by Jan Domagala
“Who the hell are you and how do you know we’ve gone off course?” persisted the captain adamantly.
“I suggest you focus all your attention on getting us out of here and this ship safely back on course, rather than who I am,” Kurt said.
The captain faltered slightly then turned to the other officers who had turned to watch the exchange, and said, “One sweep by so the Prince can see it, then return us to our previous course.”
“You’ve brought us here so the Prince can see it?” asked Kurt, his voice rising in disbelief.
“Prince Aswan is one of the wealthiest men in the galaxy,” the captain said as if that was explanation enough.
“I just hope he offered you enough to compensate because if we get out of this alive, you and your crew will spend the rest of your lives in a penal colony for breaking an interstellar treaty. You do know the Tartaran Battlefield is a Forbidden Zone, don’t you? Everyone who has a captain’s licence knows that,” Kurt said hardly believing what was happening.
The captain spun around to say something, but before he could utter a word, ops said, “Sir, several small craft have departed from the debris field and are heading our way.”
“What?” the captain said rushing over to ops. “Are you sure, this area is supposed to be deserted?”
“They’re Outlaws,” Kurt said.
“Excuse me?” the captain asked as he studied the sensor readings.
“Criminals from both sides have formed a community here and with the levels of residual radiation from the battle, they must have adapted somehow. There’s no telling what we’ll be facing,” Kurt said calmly, his old training kicking in.
“How do you know so much about this area?” ops asked.
“I used to be Recon Delta, so trust me, we’re in big trouble,” Kurt said, allowing them to know that one fact about him so they would believe him, and take what he said seriously.
Ops looked at the captain and Kurt could tell they were leaning more towards trusting him and he saw fear blossom in their eyes.
“What do we do?” asked the captain. It was obvious to Kurt that this man was a civilian captain who had no previous military training.
“First we need to get out of here and fast. Secondly, order your security to be prepared to repel boarders.”
“Security?” the captain replied.
“Boarders?” the helm officer replied.
“You have security staff, to help handle unruly passengers and the like, such as terrorists? It’s a requirement for all civilian craft to have them,” Kurt said and by their reaction, he surmised that this might not be the only thing that the Colonial Line had saved on.
“Boarders, you said boarders,” helm reiterated.
“Yes, they’ll try to come on board to take control of the ship, for either salvage or to refit her with weapons. You never heard of pirates? They may even want to hold you for ransom or they could just plain murder you, rape any women before finally eating the lot of you. There’s no way of telling, no one’s been stupid enough to get this close before.”
The captain urgently turned to the helm and said, “Prepare to make the jump to our previous location.”
“Aye, sir,” replied helm, his voice quaking with fear.
A violent explosion rocked the huge starship as the incoming attack craft opened fire. The engines were targeted; clearly the Outlaws had more military training than this crew did.
Those on the bridge felt the explosion as the missile struck the rear section, sending a shudder throughout the entire vessel. The bridge crew and Kurt were sent stumbling to the floor.
Kurt grabbed the captain and hauled him to his feet. “Does this ship have shields or any weapons?” he asked already knowing the answer.
“Just basic shields to protect against space debris, nothing that’ll come close to stopping weapons fire. This is a cruise liner, what would we need weapons for?” the captain asked.
“Oh I don’t know, pirates or terrorists maybe,” Kurt said sardonically.
“We’re ordered to stay on course on the pre-arranged flight paths already approved by the local authorities whose jurisdiction we cross into.”
“Unless of course, you have a mega rich passenger on board, who bribes you to do otherwise, obviously?”
The captain was about to argue but realised how absurd he would sound then simply asked, “What can we do?”
“Make the jump before they reach us,” Kurt suggested and just as he had finished another missile struck the rear section followed by one more.
The background hum that was evident on all starships suddenly faded, telling them something was wrong in a big way.
Ops said, “Sir, the main drive just went off line. We can’t make the jump.”
“What do we do now?” the captain asked trying to remain calm, yet he found it hard with the knowledge that his bad judgement and greed had placed them in real danger, eating away at him.
