The Bright Black Sea (63 page)

The Striker looked, at first glance, very similar to
a freighter like the
Lost Star
in size and appearance.
Closer inspection showed that it had two large turret missile
batteries in place of our no.1 hold. It also showed a lot of dents
and scars, with a large hole aft. I had to wonder what the losers
looked like. Probably thinning clouds of small pieces. Its two
remaining holds were fitted – for this operation anyway – with a
modular docking structure for the eight jump fighters, a control
room, and crew quarters built into standard shipping containers.
D'Lay said that everything in the hold was secured by standard
docking bars so that different operational setups could be
installed depending upon the mission. In this case, it meant that
the modules could be broken down into sections, removed and
re-installed in our holds using the ship's freight cranes with a
great deal of expediency. Because we still had no. 2 and no. 3
holds combined from transporting the guard boats, we were able to
transfer and reinstall the whole jump boat instillation over the
course of five watches. Less than two days after arriving alongside
the Striker we were ready to set out to break the siege of Boscone
Reef.

The ambush of the Striker was a clear signal that
D'Lay's group had lost any element of strategic surprise so in
order to gain a little tactical surprise upon our arrival, we set
out on a dog leg course that would take us through a stream of gas
and dust four days from the edge of the very dense asteroid cluster
that made up the vast reef of Boscone and at an approach 45 degrees
off of what a direct course would have carried us. A longer voyage,
but if D'Lay felt it safer, I was all for it.

Five days after leaving the battered Striker behind,
D'Lay had offered to introduce me to a Omni-V jump fighter, having
heard of my love of rocket boats – he claimed – and with somewhat
mixed feelings, I'd accepted. It would be another old spaceer
claimed yarn someday...

A Omni-V jump fighter is designed for maximum
maneuverability in a minimum of time. It has a slim fuselage, just
wide enough for two pilots to sit side by side in the cockpit with
a large fuel tank aft. Its engines are mounted midship at right
angles to the fuselage, extending like barbells on either side of
the fuselage. The barbell part houses five rocket nozzles facing in
four directions and one straight out. The output of the rocket
engines can be shunted between one or two of these nozzles nearly
instantly, essentially making the boat's main engines, its steering
engines, able to instantly send it off in any direction. Circling
fuselage, barbell to barbell, is a broad ring that houses the
micro-missile launch tubes and missile magazines. The Omni-V
fighter is not built for extreme speed, but rather extreme
maneuverability – limited only by the endurance of the human pilots
– which makes it nearly impossible to track and hit with ship to
ship missiles.

Larger rocket ships can carry more, bigger and longer
range missiles, but they can alter their course only marginally in
the time frame of a missile attack and predictably as well, making
anti-missile screens their only effective defense from hyper-speed
anti-ship missiles. For this reason D'Lay had the Striker's
remaining military grade anti-missiles transferred to the
Lost
Star
since even our newly enhanced anti-meteor missiles would
not protected us from a determined attack of hyper-speed missiles
which the forces of Depar were known to deploy.

The Omni-V, commonly referred to as a
jump
fighter
, utilizes its hyper-maneuverability to dodge most
anti-ship/anti-missile missiles, and its own anti-missile missiles
to destroy those it can't evade, while it closes in on enemy ships
to destroy their missile batteries, engines or even the ship with
their stock of more powerful, anti-ship missiles. Since in this
conflict they'd likely be facing standard merchant ships pressed
into service, the eight jump fighters we were carrying represented
a military force that could inflict serious damage on Despar's
makeshift fleet and tip the whole balance of power in this drift
war once they could reach Despar's most powerful opponent, the
planet and asteroid reef of Boscone.

D'Lay carefully backed us out of the boat deck davis
that he'd brought the boat around to for this flight.

'Com link synced. Time to get comfy, my dear. The red
button will tuck you into the full cocoon. Your arms fit in the
recessed slots here and here,' he said pointing, as the seat began
to close in around me, to hold every part of me absolutely
still.

