The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds (16 page)
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Authors: Debra Doyle,James D. Macdonald
BOOK: The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds
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“Professor, time to man the guns.”
“On my way,” said
Warhammer
’s gunner/copilot, and left the cockpit at a run.
Warhammer
’s gunner/copilot, and left the cockpit at a run.
“Unknown freighter, unknown freighter. This is your final warning. Cut power. Over.”
Blue fire lanced through space across
Warhammer
’s bow.
Warhammer
’s bow.
“Shields, full,” Beka whispered to herself, and suited the action to the word. Then, over the internal link to the guns, “Professor, are you there?”
“In place, my lady.”
“Under the circumstances, let’s make it ‘Captain,’” she said. “Listen, now. I have all the guns ganged to your panel. I don’t want you to hit anyone—just scare the pants off them. Got that?”
“Understood, Captain.”
“On my signal, then.”
The external comm crackled again. “Unknown freighter, unknown freighter, have your personnel move forward. I am about to destroy your engines.”
“Like bloody hell you’re going to destroy my engines,” muttered Beka. She grabbed the external comm. “RSF
Corisydron
, be advised that on my ship
I
tell my people where to stand!”
Corisydron
, be advised that on my ship
I
tell my people where to stand!”
She shoved
Warhammer
’s throttle to full forward and cut hard right.
Warhammer
’s throttle to full forward and cut hard right.
“Professor—now!”
Commander Gil had seen worse days than this one, his first back at Prime Base on Galcen, but not lately. He’d gotten in from Pleyver at the end of the base’s regular working day, and Metadi had been waiting for him.
“Well, Commander?” the General had asked.
“I’ve got everything from Pleyver, sir,” said Gil. “But I’m still waiting for a couple of reports from Intelligence.”
Which was true, as far as it went. What rankled was that after two weeks he didn’t have any firm conclusions to report.
Except that the clinic’s a pile of rubble, which we knew; and Lieutenant Commander Jessan is missing, which we also knew; and the dirtside establishment on Pleyver is in this up to their fat necks, which might surprise some people but I don’t think a moderately reformed ex-privateer is going to be one of them.
“Don’t look for miracles from Intelligence,” said the General. “You’re not likely to see any. I’ll read your report tomorrow—maybe something will have turned up by then.”
With that, the General had departed for his aircar and the roomy, sprawling house in the northern uplands where he lived alone these days; and Commander Gil had headed—by way of a shower, a shave, and a change of uniform in lieu of a meal—for his own smaller office and an all-night job of writing.
He poured himself a cup of cold cha’a from the office urn and carried it over to his desk. The stack of datadisks and printout flimsies hadn’t vanished while he was away. Draining the cup and setting it aside, he laid out his notes on his desk and began shuffling them. He was still shuffling when the office comm link buzzed.
“Commanding General’s Office, Commander Gil speaking; this is not a secure line; may I help you?” he recited, his mind still on the slips of paper with their scribbled jottings.
“Is the General there? He’s needed in Command Control at once.”
“Sorry. He’s on his way home. I’ll patch you through to his aircar.”
Gil punched the button to complete the connection, then stood and stretched.
He’ll expect me at CC when he gets there, so I might as well go now and find out what’s up.
He’ll expect me at CC when he gets there, so I might as well go now and find out what’s up.
Command Control, when Gil arrived, looked the same as always—dim red lights, winking comp displays, and hushed activity—but he hadn’t felt so much tension in the air since the time a spaceliner had suffered explosive decompression on its jump-run off Peygatai. Rescue efforts on that one had been a bitch; if the trouble now was even half as bad, this was going to be one of the nights when the Space Force earned its pay.
That’s interesting
, he thought, as the big holodisplay monitor in the center of Command Control winked into life.
They’re lighting up the main battle tank
. That particular display meant only one thing: somebody out there in the civilized galaxy was doing some shooting, and the Space Force was planning to shoot back.
, he thought, as the big holodisplay monitor in the center of Command Control winked into life.
They’re lighting up the main battle tank
. That particular display meant only one thing: somebody out there in the civilized galaxy was doing some shooting, and the Space Force was planning to shoot back.
A comptech worked at one of the tank terminals, keying in a yellow sun and a ten-planet system. In the tank, the fourth planet out began to blink. That would be where the action was. Gil looked at the nearest comp for information.
The readout identified the blinking planet as Nammerin.
Where have I heard of that place recently?
