Test Subjects

by R S Penney

  When it collapsed, he was unable to detect any ships – he would have to get a hell of a lot closer for that – but this was the first time the Gate had activated since he arrived in this system, and it was unlikely that they would have sent a bubble of empty vacuum across the galaxy.

  Five uneasy minutes passed while Jack waited for something to happen. He was hoping to see the warp trails of ships leaving the system. That would at least give him some idea of where they were going and what they might be up to. It occurred to him that there was no way to be sure these were Ragnosian ships. They could just as easily be Antaurans who were using the Gate Network to go around Leyrian Space without passing through it. Leyrian territory was something of a buffer between the Antauran Dominion and Earth. These new SuperGates could be a real problem.

  Finally, he got his wish.

  Multiple blips appeared on his console: thin warp trails expanding outward from the gate in pairs. By their size, Jack figured that each one belonged to a small one-man fighter. There were ten in total…and two were headed right for him.

  Biting his lip, Jack felt the blood drain out of his face. He blinked and then gave his head a shake. That had to be a coincidence, right? There was no way they could have seen his shuttle this far out.

  Those blips just kept on coming, moving at roughly twice the speed of light. At that velocity, they would be right on top of him in just under ninety seconds. Always assume the worst. Summer wanted to chastise him for that thought, but in this instance, she was in complete agreement.

  “Computer,” Jack snapped. “Discontinue artificial gravity, and reduce our thermal emissions as much as possible. Use ventral thrusters for a sustained thirty-second burst. Let's get the hell out of their way.”

  The shuttle beeped in compliance.

  Jack's stomach began to churn as he felt the onset of weightlessness, but that lasted for only half a second. A sudden upward acceleration made him feel as if he were being pushed down into his chair. Gravitational engines offered a smoother ride, but they were also more easily detected by scanners. He fastened his seat belt.

  Gritting his teeth, Jack winced and tried to ignore the queasiness. “Come on!” he whispered. “Come on!”

  The shuttle rose.

  Those blips were still on his screen, racing toward his location. With any luck, they would rush past beneath him and fail to notice his presence. God, please let this be just one very unlikely coincidence.

  A new warp trail appeared on his screen, this one much larger than the others. It was obviously a capital ship, and just like the two fighters that he had hoped to avoid, it was coming for him, moving at six times the speed of light. That would bring it here in just under thirty seconds.

  “Restore full power,” Jack ordered. “Gravitational drives online, shields up.” He spread his hands across the control console, plotting a course out of this system. There was no denying it now; somehow, they could see him. He wanted a glimpse of whatever had come through the Gate before he fled, sensor data that would at least tell his friends what they were up against.

  A ship appeared in the window. Jack's instruments said that it was more than ten kilometres away, but even from that distance, he could see it as a gray speck that would fit between his thumb and forefinger.

  The SmartGlass drew a green box around the ship, and when it enlarged, Jack saw a massive battlecruiser shaped like the tip of a broad sword with gun ports all over its hull. More fighters dropped from the hangar bay and sped off toward him.

  Oh no.

  Slamming his hands down on the console, Jack watched the stars streak past in his window as he yawed around one hundred eighty degrees and sped off into the blackness of space. There was no way he was waiting around.

  He shut his eyes, sweat plastering dark hair to his brow, and breathed through his nose. “You can do this,” he whispered to himself. “Just like all those god damn training sims, remember?”

  But he had never piloted a shuttle through a real dogfight before. That had always been Anna's role.

  Small fighters shaped like curved crescent moons appeared on his instruments and converged on him from behind. His console screeched as they targeted him. Taking hold of the flight-yoke, Jack thumbed the hat-switch.

  The shuttle slid downward. Green plasma bolts rushed past above him, flying off into the void. His heart was racing. A crash like thunder filled his ears, and he was jostled about in his seat as more weapon's fire hit the shuttle from behind.

  Jack spread his hands across the console.

