Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins

by Simon Goodson

  “What is it?”

  “Some of the children got impatient and sneaked off the Willow. Some of their parents followed. About sixty children and twenty or thirty parents. The crowd broke through our lines when they saw their relatives coming off the ship. They’re mixing together now.

  “All right. We knew we couldn’t keep them back forever. Has everyone that’s come off the ship been checked?”

  “Yes, Commander. No one can get past us without being checked. We’ve found nothing so far.”

  “All right. Try to prevent anyone else leaving just yet, but don’t use force. These are our people.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  These are our people. Marsh realised for the first time he was starting to believe that. All the checks were clear. No one even had a temperature. Maybe, just maybe, things would work out. If the fighters didn’t get through.

  He checked his display. Two fighters were down already. A third disintegrated as he watched, then a fourth. One hundred seconds to go. The seconds ticked down to ninety with hardly a hit on the incoming ships, then the targeting managed to recalibrate on new targets.

  Marsh had assumed all attackers would be in large ships, that the danger would come from overwhelming power. Not from ultra-fast fighters. It was an assumption they could be about to pay a heavy price for. Four more of the fighters were taking intense fire now, but not enough to put them down. Eighty seconds. One fighter shuddered and blew apart. The other seven kept coming. Damn. It was going to be too tight.

  “Comms, issue the alert.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Marsh knew that across the station everyone would drop what they were doing and head for the nearest shelter point. With so little warning many wouldn’t make it in time. Should he have issued the warning sooner? Too late for second guessing now.

  “Lanson, we have seven fighters coming in fast. I believe they are on suicide runs. Warn your men.”

  “Yes, Sir. That explains the siren.”

  The only place the siren wasn’t sounding was around Marsh. Subtle lights were flashing but no more. There was no need. The Operations Room was the most secure shelter point in the station.

  Two more fighters vanished in fiery explosions. Five left, but only forty seconds. Damn. It was going to be close. Marsh found himself sitting forward on his seat. He wished there was something he could be doing, but it was all in the hands of Davies, now. Any attempt to interfere would only guarantee disaster.

  “Commander, more of the Willow’s passengers are leaving the ship. A lot more. My men can’t stop them. They’re heading for shelter.”

  “As long as they’ve been checked. If anyone who hasn’t been checked tries to leave you have my authorisation to use lethal force. I repeat, lethal force.”

  There was a slight pause before Lanson answered. “Understood, Commander. We won’t let you down.”

  Another fighter was overwhelmed by fire. A second erupted in a massive explosion without suffering a single hit as the stresses of being pushed so far beyond safety limits took their toll. Three left, but only twenty seconds. Marsh tried to work out where the three would strike but it was impossible. They were dodging around to avoid the station’s defensive fire, and at the speeds they were travelling they could still hit any part of the station easily.

  Another down! But the weapons were still trying to lock onto the final two. Fifteen seconds. One fighter started to blossom with weapon strikes, but the other was untouched. Marsh wished he had something else, anything else, he could throw at the incoming ships. Then he realised he did. Frantically he entered the override codes.

  Ten seconds. The fighter taking fire was resolutely refusing to die, and the other fighter was still evading all weaponry.

  Eight seconds. Marsh finished the command and executed it. The relentless pounding finally told on the first fighter. It lost power, slewing to the side and presenting an unmissable target. Within a second it was an expanding cloud of debris.

  Six seconds and the final fighter was still living a charmed life. A few lucky shots had weakened its shields slightly, but it was otherwise unharmed. Marsh found himself crossing his fingers and hoping. What he’d tried was a long shot, but the chances of the defensive weapons taking the ship out were tiny now. They had no other hope.

  Five seconds.

  Four seconds.

  Three seconds… the incoming fighter was replaced by a blinding flash of light, and then nothing. Three seconds later debris started to impact the station’s shields, which easily dealt with it. The intact fighter would have smashed straight through the shields, but the small chunks of debris were vaporised

  “I don’t understand,” Davies said. “I couldn’t get the weapons to lock onto the final fighter. What happened to it?”

  “I sent them a present,” Marsh said, feeling more than a little pleased with himself.

  “What?”

  “I sent them a present. Well, lots of presents. I overrode the controls on every cargo pod launcher we have. I’ve just wasted enough food to feed a few thousand people for a week, but I think it was worth it.”

  “Bloody hell, Commander. That was a brilliant idea! But the odds of hitting the fighter…”

  “I know. Sometimes near impossible odds are better than none.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  “I’ll join you, but later. We don’t know if more will be coming in. Get on to manufacturing. We need more weapons as soon as possible, ones designed to deal with fast-moving fighters. Keep scanning for any more fighters, too, or whatever dropped them off.”

  “Yes, Sir. Do we still need the alert?”

  “Good point. Comms, cancel the alarm.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Marsh sat back in his chair. Only then did he realise his back was dripping in sweat. He didn’t care. Against the odds, the station was intact. Now he could turn his attention back to the Willow.

