Free Bird Rising

by Ian J. Malone

  “Emergence clock reset and engaged,” Frank said. “One hundred seventy hours and counting until emergence in the Piquaw system.”

  The clock above the Tri-V flashed green with a hundred and seventy hours then began its countdown.

  One transition down, four to go. Taylor reopened his all-hands channel and ordered his crew to stand down from stations.

  * * *

  As expected, the next hundred and seventy hours were relatively uneventful. Oddly enough, it always took that long for a ship to proceed through hyperspace, no matter her proximity to a destination. If the ship had to go too far, as was the case for the Osyrys to Sakall, multiple transitions would be needed. Still, each transition always took a hundred and seventy hours, no more, no less.

  Just one more thing we don’t understand.

  On the final day of the first transition, Taylor woke and filled a bulb container with coffee then pulled on his mag boots for the trip up to the bridge.

  “Mornin’ y’all,” he said, pushing his weightless self to the lower level then engaging his boots for footing. “How do we look?”

  “Engineering reports Reactors One and Two are still purring like kittens,” Billy said. “All other systems continue to show in the green.”

  “Good enough for government work.” Taylor trudged to his command chair and buckled in, finding a slate with the morning duty report waiting for him. The next few minutes were spent reading over it while the others finished the prep work for Transition Two.

  “Hyperspace emergence in three…” Frank said, “two…one…mark.”

  Thankfully for Taylor, emergence from hyperspace wasn’t nearly as disorienting as transition. There was still a mild bout of nausea, followed by the thrum of the main engines coming back online, but that was about it. After a brief second, the Tri-V image returned to stars.

  “Nicely done, y’all,” Taylor said. “Now how about we—”

  “Whoa!” Frank bolted upright in his seat. “Where in the hell?”

  “Incoming!” Billy shouted.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 7: Close Encounters

  “Shields up!” No sooner had Taylor shouted the order than a massive blast rocked the Osyrys’s starboard hull. The ship shook, but Frank managed to control her as the shields came online.

  “What the hell was that?” Taylor asked as the bridge lights turned red.

  “Solar-powered laser defense satellite,” Billy answered. “At least, that’s my guess.”

  “We got any plans to shoot back?” Taylor asked.

  “Gimme a second to track the firing vector back to the source.” Billy swiped furiously at his console. “Target acquired.”

  “Blow that bushwhackin’ bastard outta the stars!” Taylor snarled.

  The Tri-V image pinged with Billy’s acquisition of the satellite. A split-second later, the dot vanished from the projection in a plume of light. All went quiet.

  “Target destroyed,” Billy said. “We are clear.”

  Taylor relaxed from his belts and straightened in his chair. “Smitty, I need you to pull double duty at damage control and tell me how bad we’re hit.”

  “No worries.” The Aussie swiped up a fresh screen on her console and ran down the data. “All things considered, I’d say it’s not bad.”

  “Explain,” Taylor said.

  “That first barrage laid quite the wallop to Sections Five through Nine,” Smitty said. “Nevertheless, hull integrity in those areas remains solid. All damage suffered after the shields came up seems relatively negligible.”

  Billy exhaled through his nostrils. “I’ll say this for the Ryley Osyrys. She can take a sucker punch all right.”

  Taylor glanced to the Tri-V. A large sphere lay several thousand kilometers off the port bow, its surface covered in swirling shades of brown intertwined with the occasional swath of blue. To the planet’s left from this vantage point hung two moons. To its right lay a broken chain of asteroids. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Frank, but Piquaw ain’t exactly known for its sprawlin’ deserts.”

  “No, sir,” the Buma said.

  “So what am I lookin’ at?” Taylor asked.

  Frank finished his task then spun his seat to face his CO. “I wish I could answer that, Chief, but I’ve got nada. I’ve rerun the nav record twice to see if I entered something wrong, but everything checks out. By all rights, we should be orbiting Piquaw. Only, the Osyrys brought us here instead.”

  Billy furrowed his eyebrows. “Straying off course in hyperspace is impossible. You enter through the stargate. Your generator steers the transition. You exit at the emergence point for the destination selected from the nav computer. That’s it.”