Gil wondered, before remembering that Nammerin had been the missing Lieutenant Commander Jessan’s last duty station before Pleyver. Close by the planet, a tiny blue triangle and a swarm of blue dots marked RSF
Corisydron
and six of her fighter craft. The lone red dot in the swarm would be the unknown/hostile vessel.
Where have I heard of that place recently?
Gil wondered, before remembering that Nammerin had been the missing Lieutenant Commander Jessan’s last duty station before Pleyver. Close by the planet, a tiny blue triangle and a swarm of blue dots marked RSF
Corisydron
and six of her fighter craft. The lone red dot in the swarm would be the unknown/hostile vessel.
At the watch officer’s command, the display in the battle tank enlarged to show only Nammerin and its moons, instead of the entire star system. Gil saw that the
Cory
was using the classic setup for blocking a jump to hyper. Right now, the
Cory
’s fighters were swarming the unknown, trying to prevent the hostile ship from maneuvering. Meanwhile the
Cory
herself would sit on the unknown’s projected jump point, and let the fighters keep the hostile craft from finding another point for as long as it took to disable her.
Cory
was using the classic setup for blocking a jump to hyper. Right now, the
Cory
’s fighters were swarming the unknown, trying to prevent the hostile ship from maneuvering. Meanwhile the
Cory
herself would sit on the unknown’s projected jump point, and let the fighters keep the hostile craft from finding another point for as long as it took to disable her.
The tactic worked most of the time, but not always. As Gil watched the battle tank, now being updated in real time by datalink from the cruiser, he saw the unknown moving ahead faster than the
Cory
’s fighters.
Cory
’s fighters.
He pursed his lips in a soundless whistle.
Whoever that guy is, he must have hell’s own power plant.
Whoever that guy is, he must have hell’s own power plant.
“
Corisydron
reports her fighters under fire,” announced the duty comm tech.
Corisydron
reports her fighters under fire,” announced the duty comm tech.
“Roger. Pass to
Corisydron
, Condition Red, Weapons Free,” called the watch officer.
Corisydron
, Condition Red, Weapons Free,” called the watch officer.
Gil strode over to the log comp to catch up on what had led to this point. Scanning the entries, he saw that the
Cory
, responding to a planetside distress call relayed through the Space Force Medical Station, had reported an unknown contact.
Cory
, responding to a planetside distress call relayed through the Space Force Medical Station, had reported an unknown contact.
What’s this? Probable kidnapping of two Space Force officers by the unknown … Mistress Llannat Hyfid and Lieutenant Ari Rosselin-Metadi. Damn. Not again.
So far, Commander Gil had been enjoying the situation more than not. As the General himself had said during the spaceliner mess, somebody who couldn’t appreciate a good disaster had no business being in their line of work. Now, though, the nervous, adrenaline-rush excitement went out of him like air out of a punctured balloon.
He advanced the log screen. First contact—
Libra
-class freighter, not responding to signals. A shot across the freighter’s bow. Then, at the point where Gil had walked in, the fighters’ return fire and her increase in speed.
Libra
-class freighter, not responding to signals. A shot across the freighter’s bow. Then, at the point where Gil had walked in, the fighters’ return fire and her increase in speed.
Gil stared at the comp screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blue lights blocking and surrounding the red one in the main battle tank, as the red dot side-slipped out of yet another of the fighters’ trapping patterns.
A Libra-class freighter. Same as Warhammer. Same as
Pride of Mandeyn
. Those ships haven’t been made for almost a hundred years; and now I’ve run into three of them. And each one faster than the stats allow.
Pride of Mandeyn
. Those ships haven’t been made for almost a hundred years; and now I’ve run into three of them. And each one faster than the stats allow.
A cold sensation started in the pit of Gil’s stomach, and began spreading outward. The commander was hearing a voice in his mind—General Metadi’s voice, speaking to Master Errec Ransome on a spring night eight months or more ago: “
I had Sunrise Shipyards rip out the old engines and put in the big Hyper King Extras.
”
I had Sunrise Shipyards rip out the old engines and put in the big Hyper King Extras.
”
A second later, the comptech working the battle-tank terminal let out a yell. “We hit him!”
B
EKA LOOKED ahead out of
Warhammer
’s cockpit window. The big cruiser was still hanging there, just this side of the
’Hammer’s
jump point on her current course. At least the shields were holding. So far, the fighters hadn’t been able to close the range.
EKA LOOKED ahead out of
Warhammer
’s cockpit window. The big cruiser was still hanging there, just this side of the
’Hammer’s
jump point on her current course. At least the shields were holding. So far, the fighters hadn’t been able to close the range.
