at half pull, ready to rock in the worst way. These bastards had Yak? Hell, they were already dead as far as I was concerned, nothing they could do would convince me otherwise.
It smelled like feet in this dank tub, feet and sweat. The lock opened into a crew compartment with crash couches to port and starboard, occupied by geared out mercs, knocked out and twitching.
Nearest the lock on the starboard side I found Yak, a mountain of mass I wasn't going to move. I tore the black hood off his head, strapped on a breather, and cranked the O2 all the way up.
As much as it hurt me, deep down, I couldn't wait all day for him to rise and shine. I slapped his cheek once, then again harder. A third slap rocked his head over and his eyes snapped open, glaring at me. I smiled, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and nodded back to the lock. He shook his head a bit to clear it, and took a few moments to look around.
I whipped out my pride and joy, a razor-sharp antique Fairbairn-Sykes commando knife strapped to my thigh. As much as I wanted to do a little bit of extra cutting with it, with considerable effort I managed to resist the urge, and sheathed it with a sigh after cutting his binders.
We stood surrounded by some of the nicest guns and gear money could buy, and his look of rampant desire was met by my own. I smiled and nodded, and moved to keep the room covered while he started collecting weapons and gear from the mercs, tossing guns, knives, grenades, and everything else that wasn't bolted to the deck through the lock
to the Archaea.
One merc started to rouse, and Yak socked him on the jaw hard enough to make my toes curl, sending him back to nap time. I kept the trigger at half cock and waited for the moment, but Yak moved fast, and we were back aboard the Archaea before I got the opportunity.
“Captain, Yak and I are back aboard. We sort of helped ourselves to just about anything that looked like a weapon, I hope you don't mind.”
“Not at all Shorty, good call. Did you have any trouble?”
“Negative Captain. Yak got an opportunity to convince someone that they should go to sleep a little longer. But I didn't get any trigger time, sir.”
“Very well Shorty, great job. Yak, so nice of you to join us, did you have a nice little adventure?”
“Oh, I would have preferred a different place for R&R, but I'll take it any way I can get it, sir. I was in a pretty tight spot, thanks for recovering me. When the inner lock flashed ambers, I thought we were doomed.”
“That was what I hoped would happen over there. Janis saved the day, as usual. She kept you on track from launch to orbit, and had you scoped as you burned through the system. Luckily for us, the Archaea is as tough as she is fast, and once we were in range, Janis took over their systems. That reminds me. Janis, what is the current pressure over there?”
“As you requested sir, I have maintained hypoxic conditions aboard their vessel with pressure at 30% of normal. Would you like me to adjust that level sir?”
“Well, I can't in good conscience kill them, but I should, by all rights. Taking my crew without my permission... that's damn impolite. In my book, a person without manners isn't a person at all.”
“Sir, we could burn their core and leave them adrift with basic enviro”, Pauli said.
Yak and I shared a look as we stowed gear in lockers along the gun deck, as much as I would have wanted to drop the hammer on any one of them that made a move, to leave them to die marooned in the endless dark... that didn't sit well with either of us.
“Might as well kill them, Pauli... this is a pretty busy system, but they might drift on through without ever being noticed at these speeds... although, that might not be so bad, to give us some time to get clear. Janis, can you lock their distress beacon so they can't activate it?”
“Absolutely sir. Might I also suggest disabling their waste handler as well?”
Yak laughed out loud, nearly dropping an armload of grenades.
“Now we're talking. A few weeks of staring at each other, smelling each other's business. That is punishment to fit the crime. Janis, go ahead and burn their core, burn it solid. Wipe anything that doesn't control enviro or basic necessities. Hardcode the ambient temperature for a few degrees above hypothermic, make them cuddle for warmth. Set their distress beacon to go off in three weeks.”
“Jane, remind me to never make our captain mad!” Yak said with a grin.
The thought of those muscle-bound mercs huddled together for warmth in the far corner of that small room. Horrible. There are fates worse than death. Looking at Yak, remembering him bound and bagged... a few weeks of cold and stink is just what they need.
“Aye sir. Do you want me to recover anything from their storage core before I wipe it?” Janis asked.
“Yes please Janis, good thinking. Anything interesting over there?”