  Taylor turned to astrometrics. “Quint, you got any thoughts here?”

  The commander ran a palm over his bald head. “Sorry, Chief, but I’m just as clueless as the probie. Piquaw resides in a binary star system containing two white dwarves. This system, per my early analysis, seems more akin to Earth’s solar system with a single yellow dwarf at its center.”

  “This system got a name?” Smitty asked.

  “Not one that’s on record, no,” Quint said.

  Taylor did a double-take. “Are you sayin’ this star system ain’t in the Union nav atlas?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Quint pointed to the system rendered on the Tri-V. “Wherever this is, it doesn’t exist as far as the Cartography Guild is concerned, nor ostensibly does the route that brought us here. All I can say for sure is that, wherever we are, we must still be in the Tolo Arm since we’ve only transitioned once from Earth.”

  An uneasy silence descended onto the bridge.

  “What in the bloody hell have we stumbled onto here?” Smitty asked.

  An alert yelped from Billy’s station. “That’s a discussion we’ll have to table for another time. Right now, we’ve got company.”

  “Report,” Taylor said.

  “Sensors are tracking two bogies inbound to our position,” Billy said.

  “Make and model?” Taylor asked.

  Billy ran a check. “Both vessels appear Maki in origin. Looks like a cruiser and a frigate. Sensors are also tracking a Behemoth-class cargo carrier halfway around the planet, but she’s holding position.”

  Taylor wasn’t sweating the Behemoth as those ships weren’t built for combat. The cruiser and the frigate, on the other hand, were issues. “Time to intercept?”

  “The cruiser is coming from a geosynch orbit,” Billy said. “That puts her here in roughly ten minutes at current speed. The frigate is coming from the far moon, which makes it more like thirty.”

  Two red blips representing the Maki ships flickered onto the Tri-V.

  “Somebody please tell me we’ve got a stargate around here someplace,” Taylor said.

  Quint swiped at his screen. “We do. It’s just past that asteroid field from our current location, but it’s there.”

  “Helm, can we make it?” Taylor asked.

  Frank tilted his beak. “If we take a wide arc past that belt, we could probably bypass the frigate. Even still, that cruiser is close enough now that we’re gonna dance with her, whether we want to or not.”

  Taylor hoped like crazy that this system’s gate master proved less of a jerk than Earth’s. “Okay, let’s do this. Frank, lay in a course for the stargate by way of the asteroid belt. Steady as she goes.”

  “Ayew,” the Buma said.

  “Billy.” Taylor glanced back to tactical. “Gimme a tac rundown on the Maki cruiser.”

  The XO called up the ship’s schematics on his console then mirrored to a side panel on the Tri-V. “Typically, Maki warships of this class are equipped with multiple fixed missile batteries, plus two dozen tubes, give or take, spinal-mounted lasers, and anti-ship lasers near most of their key sections.”

  Hold it together, T. Taylor felt a spike of adrenaline. “Keep our defenses up for a fight, but don’t power weapons until they power theirs.”

  “S
ir?” Billy wrinkled his nose.

  “Nothin’ says these folks were behind that satellite,” Taylor said. “If there’s even a snowball’s chance they’ll give us some insight into where we are, I don’t wanna blow that by comin’ off as a hothead. We stay cool until we’ve got reason not to.”

  The XO nodded and went back to his screen.

  Please don’t give us that reason. Taylor returned his focus to comm station. “Smitty, hail that cruiser and let’s see if she’s feelin’ chatty.”

  The Aussie worked her terminal. “Preparing to broadcast on all channels. You’re on.”

  “Unidentified Maki vessel,” Taylor said. “This is the EMS Ryley Osyrys. We have inadvertently wandered into this system and mean you no harm. We wish to talk. Please acknowledge.”

  Everyone waited for a reply.

  “Unidentified vessel,” Taylor repeated. “This is the EMS Ryley Osyrys. We do not desire a conflict. Please state your intentions or we will be forced to declare you as hostile.”

  Again, no answer.

  “So much for friendly conversation” Frank grumbled.

  Taylor inhaled for a final attempt. “Unidentified Maki vessel. This is—”

  “Inbound cruiser is powering weapons!” Billy announced.