Time to figure a new jump
, Beka told herself.
Try for a point barely astern of him. That’s hardest for him to move to cover, and my course change’ll be so small he might not detect it right away.
, Beka told herself.
Try for a point barely astern of him. That’s hardest for him to move to cover, and my course change’ll be so small he might not detect it right away.
She heard a hammering sound on the
Warhammer
’s starboard quarter. On the control panel, a warning light flashed to life.
Warhammer
’s starboard quarter. On the control panel, a warning light flashed to life.
“Damn,” she said, under her breath. One of the fighters had scored a hit, in spite of the really spectacular light show the Professor was putting on. “Another good idea shot to hell.”
She reversed thrust to put the
Warhammer
into a sudden slowdown. All six of the fighters sped past, jets glowing. Beka brought the
Warhammer
back to full forward, throwing in some up vector to keep the fighters bunched on the ’
Hammer
’s ventral side. That way, they’d foul their own ranges, and have to waste time and power in avoiding collisions.
Warhammer
into a sudden slowdown. All six of the fighters sped past, jets glowing. Beka brought the
Warhammer
back to full forward, throwing in some up vector to keep the fighters bunched on the ’
Hammer
’s ventral side. That way, they’d foul their own ranges, and have to waste time and power in avoiding collisions.
Besides, this wasn’t the way the drill was supposed to go—maybe the pilots would outrun their own training. Her father always said that most fighter pilots were crazy kids still young enough to think they were immortal. The Republic hadn’t seen any serious fighting since the Magewar; none of these pilots were likely to be combat veterans.
Not that I’m a combat veteran either,
Beka reminded herself
, but I’ve heard all of Dadda’s stories. Twice.
Beka reminded herself
, but I’ve heard all of Dadda’s stories. Twice.
Ahead of her,
Corisydron
moved to block the new jump point.
Corisydron
moved to block the new jump point.
Son of a bitch figures the jump faster than I do. I’m going to have to get a computer upgrade next chance I get.
She caught herself estimating just how far back a comp system fast enough to outthink a cruiser would set
Warhammer’s
numbered account on Suivi Point, and began to laugh.
Later, girl, later.
Warhammer’s
numbered account on Suivi Point, and began to laugh.
Later, girl, later.
Now the fighters were coming in again, grouped in two wedges. One fighter began to falter and slow, and a trail of reflected sunlight started forming behind the limping craft—the sloughed-off lining of its jets, condensing in space’s endless cold.
He’s down hard with engine problems,
she thought.
Only five to go—and I can’t shoot them. Or I’ll never be able to go home again.
she thought.
Only five to go—and I can’t shoot them. Or I’ll never be able to go home again.
She put
Warhammer
onto a new course for yet another jump point beyond and astern of the cruiser. Closer and closer she ran, until finally the huge vessel began to turn—but away from
Warhammer
, not toward her.
Warhammer
onto a new course for yet another jump point beyond and astern of the cruiser. Closer and closer she ran, until finally the huge vessel began to turn—but away from
Warhammer
, not toward her.
Beka frowned.
What’s this?
What’s this?
Still frowning, she began the final tick-down for the run to jump. The cruiser finished its long, looping turn, and began accelerating again on a convergent course. The fighters continued to swarm on
Warhammer
’s ventral side, firing but doing no real damage at the longer range with their light weapons.
Warhammer
’s ventral side, firing but doing no real damage at the longer range with their light weapons.
She checked the sensor readouts. Not only had
Corisydron
paralleled
Warhammer’s
course; the Space Force vessel had also matched speeds with the freighter.
Good thing we’re inside the minimum range of his guns—and the fighters don’t dare shoot us for fear of hitting him.
Corisydron
paralleled
Warhammer’s
course; the Space Force vessel had also matched speeds with the freighter.
Good thing we’re inside the minimum range of his guns—and the fighters don’t dare shoot us for fear of hitting him.
But he’s so close, his field is interfering with my jump. I can’t jump with him so near, I can’t turn without colliding with the little guys—time to see who’s the fastest.
She pushed the throttle lever forward again.
Sudderily, warning lights blazed on all over the panel. Alarms began hooting and beeping.
Warhammer
’s controls vibrated under her hands, and she could feel the whole frame of the spacecraft starting to buck and tremble around her.
Warhammer
’s controls vibrated under her hands, and she could feel the whole frame of the spacecraft starting to buck and tremble around her.
“Damn,” she said aloud, over the rising howl of the freighter’s oversized engines. “The bastard’s got a tractor beam on me.”
