Escape (26 page)

“Certainly. The problem with these deployments is that we’ve almost exclusively been seeing interceptors landing at our facilities. That’s probably because the carrier ships deploying these garrisons are all the new arbiter-class leviathans, which don’t carry much else.”

“And why is it a bad thing that they’re deploying interceptors?”

“It’s not a bad thing, but it is telling. As you probably know, interceptors are the smallest, fastest, and most maneuverable class of ship. They specialize in providing fighter screens for larger ships, protecting them from bomber and fighter attacks.

“Because these ships are small, one-man affairs, they can’t make long journeys. Besides not being equipped with TLS drives, there’s not enough fuel and oxygen aboard the average interceptor for a pilot to make more than a 10 hour flight. Even using the spacelanes they’ll barely make it to the nearest neighboring system.”

“So what you’re saying is that these garrisons can’t leave?”

Drethel nodded, his expression grim. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Whatever the Union is up to, they’re planning to stick around for a while. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if these were really permanent deployments.”

“One more question, Mister Shegarin, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.”

“You said these interceptors are limited in range, so would it be accurate to assume that these garrisons have nothing to do with patrolling the spacelanes?”

Drethel smiled ruefully. “That's exactly right. They won’t be able to patrol very far down the lanes, especially the longer ones, and the pilots don’t have the oxygen to spare, waiting idly for pirates to come along.”

“So if you had to guess, what would you say these garrisons are for?”

“They’re there to protect the stations themselves. Maybe from within, maybe from without
—
maybe both; I don’t know.”

“Thank you for your time Mister Shegarin.”

Drethel nodded. “It was well spent.”

The split screen disappeared and the reporter went into a closing monologue, explaining that they’d be going to a commercial break, but would be back with more details in just a moment.

Kieran turned to Ferrel, who was staring at the screen, his brow knit with worry. “I guess we know what that fleet of leviathans has been doing.”

Ferrel nodded absently. “I guess so.”

* * *

Dimmi was fuming, her nostrils flared, her chocolate-brown eyes narrowed. She leaned across the counter, toward the patroller behind the bars of the impound hangar's office.

“That's my ship in there!” Dimmi jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the broad viewport of the impound hangar. A shiny black corner of the ship in question was just barely visible.

The patroller looked bored. “Have you any proof of ownership?”

“I'm sorry, I must have misplaced that when I was being strip searched by my kidnappers! If you let me aboard, I might be able to recover the necessary documents.”

The patroller shook his head. “The vessel is officially registered to the Union Bureau of Exploration and Reconnaissance. There's no mention of you in the ship's records, or for that matter, of this vessel in yours.

“If you intend to claim salvage rights, which could be hard considering the condition of the vessel, then you need to take it up with the Union Bureau of Salvage. I can give you a comm number to call if you’d like.”

Dimmi flashed the officer a sarcastic smile. “No thank you. I'll just tell Mister Carloni that you were the reason I couldn't deliver his new corvette, then shall I?”

The officer paled. “Is that a threat, miss?”

Dimmi shrugged and batted her eyelashes at him. He was just a corporal. He couldn't have been more than 18. Just a boy. “Take it however you like.” She watched idealism fight a brief war with self-preservation on the boy's face. His gaze flicked meaningfully up to the far corner of the room, where a camera was pointed at them, watching and listening.

He leaned toward the bars, within easy reach, and said, “You'll have to make good on that threat if you want to get anywhere with me.” The way he said it, it sounded more like an invitation than a taunt.

Dimmi didn't need to be asked twice. Her hands shot through the bars and grabbed the corporal on either side of his head. She twisted his neck to the point of pain and whispered into his ear: “How's this?”

“Better,” he whispered back.

She twisted another fraction of a degree and he yelped. “Suppose you tell me the ship's security code now?”

“I don't have it memorized.”

Dimmi gritted her teeth, angry at herself for not seeing the flaw in her plan. “Then what good are you?” She tightened her grip on the boy's head, intending to slam his forehead into the counter hard enough to knock him unconscious. He probably thought she meant to break his neck.

“Wait! I have the decoder key in my pocket.”

“Well, why don't you pull it out for me?
Slowly.
” She emphasized her point by knocking his forehead into the bars of the impound office. He let out a cry of surprise and pain, then reached
—
slowly
—
into his pocket, and passed a decoder key the size of his thumb through the bars.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, whispering into his ear once more. With that, she slammed his head into the counter, saw that he was still conscious, and did it again. He went limp and slid to the floor with a quiet
thump.

* * *

“This just in: we’re going live to a developing confrontation on the Frontier between the independent planetary government of Da Shon and an
arbiter
-class leviathan that’s just dropped out of trilinear space around the planet.”

Kieran watched wide-eyed from his cell as the news program switched to footage of the
arbiter
-class leviathan in question. A comm conversation began whispering from the holoscreen's speakers.

“Attention Union starcruiser: this is Regent Ashclaw of the independent planet Da Shon. Your presence here is a violation of our sovereignty as outlined by the Treaty of Independent Systems. Please explain your intentions.”

There was a long pause in which camera drones showed the leviathan from a variety of angles. It was gleaming black and red against the flashing indigo clouds of the Blue Flower Nebula. The periodic flashes of light intermittently revealed an exterior bristling with cannon barrels and gun turrets. A pair of bridge towers rising from the back of the ship loomed over the massive superstructure
—
one on top and one on bottom.