  “All crews, prepare for combat.” Taylor reset his intercom from ship-wide to engineering. “Tactical, reset condition red and arm weapons—shields forward. Keeto, I’m gonna need full power to the reactor. Helm, adjust our course to match the cruiser’s approach.”

  The low moan of engines rolled through the ship as the group sprang into action.

  “Sixty seconds to contact,” Frank said.

  “Tactical, what’s our status?” Taylor asked.

  “Forward laser batteries are charged and online,” Billy said. “Missile tubes one through four are spun hot with thirteen through sixteen on deck packing anti-missile countermeasures.”

  Taylor fought to recall his studies in search of a strategy. “Do those ships have any vulnerabilities that we know of? Somethin’ we could exploit?”

  Billy considered then shook his head. “Sorry, Chief, but no. Pound-for-pound, that cruiser is our equal in almost every way.”

  “Enemy contact in thirty seconds,” Frank added.

  Pound-for-pound. Taylor’s thoughts turned to some of the old match-fight footage he’d seen as a kid. During one specific bout, the victor had won the contest by focusing a rapid, multi-shot attack on his opponent’s left-face. That, in turn, had forced the latter to cover, thereby exposing his jaw to a full-force uppercut from down low. The result had been a knockout.

  Here’s hopin’ this cruiser fights like Glass Joe. Taylor cleared his throat. “Billy, I want you to concentrate the brunt of our assault on the portside bow of that cruiser—lasers only, repeated bursts.”

  The XO looked up. “We’ll get more punch out of missiles.”

  “I know,” Taylor said. “I also know that we’ve got one helluva journey yet to travel when this is over, and I don’t wanna do that sans most of our munitions. We open with lasers then upshift to missiles when they roll to evade. At the very least, that should back them off long enough for us to run.”

  The XO nodded and worked his controls. “Specified systems online and ready.”

  Taylor cinched up his harness.

  “Ten seconds to contact,” Frank said. “Five…four…three…”

  A volley of red dots poured from the enemy ship on the Tri-V and rocketed toward the green blip, representing the Osyrys.

  “Enemy ship has fired missiles,” Billy said. “Deploying countermeasures.”

  A chain of thumps reverberated through the hull as the Osyrys launched her anti-missiles. Back on the Tri-V, a second volley poured into space, these dots also green, and sped toward their red counterparts. The two shades clashed at center-image, sending a wash of light sweeping across the projection.

  “Enemy birds are off the board,” Billy announced. “Preparing to fire lasers…now.”

  Multiple trails of green streaked from the Osyrys’s bow in the Tri-V and streamed toward the opposing blip. The latter countered with a hard roll to port.

  “There’s our window!” Taylor shouted. “Target their fusion torch with one through four and fire!”

  A fresh plume of dots bristled from the Osyrys’s forward missile tubes and raced toward the Maki, which countered at once with anti-missiles.

  Taylor had anticipated this. Still, the hope was that at least a couple of his own birds would skirt the cruiser’s defenses to make his point.

  Not one Osyrys warhead struck pay dirt.

  “Damnit!” Taylor snarled.

  Warning klaxons rang, and lights flashed dim across the bridge as enemy lasers pelted the Osyrys’s shields.

  “What’s our play, Chief?” Quint asked.

  Taylor rubbed his temples.

  “Chief?” Frank’s voice ticked upward with alarm. “I don’t mean to rush you here, but we’re about to land smack in the crosshairs of that cruiser’s spinal mount. Whatever we’re doing, we need to get on it, fast.”

  Taylor fought frantically for perspective as the scene around him continued to unravel. He couldn’t find it. “I’m out of my depth here, Billy. I need help, and I need it now.”

  Billy chewed his lip. “Okay, Frank, listen up. On my signal, skew turn ninety degrees off axis to port. Once that happens, these guys are gonna turn to match us, at which time I plan to kick them in the nuts with everything on our starboard side plus two ship killers. Best case scenario, one or both SKs make contact. Worst case, both detonate prior to impact and maybe blind their scopes in the blast. Either way, get ready to haul ass for that stargate.”