  The computer had calculated a warp jump.

  He engaged the warp drive and heard the slight hum of the engines powering up, but the warp field collapsed before forming. There was an odd sensation, like being on a boat that had just hit a powerful wave, and when it passed, Jack was still flying through space at sub-light speeds. A SlipPulse. The capital ship had used a SlipPulse to keep him from going to warp. “Damn it!”

  Once again, he was thrown about, and the cockpit lights flickered as more particle weapons pounded the shuttle. He was losing his aft shield generators. Jack grabbed the flight-yoke and pitched upward 180 degrees so that he was now flying upside-down and backwards.

  The two fighters came into view, both upside-down from his perspective. The one on the left loosed another stream of green energy bolts that sped toward him and splashed against a wall of flickering static that appeared at the last second.

  Jack didn't bother returning fire.

  He gunned the throttle, rolled 90 degrees and passed right through the narrow space between both fighters. When they were gone, he saw nothing but tiny white stars against a field of black.

  The SmartGlass drew another green box, which enlarged to become the image of the capital ship, now oriented sideways from his perspective. Don't swat at the bees when you can knock down the hive.

  He sped up.

  “You want a fight?” Jack whispered. “Fine. Let's see how much you like going up against a man who will do something suicidally stupid just to defy your expectations.”

  He reoriented the shuttle to face the battlecruiser head-on and watched as it grew larger and larger in his window. The fighters were pursuing him, but he was on the very edge of their weapons' range and flying like a madman. “Computer,” he growled. “Give me EMP rounds.”

  When it drew near, the capital ship was every bit as imposing as anything Jack had seen in a sci-fi movie, its rounded tip displaying gun ports. Green particle beams streaked toward him.

  Jack hit the hat-switch.

  Once again, the shuttle slid downward, now flying under the main ship's belly, an expanse of gray hull scrolling past overhead. Red dots appeared on the window as his instruments highlighted the locations of shield generators. Jack pitched upward slightly and fired.

  White tracers exploded from the shuttle's wings, converged on one of those shield generators and caused the damn thing to explode. It flew past before he could think, and then he was coming up on the next shield generator. Damn it, this ship was big. He fired again. Force-fields appeared to protect the capital ship, but his charged ammunition went right through them and destroyed the second generator.

  Pulling back on the flight-stick, Jack flipped the shuttle upside-down so that he and the battlecruiser were now belly to belly. Then he reversed his speed to fly back the way he had come.

  This time, the expanse of dark gray metal seemed to be rushing past beneath him. Gun turrets swiveled around to target him. Green particle beams flew from their cannons. With considerable skill, Jack bobbed and weaved around the incoming fire.

  He yawed around to align a targeting reticle on one of those dome-like turrets. He fired and watched as orange plasma bolts sped from the shuttle's wings, struck the turret and ripped it to shreds.

  The console started squawking at him.

  Bogeys coming in from all directions.

  Jack pitched upward – turning the shuttle's nose away from the battlecruiser – and then flew off into
the darkness. His instruments showed a dozen small fighters converging like a swarm of hornets around him. These were the fighters that had gone off scouting the solar system. In fact, he realized that that had been a ruse to make him think the two heading in his direction had been doing so by sheer coincidence. Whoever these people were, they had known his position from the very moment they came through the Gate.

  The shuttle shook, and the lights flickered. His instruments went blank for half a second, and when they came back online, Jack saw that he had taken severe damage. One of those particle beams had overpowered the force-field and knocked out the shuttle's aft shield generator.

  Another violent blast nearly threw him forward, face first into the console. Always wear your seat belt, children.

  “Computer,” Jack snapped. “Access the SlipGate and open a communication's channel to Leyria. Forward a copy of our sensor logues to Larani Tal.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Nearly ten fighters were coming up behind him; one of them fired, and ripped the starboard wing from the shuttle's body. Jack saw the hunk of charred metal drift past over his window.