“Sir, there is a lot of information related to Americo Ventures, shipping lanes, docking codes, access codes, station locations, frequencies. There is a block of encrypted content appears to contain intel on their security operation on New Turiana, coordinates, dossiers, transcripts and what appears to be time-stamped key blocks used to authenticate and encrypt communications.”
“Janis, that's a mother-lode of intel. Well done. Can you archive everything over here before you burn their core?”
“I have already done this sir, it was the first thing I did when we came into range.”
“Of course you did, dear. I wouldn't expect any less from you. Anything else interesting in their data?”
“One of the entries is labeled 'Suspected Insurgent Supply' and references coordinates on New Turiana. I am unable to tell if it is the correct location, but it is flagged high priority and tasked for follow up.”
“Well, that is interesting... and I see you have helpfully plotted a return slipspace route and insertion burn already, thank you dear. Yak and Shorty, let's get everything stowed and get back on station. It's time we set this ship of fools adrift among the stars.”
Chapter 7
We came out of slipspace right on the mark, close enough to New Turiana to make me recoil in horror at the sheer lunacy of it all.
“Janis, my love, do you know how terrifying it is for me to come out of slipspace within 10 kilometers of a parking orbit of a planet?”
“Captain, my analysis of your reactions to every event since my activation has shown a complete lack of fear. I was under the impression you were incapable of the emotion, sir.”
I laughed, and then fixed Yak and Pauli with my most commanding authority-class eyebrows as they started to join in. “That's true, Janis, to a point. Although I am unimaginably heroic, I have been known to show fear every so often, though I do try to limit overt displays of terror to less than ten or fifteen times per hour if I can. What really works well for me, is the threat of dire consequences to anyone who calls attention to me sucking my thumb in the corner, crying softly. Dire consequences.” I fixed Yak and Pauli with another stern look.
“Sir, if you are done crying piteously over there, please be advised we have an incoming hail from NTOC”, Yak said with a smirk.
“Very well Yak, please put it on speaker.”
“--NTOC to Archaea... NTOC, calling Archaea, over”
“This is Archaea, Orbital Control. I copy you five-by-five, over.”
“Archaea, we show you currently in the pipe for an insertion burn, is that correct?”
“Affirmative NTOC.”
“Archaea, we're not really clear as to where you came from. Our back-track of your course doesn't track very far.”
I may be half asleep from coffee deprivation, but I was awake enough to know that a little bit of fast talking was in order, or I might have to do some paperwork.
“NTOC, we arrived in orbit a few moments ago from in-system. Is it possible your scope dropped us as an environmental? We didn't burn for correction on this drop.”
“Archaea, was that a negative on correction burn?”
“Affirmative NTOC, we have a pretty accurate navicomp here, and we hit it right on the mark this time.”
I left out the part where we hurtled in to the start of the pipe at a few times the speed of light. I wasn't sure I wanted to think about that any more than I had to, and I know this poor scope-jockey didn't want to think about it at all.
“Roger, Archaea. We may have ghosted your track, we'll review and correct for next time. You are cleared for drop, the pipe is clear.”
“Roger NTOC, copy clear for drop, Archaea out.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, the last thing I want to do is spend a few hours in some office explaining our... shall we say... innovative navigation methods to some faceless bureaucrat at NTOC, waiting for my ticket to get pulled, or some fine to be assessed. I figured my best defense was just to play dumb. I do that pretty darn well.
“NTLC, this is the Archaea, on standby for drop to NTP. Please advise pan status, over”
“Archaea, NTLC. We show you currently on the hard for pan twenty. Please advise, over”
“NTLC Roger. We were there but burned for orbit on emergency basis during last howler, over.”
There was a slight pause, while the scope jocks at New Turiana Launch Control tried to decide if that was worthy of a fine. I didn't know if that's what they were doing, but it sure seemed likely. They love money on New Turiana.
“Archaea, we copy emergency launch. You are cleared for landing on pan twenty, lights are green-green-red-blue on cycle, over”
“Copy pan twenty NTLC, dropping now, Archaea out.”