  “Lock and load,” Frank said.

  Taylor re-keyed his intercom to ship-wide. “All crews. Brace for radical acceleration!”

  Billy fixed his gaze on his Tri-V. “Steady…Steady…And, turn!”

  The Osyrys’s engines surged to life, sending Taylor’s entire body wrenching into his harness with the sudden force of extreme gravity. For a moment, he feared he might swallow his own tongue—teeth clenched and skull buried into his chair’s headrest—but he hung in. Eventually, the pressure subsided when the Osyrys reoriented.

  “Enemy ship is coming about!” Frank announced.

  “Damn right you are,” Billy murmured with a grin. “Try this on for size.”

  A fusillade of missile fire sprayed the void between the Eagles’ flagship and her aggressor, forcing the latter to lurch hard. To her credit, the Maki warship managed to neutralize most of Billy’s assault before impact.

  But not all of it.

  A column of ship-killer-green detonated in the center of the cruiser.

  “Booyah!” Quint howled. “Enemy ship is off the board! Way to swing that fargin axe, Captain!”

  Taylor sighed with relief then braced through another wave of G forces as his helmsman accelerated toward the stargate. “Smitty, how bad are we hit?”

  The Aussie skimmed through her data. “We’ve got minor breaches on A and B Decks, but emergency bulkheads are holding,”

  “Casualties?” Taylor asked.

  “None reported so far, but responders are still en route.” Smitty faced her CO. “I’ll keep you updated.”

  A chime from the intercom interrupted the exchange.

  “Engineering to bridge!” Keeto growled.

  “Bridge here,” Taylor answered.

  “Chief, we cannot take another pounding like that,” Keeto said. “That last volley came within twenty feet of cutting clean through to Reactor One.”

  Taylor’s heart jumped into his throat. “Containment?”

  “Steady, but not for long if we’re hit like that again,” Keeto said. “My teams are starting their repairs now.”

  Billy perked up. “Whoa, hang on.”

  Crap, what now? “Keeto, I gotta go.” Taylor thumbed off the intercom and turned back to tactical. “What is it?”

  “So as it
turns out,” Billy said, “that little party of ours with the cruiser opened the door for her frigate friend to close the gap on us.”

  “ETA?” Taylor asked.

  “Two minutes,” Frank said.

  Taylor was really starting to dislike this day “Can we avoid her?”

  “Not anymore, no,” Billy said.

  Taylor rubbed his chin as the first few clusters of asteroids passed his ship in the Tri-V. “Spin up tubes six through twelve and prep to fire when that frigate’s in range. Frank, keep your foot on the gas until we reach that stargate. Smitty, get ready to hail the gate master. Tell them whatever their fee is for an unscheduled openin’, we’ll pay it.”

  “Ayew,” the group said in unison.

  Taylor shifted in his seat, eyes fixed on the Tri-V, as the red dot representing the frigate closed on their position. “Helm, status?”

  “Contact in thirty seconds,” Frank said.

  “Smitty, any word from the master?” Taylor asked.

  The Aussie shook her head. “None yet.”

  C’mon, Dumbo. Open up already so I can pay you all my peanuts. Taylor clutched at his chair arm.

  “Enemy contact in five…” Frank said, “four…three—”

  “New ship!” Billy cut in. “Repeat, we’ve got a new ship on the board!”

  Taylor searched the projection but saw nothing. “Is it the Behemoth?”

  “No, it’s…” Billy broke off, eyes darting left to right, right to left across his screen. “I swear, it was just right there!”

  Frank stabbed out a finger. “There!”

  The smallest of red blips pinged the Tri-V image, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere, and throttled up into a straight-line burn toward the frigate.

  “What is that?” Quint asked.

  “No idea,” Billy said. “Whatever it is, it must’ve been hiding behind one of those asteroids. I’ll tell you this, though, it’s coming fast.”

  “How fast?” Taylor asked.

  “Right now, it’s pulling upwards of ten Gs.”

  Taylor watched in amazement as the unknown vessel screamed toward the frigate’s aft section. There, it unloaded a thick surge of particle fire onto the latter’s torch housing.