  He looked up with a tight frown, shaking his head slowly. “Well, Summer, it looks like this is it,” he whispered. “For what it's worth, I love you, and I'm glad you were with me until the-”

  Another blast hit, and this one felt like a death knell. Alarms were screeching, and his navigational controls were fried. There was a hull breach in the cabin; the shuttle was venting atmosphere. Emergency systems kicked in, sealing the cockpit door to keep him alive. Not that it would do much good. At this point, he could only fly in a straight line and wait for those bastards to finish him off.

  Jack Hunter had never been a praying man, but he sent good thoughts out into the universe, hoping that whatever was listening – if, indeed, there was anything listening – knew that at least he had tried. He'd given it his all; no one could ask for more.

  When the next shot hit, everything went dark.

  The End of Part 1

  Interlude

  “Is this really necessary?”

  Arin stood before a slanted window with hands clasped behind his back, looking out on a starry sky. The buildings of Tarinol, one of Palissa's larger port cities, stood tall with lights shining in their windows. It was a crisp night, cool but not unpleasantly cold, which meant there were bound to be people out enjoying their social lives.

  A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he shook his head. “You have all made commitments to the Inzari,” Arin said, turning around. “You swore to obey even if you did not understand why.”

  This upper floor of this warehouse in the city's industrial sector was devoid of furnishings except for sleeping bags that had been scattered across the floor. The twelve men who stood before him all wore heavy armour and carried assault rifles. It was all Antauran gear; the vests were a little bulkier, the rifles a little larger. Last month, Arin had taken it from one of the ships he had raided.

  The one who had spoken looked up at him with pleading eyes. A handsome man with tanned skin and a big nose, he always managed to project an aura of unease. “But it will be a suicide mission,” he protested. “We do this, and we're not coming back.”

  Arin smiled and chuckled as he approached the fellow. “Have you forgotten your faith so easily?” he asked. “The Inzari can restore those who fall in battle, and they will reward those of us who serve them well.”

  Some of the others grumbled in agreement.

  Shutting his eyes, Arin focused his thoughts. The Drethen symbiont within offered no resistance as he ordered it to Bend gravity. His feet lifted off the floor and he floated for a moment. “I was faithful,” he said. “The Inzari made me strong.”

  Several men nodded.

  Already, he was beginning to feel the slight prickle in his skin that indicated fatigue in his symbiont. Arin released the Bending and dropped to the floor, landing with a slight thump. He didn't hit quite as hard as he should have, though only someone with practice manipulating gravity would notice. Palissa was slightly smaller than Leyria, and its pull was slightly weaker.

  Lifting his chin, Arin studied the men, then nodded his approval. “Today, we prove our loyalty,” he said. “Today, we fight for a cause. Perhaps we die for a cause, and if our sacrifice is true, perhaps we live again for that cause. Let's go.”

  They began to file out one by one, marching across the room to a stairwell in the corner and then descending four stories to wait for him on the ground floor. When the last was gone, Sariel emerged from the other room.

  A short, twig-like man who looked like he might be blown away by a strong wind, Sariel was very pale with a dark beard and a receding hairline. “Must you whip them up in that way?” he asked. “Their enthusiasm is hard on my senses.”

  Telepaths…

  “The men must have something to believe.”

  Sariel looked as if he had just swallowed a dose of the most vile-tasting medicine imaginable. “Perhaps…” he said. “But when I am forced to hear the thoughts of a dozen men who all plan to die in glorious battle, it takes a toll on me.”

  Arin turned on his heel to face the man with arms folded, his face a thundercloud. “You will have to go into this battle with them,” he snapped. “Are you prepared to fight alongside men who plan to die in glorious battle?”

  To his shock, Sariel's face lost even more colour, the man's eyes widening until he looked like a child at his first birthday party. “I will do what is necessary,” he replied in a ragged voice. “For the Inzari.”