Kurt closed his eyes and concentrated. One of his enhancements, which he was still trying to understand, was an increase in brain activity centred on the use of his Neural Interface. The NI allowed him to interface with many and various pieces of tec such as com channels, computers etc, but he had learned and was still learning, to use his NI in ways that it was never designed for, almost as if it had been upgraded along with him.
First, he composed a message, inputting all relevant data about their position and status including the passenger list. Then he compressed it all down into a data burst, which he sent through a sub space, battle com. channel directly to General Sinclair the head of Col Sec Intelligence Division, his old boss.
Kurt opened his eyes to see three frightened faces staring at him, hoping for some guidance out of their predicament.
“We stay alive,” he said.
4
Prince Aswan was standing on the Observation Lounge before the panoramic viewport overlooking the Tartaran Battlefield, one of the largest debris fields in the entire galaxy. Situated close to what is now the border between Colonial Confederation and Elysium Alliance space, the debris field was what remained of the hundreds of starships that took part in the battle for the planet in that system. Contested for by the two galactic superpowers, the planet was destroyed by the war. Destroyed, not in a literal sense but in an ecological sense. It was made uninhabitable by the radiation and so after the loss of thousands of lives with nothing to show for it other than a ravaged planet, an end to hostilities was called and the area was abandoned and designated a Forbidden Zone as a testament to the futility of war.
Standing proudly in front of the viewport, his legs wide, with his hands on his hips, Aswan turned to look at the woman next to him.
“Magnificent, isn’t it,” he said, his eyes wide with awe at the destruction before them and fuelled by the knowledge that no one but him had seen it for decades.
“With respect, sir, we should not be here,” Natasha Garvey said. She was as tall as he was, although his lean hard physique had been earned by exercise set him by personal trainers; hers was earned through military training from years in Col Sec Diplomatic Corp Security. She had an athletic build, lean and hard yet her feminine curves remained. Dark brown eyes shone from an attractive face that had high cheekbones. Her normally full lips were firmly pressed together, a sign that she was not happy about their situation.
He dismissed her caution with a wave of his hand then returned his gaze to the viewport. His hair was long, jet-black and pulled tightly back from a high forehead into a ponytail allowing it to fall down his broad back. Surgically altered, his face was not the one he was born with. No expense had been spared to make him appear handsome. His eyes had been altered from brown to azure blue, his nose had been straightened, cheekbone implants had been added and his jaw line strengthened. Now he looked more like the movie star Prince he always thought he should resemble.
“What are those?” he asked when he saw several starships in the debris field.
“Tho
se are trouble, sir,” Natasha replied.
Turning away from the viewscreen Aswan faced Natasha with a worried frown and asked, “Trouble, what do you mean?”
“They’re attack craft, old but still deadly, and they shouldn’t be here,” Natasha replied with a feeling of dread building inside her.
“I don’t understand!” Aswan stated.
“I’m not too sure I do either, sir. One thing’s for certain though, they don’t look friendly.”
Just as she’d finished speaking the first missile struck sending a huge shiver through the massive ship.
“They’re attacking us?” he asked in disbelief as fear bloomed in his eyes.
“I’m afraid so, sir,” Natasha replied calmly before she accessed a com. channel via her NI and said, “Tate, get the Princes’ entourage assembled and ready to evacuate, just in case this situation turns bad.”
“What do you mean turns bad? We’re under attack, isn’t that bad enough for you?” screamed the Prince as panic lent a dangerous edge to his voice.
Two other missiles struck the rear section of the cruise liner and Natasha sensed that things had just got a whole lot worse.
“Captain, what’s our status?” she asked after contacting the bridge.
“We’re dead in space Miss Garvey, our main drive has been damaged,” came the rather rushed response.
“Can we move away from the area at all?” she asked as she watched the attack craft get nearer through the panoramic viewport.
“We can but I doubt we can outrun those attack craft.”
“Then I suggest you get to the lifeboats and evacuate. Try to hide out on one of the moons of the outer planets of this system until help arrives. You’ve sent out a Mayday I take it?”
“You’re the second person to suggest that but we’re not even supposed to be here, we’ll get into trouble if we contact anyone.”
“Captain, we’re already in as much trouble as you’d ever want. Make the call,” Natasha said ending the call. As she looked at Aswan he said, “Are you mad, evacuate the ship? We’re light years from civilisation where do you suggest we go? Oh, that’s right hide out on one of the moons. Now I know you’re mad. My father was mad also. Mad to allow a woman to lead my security. This is hopeless; we’re all going to die. I’ll make sure my father get’s you fired from this job.”