  “Lanson, we’re clear. The fighters were all destroyed. How are things going?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lanson replied. “I’ve lost touch with several of my men. We seem to be having communication drop outs. I’m just approaching the bridge. We should be able to contact them again then using the ship’s own comms.”

  Marsh frowned. It was probably nothing, but he didn’t like it. He pulled up the video feed from Lanson again.

  The bridge door opened. Several guards entered with Lanson following them. The captain stood up, turning with a smile of welcome. Marsh relaxed a little. Then the bridge was plunged into darkness.

  The darkness was punctured by the flashes of weapon fire. The rolling thunder of automatic weapons sounded tinny though the link, but it must have been deafening on the bridge.

  Then the lights came back on. Lanson was pinned against a wall, two machine guns aimed at his head. From what Marsh could see the rest of the guards were dead.

  “Kill him,” Marsh heard someone say. Lanson tried to lurch forwards but he was far too late. The video feed went blank.

  Marsh frantically checked the other guards and switched to the video feed from one of those nearest to the bridge. They were already charging towards the sounds of the battle, but they were stopped dead in their tracks. The bridge had been sealed.

  “We’re receiving a transmission from the Willow,” the comms officer said, a tremor in his voice.

  “Put it through,” Marsh said.

  The video flared to life. Captain Blunt stood in the centre of the shot. He was flanked by two… well, people was the best that Marsh could manage. Each had every inch of visible skin covered in a black web pattern, almost like a tattoo.

  The captain didn’t need to say anything. Marsh realised what it must mean immediately. These were two of the Tainted. Which meant the captain was too, and almost certainly all those who were aboard the Willow.

  All those who had been aboard the Willow Marsh realised, bile rising in his throat. Many of them were now mixed in amongst his own people in shelters and
other areas of the station. His worst fear had come true. The Tainted were loose within Greenseed!

  Chapter 33

  “We should be able to jump soon,” Jess told the others.

  No one bothered to reply. Jess wasn’t surprised. It had been yet another uneventful encounter with an Imperial fleet. What was left to say?

  The only excitement came when they were in jump space. This was the fourth time the Wanderer had been forced back into real space since Jess had killed the troopers crawling outside the Wanderer’s hull. The remaining nine troopers continued moving in what seemed like random directions. Jess had no idea what they had in mind. Not that they’d had much time to move. The spaces between tar pits had shrunk right down again to no more than two or three minutes in each case.

  The Wanderer nudged a thought into Jess’s mind. They could jump. He didn’t react immediately. He let the Wanderer cruise on quietly for a minute or so before sighing.

  “Jumping now…”

  As soon as the Wanderer made it into jump space the troopers were moving again. They were cautious, now, laying their explosives with care so Jess couldn’t detonate them prematurely. Even so they were soon through a wall and speeding off down another corridor.

  “Any idea where they’re heading?” Dash asked.

  “None.” Jess threw the path the troopers had taken onto a screen. “They’re even doubling back at times, covering old ground. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Only because we don’t know what they’re trying to achieve.”

  “Maybe. They aren’t getting closer to any critical systems.”

  “You know that but perhaps they think differently. Remember, they don’t know the layout of the ship.”

  Jess wasn’t convinced but he let it go. They watched the troopers movements for another minute, then Jess felt the familiar effects of a tar pit.

  “That was fast,” he said. “Another tar pit.”

  “Will they ever end?” Ali asked.

  “Eventually,” Dash said. “Though I hadn’t expected even this many.”

  Jess concentrated on keeping the Wanderer in jump space. Even a few tenths of a second longer would save far more time in real space.

  He managed to beat his previous record by nearly two seconds. He grinned, feeling smug. Every bit of extra distance he managed to grab increased their lead over the Imperial fleet giving chase. The Wanderer finally slammed back into real space.

  Jess was already stretching out with the ship’s sensors, looking to see just how far ahead of the blockade fleet they had emerged.

  Weapons fire struck the Wanderer’s shields. Jess threw the ship into evasive manoeuvring even as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

  They’d emerged in the middle of a huge battle. Even with his mind accelerated as much as possible he couldn’t take in more than a small area surrounding the Wanderer. All around them ships were locked in combat. From mighty battleships to tiny fighters and every size in between, both military and civilian.

  The Wanderer had emerged between two groups, each containing several frigates. The two groups had identical markings but that didn’t stop them lashing out at each other with everything they had. Jess realised the Wanderer hadn’t been specifically targeted. She’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  A swarm of much smaller fighters and bombers were fighting amongst the two groups of ships. Several broke off to target the Wanderer, each launching a salvo of missiles.

  Jess had the Wanderer accelerate heavily to get away from the frigates. With the missiles stuck in a tail chase he was able to pick them off one at a time. Most of the fighters broke off, returning to their previous fight, but two closed in on the Wanderer. Jess unleashed the Wanderer’s powerful weaponry, easily blowing the two apart.

  It soon became obvious that anywhere would have been a bad place for the Wanderer to emerge. The battle was huge, and vicious. Hundreds of thousands of people were dying, maybe millions. Having steered the Wanderer to relative safety, at least for a minute or so, Jess slowed his thoughts enough to carry on a conversation.