  Arin grunted but let the matter drop. It would have to do. The men had been given Antauran weapons and Antauran armour. Those who did not speak the language had been taught enough Raen to understand whatever orders their squad leader shouted. This had to look convincing. It wouldn't do for the men to be speaking Leyrian when the security cameras recorded them.

  Sariel was going with them because the presence of a telepath would go a long way toward convincing the local authorities that this was a legitimate raid by Antauran forces. It was well known that all telepaths came from Antauran stock.

  For that same reason, Arin would be unable to fight beside his men. Only Leyria and its allies had access to the Nassai. If someone leaped onto the battlefield, displaying powers identical to those of a Justice Keeper, it would spoil the ruse. No, he would have to watch and hope that his men had been sufficiently trained. “Go,” Arin said. “They will be waiting for you.”

  Sariel left without protest.

  Alone and frustrated, Arin sat down with his back against the wall and curled his legs up against himself. “May the Inzari protect them,” he whispered. “May they guide those who fall into the everlasting light of truth.”

  He shut his eyes tight, quivering with impotent anger. The Bleakness take him, he should have been out there with them. But buildings in the industrial sector had cameras watching them on all sides. The presence of a dozen men marching down the street with military-grade weapons would put the whole area on high alert. That was fine. That was what Slade wanted.

  However, if Arin went out there, one of those cameras would record him, and the Justice Keepers had his image on file. Even if he concealed his face, his presence would draw the attention of law enforcement. This had to look legitimate.

  Swiping his fingers across the screen of his multi-tool, he punched in a few quick commands and brought up the footage from one man's combat visor. They were moving down a street lined with food processing centers and automated plants that constructed parts for starship engines. For the most part, this soldier – the camera feed identified him as Kimran Roth – kept his eyes focused dead ahead, but when he did glance to the side, Arin could see robots scurrying about in front of one building.

  The sound of heavy breathing in the helmet's microphone made it hard to pick up any identifiable noises, but he could hear Shan, the squad leader, barking orders. Their destination was a munitions plant that provided weapons to
the Space-Corps. Their task was simple: plant a bomb and destroy it.

  “Hold!” Shan cried out.

  Three egg-shaped security drones floated into Kimran Roth's field of vision; they hovered about fifteen feet above the road with weapons pointed at Arin's men. “Security protocols have identified you as a level-3 threat,” one said in a deep, robotic voice. “Law enforcement has been contacted. You will remain stationary until they arrive, or we will open fire.”

  The men did no such thing.

  In Kimran's peripheral vision, Arin saw one man lift his rifle and fire. Streams of thin, white tracers assaulted the security drones from multiple directions. Some hit home, frying circuits and damaging weapons systems. One drone fell out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road.

  The robots returned fire, of course. Arin heard the sound of several men yelping as they were struck by stun-rounds. Machine-like precision would allow the drones to aim for vulnerable spots like the neck or the elbow joint, placed that weren't easily covered by armour that could absorb current.

  “Threat assessment confirmed,” one drone said. “Escalating response.”

  Kimran turned his head to see the doors of a nearby geothermal plant slide apart. A box-like robot on tank treads came rolling out. It was an inelegant contraption with two large cannons in front that spat bullets at Arin's men. Non-lethal ammo. Leryians would not give their drones the ability to kill.

  Kimran was stumbling away from the advanced security drone, but similar robots were coming out of buildings on both sides of the street. It was frantic; the jerky camera movements almost made Arin dizzy, but he caught a glimpse of force-fields appearing to shield certain buildings from incoming fire.

  Then everything went gray.

  One of the robots had launched a gas grenade that had blinded Kimran and anyone else standing near him. Arin could hear several men coughing. More cries as stun-rounds bombarded them from all sides. Well, that was it…Arin had hoped that his people would have held out long enough to face actual humans, but the Leyrians had really upgraded their security systems after that incident with the Sons of Savard.