'You may experience a brief spell of claustrophobia
as you get tucked in, but it will pass,' he continued. 'Humans are
the frailest part of a Omni-V, and we need to be treated with as
much care as possible. All the controls are at your
fingertips...'

I'm not claustrophobic as a rule, but as the seat
sealed me in, letting me only move my fingers, I'll admit to
feeling a bit panicked. 'Is this really necessary?'

'Yes. Take a deep breath or two. You'll be fine. It's
necessary since the vector changes can be so great that not only
would they fling any part of you not sealed in, but some will be
drastic enough to make you unconscious even in the cocoon. The
Patrol cheats a bit on Unity laws and allows the ship itself to
manage its affairs when you black out. These ships are copies the
Order reconstructed from captured wreckage long ago, but they work
as well or better than the Patrol versions since we've added AI
technology to make them even more autonomous. We're less picky
about Unity robotic laws in the drifts. These boats will evade
hostile missiles on its own, you shouldn't try to interfere with
that function. It'll do so far more efficiently and safely than you
ever can. Your job as pilot is to work your boat close enough to
your target ship to allow it to deliver your missiles into a
selected target ship at a range too close for them to effectively
respond. Usual targets are the ship's defensive tubes to suppress
their counter fire, the engine room, or the crew section if you
want reduce the ship but salvage the cargo, or you can simply go
for the fuel tanks or the rocket tubes if you want them out of the
way entirely.'

'Right. Are your services in great demand?'

'The drifts are vast, Wil. Hundreds of billions of
people spread across millions of rocks, from vast reefs of
asteroids to moons and planetoids up to planets like Zilantre. The
Unity downplays our importance, and generally turns a blind eye to
what accounts for 80 percent of the Nine Star Nebula, at least
publicly. But there's a whole lot of activity throughout the deep
drifts, a constant churn of people, wealth and ambitions which
often sparks violent struggles. However, we usually see hot action
only every couple of years, so training or deployment as a
deterrent fills in a lot of our time. Most of my pilots are
freelance, but reliable, adding with a smile, 'They know the price
of betrayal.'

'Ever go freelance yourself, just to keep busy?' I
asked, just talking my way to some sort of calm.

'You mean turn pirate?'

'Well, that's what we'd call it in the Unity, but I
gather that's just business and the risk of doing business in the
drifts. At least for some.'

'Everyone's a potential future customer and it'd
reflect poorly on the mission of our Order if we went about
building an empire of our own, so no. We're experts for hire with
no stakes in the games beyond our fee. So now are you ready?'

'I suppose so. How do you fly this contraption?'

'Hang on and I'll show you,' he said, adding as we
shot up like an express elevator and forward, the heavy hand of
inertia pushing me this way and that, 'And don't worry, the ship
monitors your condition and keeps you in tip top form.'

We took everything at half speed, or so he'd like me
to believe and when it came to my turn to fly it, I kept everything
at a quarter speed. We went out to the sentry boat and using low
powered laser cannons, played a game of tag to show me how they
fought these boats. Even with the boat helping, I was pretty bad,
though I eventually found it to be interesting. A rocket boat is a
rocket boat, even if it has its engines installed the wrong
way.

We were drifting off the
Lost Star's
boat deck
two hours later as the seats released us from their grasp when he
said, 'Some of your crew have expressed an interest in flying these
boats. I told them I'd have to clear it with you first.'

'Ah' I thought, as I looked across at him in the dim
display lit cockpit. 'Are we naming names?'

'Tallith, Vyn, Ten and Molaye. 'No mysteries, people
who like to fly rockets.'

'And your honest reaction?'

'I'd like to take them up on it. We could use the
help. Not to fight, mind you, that's far too specialized and
dangerous. Just as picket pilots. A three hour watch per day. I'd
like to keep my crew as fresh as possible for the real show, and if
I could use several of your people on picket duty each day, it'd
help a lot. We'd train them, of course, but if anything that might
be unfriendly object should show up, I'd scramble my crew and get
your crew's boat in. Neither of us wants to lose a pilot, or a
boat. I don't think we'd be risking their lives doing routine
picket duty. And I know you can spare'em when not under power, and
they'd be contributing to everyone's safety... So what do you
say?'