Eventually a reply came: “This is Admiral Augran of the
arbiter
-class leviathan, Silent Reaper. We need to send some ships to the surface of your world.”

The regent's voice returned: “I'm afraid that's impossible. According to the Treaty of Independent Systems, which you have already violated with your presence, any vessel or personage officially representing the Union is prohibited from entering our space, even in the event of emergency, without invitation.”

Another long pause.

“Very well. We will find another way to accomplish our objectives.”

“So long as that doesn't involve violating our territory. We wish you luck, Silent Reaper.”

Kieran watched the arbiter-class leviathan fire it’s thrusters in long red jet of engine glow as it began to turn around.

Then something unexpected happened.

The leviathan opened fire. Three long, yellow bolts of energy stuttered out from a bank of cannons along the leviathan's flank. They impacted an instant later with a hurtling chunk of rock that Da Shon’s point defense satellites had somehow missed. Despite being easily half the size of the massive starcruiser, the rock splintered, breaking into half a dozen smaller pieces, half of which continued hurtling toward the leviathan at an even greater speed.

The newscaster cut in, describing the action in excited tones. Kieran tuned him out; he could see for himself.

The point defense satellites reacted. Long, red bolts of energy flashed past the camera and slammed into the splinters of rock. They exploded, and the fragments splashed harmlessly across the leviathan's shields, eliciting a blue-white glow from the ship.

The newscaster went on: “
.
 
.
 
.
looks as though the crisis has been averted
—
wait
—
oh, Deus no!”

Kieran heard Ferrel gasp and saw the guard sit up straighter in his chair. Every bristling cannon and gun turret on the three milé-astrom long leviathan had just erupted simultaneously. A hail of yellow laser cannon fire arrowed out from all sides of the ship, focusing in three separate directions
—
one volley for each of the TLS gate’s point defense satellites. The screen cut to footage of those satellites exploding, one after another.

The guard raised the volume of the news program with a gesture, and the regent’s voice exploded through the holoscreen’s speakers: “What in the Infernal do you think you’re doing, Silent Reaper?! Admiral, our defense satellites were NOT, I repeat NOT, opening fire on your vessel! You’ve just committed an act of war. Stand down and prepare for boarding. In the name of the independent planetary government of Da Shon, you and your crew are under arrest.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. We apologize for the mistake. We will be leaving now.”

On the screen the leviathan’s cannons stopped firing, their targets now thoroughly vaporized.

“You are not permitted to leave. You have broken interstellar law. Stand down, Silent Reaper. Our defense fleet is even now moving to intercept you. You cannot escape.”

“Then we will make a way out.”

Kieran watched the leviathan open fire again, all guns blazing, lighting up the indigo clouds of the Blue Flower Nebulae like fireworks. Tiny specks began pouring from the bottom and sides of the massive starcruiser, flying away from it at incredible speeds, forming a growing, spreading cloud around it. The camera drone which was recording for the news program zoomed in on the cloud and Kieran saw that each of those gnats was a familiar arrow-shaped fighter
—
MF-19 “Black Arrow” interceptors.

The deck shuddered under their feet.

“What in the Infernal is happening?” Ferrel asked, looking around wildly.

Kieran shook his head, watching as the news program cut to a view of Da Shon’s sizable defense fleet, as it closed in on the leviathan from two sides
—
it was made up of mostly smaller, destroyer and corvette-class ships, but there were countless squadrons of fighters and bombers. The camera seemed to pan endlessly over them, eventually cutting to a gravidar screen which showed the two fleets in their entirety.

There had to be a few thousand blips in Da Shon’s defense fleet, and more were appearing from the planet every second. The arbiter-class leviathan, by contrast, was easily the largest signature on the screen, but its interceptors numbered only in the hundreds. The Union ships wouldn't stand a chance.

Klaxons began wailing aboard the station and red emergency lights flashed. The station's intercom crackled to life, drowning out the newscaster: “Attention travelers: please follow the emergency lighting to the nearest evacuation route or hangar. We are under attack. This is not a drill.”

The deck shuddered again, and Kieran bolted to his feet and ran to the front of the cell. “Hey! Hey, there!” The guard was already out of his chair and hurriedly collecting things from his messy desk. He didn’t turn to see who had called to him. The other prisoners in the cellblock were shouting now, too, competing to be heard above the wailing klaxons. “You can’t leave us in here!” Kieran persisted.

Having collected his possessions from the desk, the guard turned to them, his expression grim. “Should have thought about that before you broke the law.”

“Hey!” Kieran angrily rattled the cell door on its rails, but the guard was already hurrying out of the cellblock.

Chapter 12

K
ieran looked around the cell wildly, searching for something, anything which might allow him to escape.

“Give it up, man. The only thing we can do is wait
—
either the Union will blast us and the station to meaningless particles, or it won't.”

Kieran ignored Ferrel and gripped the cell bars. He rattled the door as violently as he could and roared. He barely succeeded in making himself heard above the screaming klaxons and prisoners.

Ferrel groaned. “Shut up! You're all giving me a headache.”

Kieran stood panting and glaring at the bars of his cage. Then he noticed something odd. The bars he was holding were ever so slightly out of alignment. They were bent. Not by much, maybe a few degrees, but they were definitely not straight. Desperate, not knowing what else to try, Kieran tightened his grip and tested his strength against them. His face turning red from the effort, he wrenched at the bars, trying to pull them apart.