“He’s maneuvering again,” said the comptech at the tank terminal. “And he’s fast.”
Gil walked over to the watch officer. “Has he hit us?”
“Not yet.”
Gil took a deep breath. “All right,” he said to the watch officer. “I am ready to relieve you.”
The watch officer stared. “What do you mean? This is
my
watch!”
my
watch!”
Gil met the other man’s incredulous gaze. The maneuvers in the main tank were shaping up as the nicest little space battle Command Control had seen in years—in the watch officer’s shoes, Gil wouldn’t have wanted to let go of it, either.
So here I am, about to cycle a perfectly good career out the airlock. Life’s a bitch.
So here I am, about to cycle a perfectly good career out the airlock. Life’s a bitch.
He pushed down the urge to leave the whole thing in the watch officer’s eager hands and asked, instead, “Commander, what’s your lineal number?”
“Seven eight seven two, zero zero two three,” replied the watch officer, in something close to a snarl.
“My number is seven eight seven two, zero zero one six. I’m senior to you, and I’m taking the watch.”
“I protest!”
“Fine. Send a letter to the Board.” Gil raised his voice to carry into the farthest reaches of the space. “In Control, this is Commander Gil. I have the watch.”
The man he’d relieved snapped “Log that!” at the duty comptech. Gil ignored them both and walked over to the battle comm—Space Force’s highest-priority, highest-security communications system.
“Give me the comm.”
The petty officer gave him the handset. Gil keyed it and waited for the double beep of the crypto synchronizing.
“Corisydron,
this is Space Force Control. Condition White, Weapons Tight. Break off at once, return to base. Acknowledge. Over.”
this is Space Force Control. Condition White, Weapons Tight. Break off at once, return to base. Acknowledge. Over.”
“Dropped synch, over,” a distorted, faraway voice replied.
Gil’s lips tightened. The CO of the
Cory
wasn’t any more eager to let go of this one than the watch officer here on Galcen had been. That “dropped synch” was a polite way of asking if the speaker on the other end still had all his synapses firing in order.
Cory
wasn’t any more eager to let go of this one than the watch officer here on Galcen had been. That “dropped synch” was a polite way of asking if the speaker on the other end still had all his synapses firing in order.
“This
is
Space Force Control,” he repeated. “Break off at once. Return to base. Acknowledge. Over.”
is
Space Force Control,” he repeated. “Break off at once. Return to base. Acknowledge. Over.”
A long pause from the
Cory
, and then, “Will comply. Out.”
Cory
, and then, “Will comply. Out.”
Up in the main battle tank, the blue triangle and the smaller blue pips peeled away from the unknown. The red dot sped on, holding a straight-line accelerating course, then flickered out.
He’s jumped.
Gil let out his breath in a long, shaky sigh. Behind him, he heard the
swoosh-snick
of the door sliding open and closing again, and then the General’s unmistakable voice. “Is somebody going to tell me just what’s going on here?”
swoosh-snick
of the door sliding open and closing again, and then the General’s unmistakable voice. “Is somebody going to tell me just what’s going on here?”
Gil turned to the officer he had summarily relieved. “You have the watch.”
By now, the junior commander had choked himself nearly purple with suppressed rage. “Why, you—! Sir, he—!”
The General cut him off with a gesture, and kept his eyes fixed on Gil. “I suppose you have an explanation for all this.”
“Yes, sir,” said Gil.
Metadi’s voice was quiet, almost gentle. “Would you like to share it with us, Commander?”
Gil finally found his own voice. “Perhaps we’d better go into your office, first … .”
With the dazzle of the jump still hanging before her eyes, Beka punched in a hyperspace course for the safe haven of the Professor’s asteroid base, then leaned back in the pilot’s seat with a sigh.
Time to go aft and straighten things out with Ari
, she thought.
, she thought.
But her knees didn’t want to hold her up, and what had started as a trembling in her fingers grew into a case of the shakes that went through her entire body.
You’re amazing,
she told herself
. A real classic. You can pilot anything with engines, you can hold your own in a knife fight against a man three times your size—and the very thought of walking up to your brother and saying “Hi there, I’m alive” takes all the strength out of your knees.
she told herself
. A real classic. You can pilot anything with engines, you can hold your own in a knife fight against a man three times your size—and the very thought of walking up to your brother and saying “Hi there, I’m alive” takes all the strength out of your knees.