'Is it my decision? I don't really think the owner
needs my permission.'

'She felt it falls within your bailiwick. An
operational decision.'

I considered the implications. It made sense, I
suppose.

'I'm not going to tell Tallith what to do, and since
both Vyn and Ten are ex-Patrol, I'm sure they'd be a welcome
addition to your force. I believe they've done some training on
jump boats... So the only one I'll not let you have is Molaye.
She's too young, too inexperienced.'

'I understand, but I have to say she really wants to
do it and, I gather, a natural pilot,' said D'Lay, adding with a
grin, 'So I'll leave it to you to tell her.'

'Thanks.'

04

Molaye didn't take it well. I'd asked her to step
around to my office after her watch. Moon born and raised, she's
usually elegantly willowy, but when she' angry, she gets ram rod
straight and towering. She was angry now. 'Why?' she snapped
glaring down at me, adding 'Captain,' only reluctantly, angry at
herself for adding it at all. For a junior pilot, she gets awful
bold. The trouble is that she knows me too well.

'To start with, because I say so.'

'My dad used to say that too. It didn't wash . And
you're not my dad.'

'No, I'm not. I'm your captain, pilot Merlun, so it
will work for me. This is a Guild ship and unless you've fallen in
love with the drifts, you'll do well to remember that. And, while
we're on the subject, you might do well to remember who I am and
what I can do for your career,' I shot back, in mostly mock anger.
I must admit to admiring her spirit. I didn't have to put up with
it often, so I let the occasional lapses of good judgement
slide.

She almost let the smile cross her lips, but caught
it before it left her eyes. She pivoted in an instant, 'Sorry, sir.
But I've my heart set on piloting a jump fighter. Please, Captain.
You know I love rockets, and speed. I'm certain I can handle
them... This is likely my only chance in my whole life! Can I do
it? Please.'

'I'm sure you'd be able to fly'em like a pro in no
time. It's not that...'

'Then what is it? Sir?'

I sighed. 'It's nothing to do with flying, Molaye. It
has to do with using them. They're designed to kill people. And I
feel that you're too young to kill people. If you want to do that,
you'll need to sign on with the Patrol or Captain D'Lay's group.
But I think you'd be wise to stay a tramp ship pilot.'

'But we're not going to killing anyone. We're not
even allowed in a battle. It's just for boring old patrol
duty...'

'Right. Right up until we get jumped on by a dozen
ships out of a drift and all bets are off. Or when their pilots are
too battered or worn out to fight. They'll ask for volunteers and
it'll be kill or be killed. I don't want you to be in that
position. Your dad made Captain Miccall promise to keep you out of
danger when he arranged for your apprenticeship aboard us...'

She grinned. She was racing rocket sleds at the time,
and her father, seeing some great difference between racing rocket
sleds and crater buggies, had called in some old favors and
arranged for the apprenticeship to fly a far larger rocket and see
a bit of the Nebula. She'd reluctantly agreed, but had settled
smoothly into the life of a tramp ship pilot. Still, more than a
trace of that “rockets away” racing pilot clung to Molaye.

'Plus, I think you don't really want to be a fighter
pilot, you just want to go fast...'

She looked away. 'I do want to go fast, Captain. But
it looks like so much fun... But if I'm needed to defend my
shipmates and
my ship,
I want to be able to
do so. Please, can I just learn how to fly them?'

The problem was, and I knew this from the get-go,
that I couldn't deny Molaye anything, within reason. She's my first
protege. And she is so good with rockets, well machines really, a
natural. I really couldn't deny her this opportunity to fly these
rare and special rockets.

I sighed. 'Alright, just flying. No fighting. When
things get iffy, you won't be flying. Ten and Vyn are old pros, so
I won't tell them not to go out, and Min is my boss, so I can't
tell her not to. But with you, I can, and will. And I don't want to
hear a word, or get one of your looks when I ground you.
Understood?'

She flashed me her winning smile, 'Thanks Skipper!
You're a dear – just like my dad!'