I watched the clock count down, and fired retros on the mark to decelerate for planetfall. The Archaea dropped with Janis on assist, fast enough to glow at first, then lifter compensation kicked in and we all felt a little lightheaded as the black sky turned mauve, and we punched through pink clouds down to the blastpans of New Turiana Port. They had scrapers and haulers throughout the blast pans, clearing drifts of dirt and dust, glittering in the sun. The lights of pan twenty lit up for us, and I brought her in as lightly as a kiss on the cheek of a sleeping baby.
“Yak, how would you like to go on a little spin in the gig with me?” I asked, once the post-flight procedures were done.
“Sounds good sir. When do you want to head out?”
“Well, time is of the essence... let's say 30 seconds after I get some coffee. There's an alarming amount of blood in my coffee system right now, and I honestly can't recall what happened earlier than a few moments ago. I probably shouldn't have been flying anything bigger than a confident eyebrow in my condition.”
“Sounds good sir, are you expecting a peaceful mission, or should I gear up?”
“Well son, there's only a few things that can bring a tear to my eye. A lost pet, an ice cream cone on the ground, and a marine without a weapon, I think you better gear up. ”
“Sir, yes sir” he said smiling, and headed aft.
I unbuckled and stretched, and yawned enough to swallow the world. “Pauli, can you stay on station here for a bit? I need someone to stay on bridge watch, and I expect Gene and Shorty will be busy making those turrets go bang.”
“No problem, Captain. I am just going over the data Janis backzipped from the runabout. Pretty juicy stuff, sir. This will really come in handy.” I paused on my way out of the bridge and looked at his screens. I didn't see anything juicy, just a number of scrolling screens full of tables of data.
“Very well, Pauli, thank you son. I am off to see a pot about some coffee.”
The galley was cold and bright, the opposite of what I wanted out of it, coffee hot and dark. The sound of the grinder, the smell of the beans, the moist heat of the water in the press, the ignored timer. I know how long to brew, this process is part of me, it's my routine. Today has been a long day made even longer without my one true love, my reason for existence, my fully charged coffee cup. I just about broke down and wept when the rich aroma of the brew wafted through the air caressing my senses with a soft embrace.
“Gene! Is that gig ready for launch yet?” I barked, as I skipped into the cargo bay with my warm coffee cup leading the way like my one true friend.
“Dak, were you wanting to take her out?” Gene asked, with a monkey face looking into the racks. The gig was one of our prizes salvaged from the Mantis, a totally sweet little ten meter runabout.
“That's correct Gene. Yak and I are going to fly on over to these coordinates and see if there's anyone who wants to pay us a tiny little insignificant amount money for running some proscribed medical supplies right into the heart of AV territory. Sounds like fun right?”
“Only for you Dak...” he groused, waving me off of the cargo deck hatch and cycling it open.
Yak walked in from the gun deck companionway, moving like he wasn't wearing 50 kilos of gear, guns, ammo, armor, boots, knives and grenades. Yak makes a heavy chemser rifle look like a toy. He passed me a railer pistol in a shoulder harness and helped me get it strapped.
“Yak, does this pistol make my jaw look more heroic?” I asked with a serious face.
“Absolutely, sir.” he said with a smile, shaking his head as if I was stark, raving mad.
As we were talking, Gene was dropping the gig down through the deck hatch, to the blast pan below. It was a tight fit, but he made it look easy, as usual. Gene's a pro at just about everything he does, I guess gig-docking is one more skill for his resume.
While the gig powered up, I strapped in. Though it was a tight fit for my shoulders, I have to say it looked even better on me than the pistol. After I worked through the pre-flights and started the turbines, I swiveled to make sure Yak was secure, then keyed comms.
“Okay folks. Just so everyone is clear, Yak and I are going to scoot on out to the coordinates we pulled from the runabout's core, and see what there is to see. If there are friendlies there waiting to load some cargo, we'll be back soon, and looking to raise ship right away. If they aren't friendly, then we'll be back even sooner, and may need to launch considerably faster. Please be ready to launch for orbit and the great unknown, as soon as possible.”
“Aye Captain”, Pauli said. “We'll be ready sir.”
I called the tower for clearance, and with Yak's good-to-go ringing in my ears, clicked my coffee cup to the bulkhead, and raised her up on lifters for the western sky.
“Some mover, hey?” I screamed through teeth that felt like they were welded shut.