She put her hands over her face—Tarnekep Portree’s face, with the queued-back hair and the red plastic eye patch—and kept them there until the shaking stopped. Then she took a deep breath, wrapped Tarnekep’s arrogance around her like a protective cloak, and got to her feet.
“All right, big brother,” she said softly, settling Tarnekep’s knife in its sheath and Tarnekep’s blaster in its holster, “here I come.”
In
Warhammer
’s common room, Nyls Jessan felt the fleeting wave of disorientation as the freighter jumped into hyperspace, and let himself relax.
Warhammer
’s common room, Nyls Jessan felt the fleeting wave of disorientation as the freighter jumped into hyperspace, and let himself relax.
“Maybe I should have used heavy stun, after all,” he said as he undid the safety webbing. “Oh, well—I suppose even being an interplanetary desperado takes practice.”
Ari gave him a dark look. “Next time you drag me away from work to watch a space battle, Jessan, I expect better seats.”
“I’ll try to oblige,” he said. “Ari, there’s something you ought to know before—”
“No,” said Ari. “I want to hear this Captain Portree of yours explain it to me himself.”
Jessan flinched.
This is a fine time to remember that you’ve never seen the big guy get really angry … and Ari is not the sort of person who’s likely to find Tarnekep Portree amusing. Not at all.
This is a fine time to remember that you’ve never seen the big guy get really angry … and Ari is not the sort of person who’s likely to find Tarnekep Portree amusing. Not at all.
He glanced over at Llannat. The Adept shook her head and gave a helpless shrug. The common-room door slid open.
Warhammer
’s captain stood on the threshold, surveying the three passengers with a disdainful, bicolored gaze.
’s captain stood on the threshold, surveying the three passengers with a disdainful, bicolored gaze.
Ari rose to his feet. In the cramped space of the ’
Hammer
’s common room, he looked gigantic, and Jessan realized with a sinking feeling that for once the big medic was making absolutely no attempt to play down his size and strength.
Hammer
’s common room, he looked gigantic, and Jessan realized with a sinking feeling that for once the big medic was making absolutely no attempt to play down his size and strength.
He doesn’t recognize her,
thought Jessan unhappily.
Now there really will be hell to pay.
thought Jessan unhappily.
Now there really will be hell to pay.
“Captain Portree,” Ari said, cold and carefully polite. “Or so I assume.”
Beka favored her brother with a tight-lipped, crooked smile. “That’s what they call me,” she agreed.
She crossed her arms and leaned one shoulder against the bulkhead with an air of casual arrogance. “And I’d say you’re that Lieutenant Rosselin-Metadi I keep hearing about.” She shook her head. “You really ought to be more careful about answering emergency comm calls.”
“In future,” said Ari, “I will be.” The deep, even voice never altered—but Jessan could hear the anger in it just the same. “How did you come into possession of this ship, Captain?”
Beka shrugged one shoulder. “Let’s say I bought her.”
Bloody-minded little bitch
, thought Jessan, with a sense of despair.
Can’t you see this isn’t the time … ?
, thought Jessan, with a sense of despair.
Can’t you see this isn’t the time … ?
“Let’s say you didn’t.” Ari had taken a step forward. That much closer to Beka and the doorway, he looked even bigger. “This isn’t
Pride of Mandeyn—
we both know that, so there’s no point in pretending. It’s
Warhammer,
that was supposed to have crashed onto the Ice Flats outside Port Artat eight Standard months ago.”
Pride of Mandeyn—
we both know that, so there’s no point in pretending. It’s
Warhammer,
that was supposed to have crashed onto the Ice Flats outside Port Artat eight Standard months ago.”
He took another step closer to the doorway. “What did you do to my sister, Captain Portree?”
This has gone far enough
, Jessan thought. “Ari,” he said. “Don’t be too—”
, Jessan thought. “Ari,” he said. “Don’t be too—”
Beka glanced in his direction for the first time. “Stay out of this. It’s between Lieutenant Rosselin-Metadi and me.”
Jessan swallowed, feeling a bit sick.
This is all my fault. She really did expect him to know her—after I figured out her secret, she must have been certain her own brother could do the same. But Ari just isn’t flexible enough when it comes to looking at some things … .
This is all my fault. She really did expect him to know her—after I figured out her secret, she must have been certain her own brother could do the same. But Ari just isn’t flexible enough when it comes to looking at some things … .
Beka had already turned back to her brother without waiting for a reply. “Concerned about your sister, are you—Lieutenant Rosselin-Metadi?”
Ari clenched one hand into a massive fist. “Portree, if you’ve hurt her—”
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