  “My god!” Ali said. “Who are they fighting?”

  “Each other,” Dash replied grimly.

  “Is this what they are worried about?” Jess asked. “Is this the force they are waiting to face down?”

  “No. This will be the wave of people displaced by whatever the threat is. I’m surprised to see so many Imperial ships fighting to get through. Whatever they are running from must be incredibly dangerous.”

  “That’s comforting,” Jess muttered.

  “Can we get through?” Ali asked Jess.

  “I think so. If they all forgot about fighting each other and started on us we wouldn’t stand a chance. While they’re all busy fighting amongst themselves we should be able to make it through.”

  “Stay away from the bigger ships,” Dash said. “Quite apart from the weaponry, if one of them goes up it can take a large chunk of space around it along for the ride.”

  “I’ll do what I can. It’s not exactly orderly out there.”

  “I’m watching the troopers,” Ali said. “They’re staying put for the moment.”

  “I think I can guarantee to keep them there. Flying in a straight line is definitely out.”

  Jess started to thread a course through the destruction around them. It was impossible to tell who was on which side. There were civilian ships of every type as well as ships undoubtedly under the control of pirates.

  “Is everyone fighting everyone else?” Jess asked.

  Dash chuckled. “Looks like it, doesn’t it? Every big battle does, unless you’ve got access to the tactical displays from one side or the other. Remember that the blockading fleet will only consist of Imperial ships, judging by what we’ve seen so far. Most of the fighting is either Imperial against Imperial or Imperial against something else.”

  “Most?”

  “Yeah. There’s a fair bit of fighting between non-Imperial ships too. This isn’t a structured attack. It’s a flood of refugees trying to get to safety at any cost. Even if that means attacking those who should be their allies.”

  Jess just nodded, his attention taken up by a sudden barrage from a battlecruiser they had been passing. Most of the shots went wide. The few that struck were enough to weaken the shields and shake the ship.

  Jess kept the Wanderer evading. The battlecruiser fired off several more volleys, all of which missed, before turning its attention elsewhere. Before Jess could feel pleased with himself the Wanderer shook again. While avoiding the battlecruiser he’d got too close to several frigates which now pounded the Wanderer.

  Shields were down to nearly fifty percent. Jess searched for a way to avoid the frigates but found nothing which wouldn’t put them in even more danger. Gritting his teeth, he threw the Wanderer towards the frigates, still dodging the incoming fire.

  Then he was flying between them, at nearly point-blank range. As he’d hoped, the frigates safety controls were off. While a few shots clipped the Wanderer far more missed… and struck one of the other frigates instead. The fire was belatedly easing off as the Wanderer pulled clear. Now the frigates could safely have engaged the Wanderer, but instead they held their fire. By the time they opened fire again the Wanderer was well clear.

  “Nice flying,” Dash said. “You’re not shooting back?”

  Jess gestured at the displays.

  “Why bother?” he said. “Even if we manage to destroy a few ships it won’t make any significant difference here. Other than the smallest fighters we can outrun pretty much everything. Why divert power from the shields and thrusters?”

  “Makes sense. How much further do you think we have to go to be clear?”

  “I don’t have a clue. The battle is too intense to see what’s happening more than two or three minutes away. Did you ever see a battle like this?”

  “No,” Dash said quietly. “Never. I’ve seen some pretty big battles but never anything like
this. Normally civilians scatter in all directions when fighting breaks out. This time they’re trying to fly through the most dangerous of the fighting in a bid to get free.”

  “Well, the tar pit is still out there somewhere, so for the moment we’re doing the same.”

  * * *

  Jess checked the time. It was seven minutes since they’d emerged from jump space into the middle of all out war. Seven minutes. It felt more like seven days.

  The Wanderer had once again demonstrated amazing resilience and agility. Even so, it had taken a pounding. Its shields were hovering around forty-five percent, with a number of generators offline. Two thrusters were operating at reduced efficiency. Several shots had managed to pierce the shields and damage the hull, but none badly.

  Jess threaded the Wanderer through a small gap in the fighting. Two battleships were slugging it out to the left, with swarms of smaller ships surrounding them. Smaller, but no less violent, encounters were happening in almost every direction. This time the Wanderer either passed unnoticed or was ignored as a threat by both sides.

  Suddenly space seemed to open up. Patches of fighting remained but the way forward was far clearer than it had been.

  “Is that it?” he asked. “Have we made it?”

  “I think we might just have,” Dash said. “What’s ahead?”

  Any joy Jess had felt soon evaporated as he scanned space ahead of them.

  “Wreckage. Just wreckage. Everywhere.”

  Space was littered with the broken hulls of thousands of ships, and with the fragments of far more. As they pulled away from the fight Jess couldn’t speak. This was destruction on a scale he couldn’t comprehend.

  They flew on in silence for several minutes. Dash broke the silence.

  “No one is looting.”

  “What?” Jess asked.

  “No one is looting. None of the pirates are coming back here to grab anything valuable. Not one. That’s unheard of.”

  “So?”

  “So they want out of here. Now. That suggests the threat they ran from is not far behind.”