“UNNNNGGGHHH...” Yak screamed in answer, as the turbines howled like the fine precision machines they were.
I snap-rolled over to take a better look at the landscape we were hurtling over, and Yak's screams stopped abruptly. Poor kid, he's probably taking an involuntary nap... it's been a long day.
I was at the absolute limit of my capacity for joy. The gig was an incredible dream to fly, so light on the stick, and so much power. She was fully capable of an orbital shot, so mach three was hardly getting her into gear.
Mach three at this altitude was probably not too safe, but the gig had a great terrain mapper and I wanted to stay low enough to come in below sensors and fast enough to not be recognizable to anyone with eyeballs.
I rolled up on her port wing with a slight nudge on the stick, and kicked in a bit of right pedal while pulling a tight high-g turn around a rapidly approaching hillside that didn't look soft or cuddly. I held it around and linked a few more flat turns through a drainage between two windswept mesas.
Now this was flying! I was right where I belonged, hands on the stick and feet on the pedals.
It's too bad Yak wasn't awake to see this, but maybe that's for the best. I didn't want him to have to clean lunch out of the cushions.
I held her right down on the deck across a massive playa and bounced off the lifters set at 10 meters. As hot as it was across the dry borosilicate lake bed, we wouldn't look like anything more than a mirage or gust of wind to anyone looking. Hopefully no one was, but you can never be too careful.
The coordinates were coming up fast. At our speed we were hauling along at a smidgeon over a click per second, and I wanted to come in like a banshee. I had a little over a minute to go at this speed, and I wanted to try and get eyes on the situation before I considered slowing down.
Yak stirred behind me, as I was checking the terrain mapper for the most protected route. “Good morning sleepy head – did you have a nice little nap?”
“How long have I been out?” he groaned.
“Not very long, a few hundred clicks... just a few minutes, really. We're getting close, and I am going to do a pass at speed over the rendezvous in case there's any bad intentions waiting for us.”
“Sounds good sir. This gig really moves... I am definitely not used to this sort of flying.”
“Hang in there son. Did I mention yet that I am the best starship pilot in the galaxy?”
He laughed, a nervous sort of laugh.
“I am, you know. Keep this between us, but there are only a few things I don't exaggerate. My skills as a captain, and my skills as a pilot. Luckily, as that's about all I do these days, you're in good hands. I suppose the only thing I actually under-exaggerate, is my capacity for coffee – I drink a lot more than I would ever admit to.”
Of course, this reminded me I needed to stay freakishly alert, so I took a long pull off my wonderfully full cup.
“Do people live out here?” he asked.
“No, not this far out. Closer to town, it's solid with people, mostly running tubefarms, but there are all sorts of topside industries as well.”
“Tubefarms?”
“Well, as you may have noticed, Vega 6 isn't the most hospitable place unless you live in town, or want to go to the beach. Tubefarms are the main reason they colonized this rock in the first place. They're incredibly efficient, and the long summer season here they can really produce amazing crops. They're pretty easy to set up, just fire up a tunnel puncher, tap the aquifer for irrigation, and then install funnel lights. I used to work on tubefarms when I was younger, trying to make my way in the world.”
“Are there other cities on Vega 6? Is there an Old Turiana out here somewhere?”
“There used to be a bunch of cities around the inner sea, though they live on in name only, as sectors of the Warrens. Old Turiana is probably down there somewhere. It's not that people haven't tried to make a go of it out in the hinterlands, there are small communities here and there, mostly around the inner sea – but it's a hard existence out here... Hang on back there Yak, we're almost there.”
The range indicator was starting to flash and we were in sight of our destination, a small camp located along the north side of a largish mesa. Mindful of missile batteries that might be planted along the rim of the cliff, I tucked in as tight as I could and stood the gig on her starboard wing. We were right down on the deck, and moving way too fast for anyone who wasn't a bot to react – but I didn't see anything threatening, just a basic encampment, tents, fires, a few faces looking up as we blasted by, before they were flattened into the caliche dirt by the roar of our sonic booms.
I checked countermeasures, and there were no seekers, no focused beams, no radar – no emissions at all. If they were hostile, they didn't have anything that could touch us. A glom camp would have lit us up.