“Well good luck with that especially if we’re all going to die,” she replied sarcastically. As he was about to add something she cut him dead with, “And let’s not forget who got us into this situation shall we, sir.”
Anger flushed his face, never in his life had anyone spoken to him like that before. If he had been at home he would have had her publically flogged for such an affront. How dare she accuse him of this, he was just about to rebuke her accusation when she pulled out her Sig P996.
“What are you going to do?” he asked as he watched her pull back on the slide to prime the weapon. For a second he thought she might be considering using it on him for his, what he was beginning to consider, may have been a hasty decision to persuade the captain to alter the ship’s course to this location.
“My job, sir. Now let’s move, we don’t have much time before those attack craft arrive,” she replied heading for the exit of the Observation Lounge.
“Why, what will happen then?” he asked naively.
“They’ll board us, take control of the ship and either take whoever is left here as prisoners or just kill them; it depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“If they only want the ship then the crew and passengers have no value so they’ll just kill them, but if they have a value, potential hostages or for ransom then they’ll take them prisoners.”
“What do you think?”
“We’re not supposed to be here, they know that, they also know that the chance of rescue is remote so my thought is they’ll kill anyone they find and just take the ship.”
“But you said we should hide out until help arrives.”
“I also said remote because it is. This is a Forbidden Zone governed by a treaty between the Confederation and the Alliance, to send help would further violate that treaty. You put us all at risk by bringing us here. If we survive this then we all face charges of treaty violation. Either way we’re screwed, sir. I also think because of who you are will work in our favour. I don’t think they can afford not to send help whatever the cost to the treaty and until that help arrives, in whatever form, I will do my job, sir. Now let’s move.”
Feeling slightly better about their situation, Prince Aswan followed Natasha towards the exit.
5
Before leaving the bridge, Kurt had told the captain to order the evacuation of the ship. Get everyone to the lifeboats and head towards the planets on the edge of the system and try to find somewhere to hide, was his suggestion.
His conscience would not allow him to just abandon everyone and leave them to their own devices however strong the temptation. The fact of the matter was they were all in danger due to one man’s selfishness and another’s greed. There were other innocent lives on board who didn’t deserve what was about to happen to them. It was these people he was going to help or at least as many of them as he possibly could.
As he headed away from the bridge, he saw a security officer herding a group of passengers down the corridor towards an elevator.
“How many passengers are left and have they all been contacted?” he asked, as they got closer to him.
“I don’t know exactly how many, sir, but everyone has been contacted personally via the ship’s computer. Prince Aswan and his party were up front in the Observation Lounge. His security detachment will see to their evacuation. We’re under orders to leave his security details to them,” replied the officer, the fear evident on his face.
“I’ll go check on them, I want to have a chat with him anyway,” Kurt said angrily.
“Good luck, sir,” said the security officer who then rushed off with his group.
“And you,” Kurt replied. Quickly he accessed the passenger manifest on the computer to see how many were on board. Out of a possible two hundred and fifty passengers there was only one hundred including himself. The Queen had a crew compliment of almost three hundred. Because the flight had been a special charter and the passenger list had been reduced, over half the ancillary staff, such as waiters and stewards, had been granted extended shore leave. This extra expense was added to the Prince’s bill. That still meant there were over one hundred and twenty crew members on board and including the passengers this meant almost two hundred and thirty lives were in mortal peril. The security on board was woefully thin on the ground for the size of the craft and Kurt doubted they would be of any help at all regarding either the evacuation or the protection of the Queen.
Therefore, it seemed the protection of the passengers would be down to him alone. The security detail guarding the Prince would concentrate their efforts around him, so he knew he could not rely on their help.
Now there was not a great deal he could do to safeguard the passengers except hope they managed to get to the lifeboats in time. Once he had exited the Queen himself, he would attempt to coordinate some sort of escape and evade plan for them all, but first he wanted to see if he could enlist the aid of the Diplomatic Corp Security unit guarding the Prince. Not holding out much hope but he had to try anyway, and it might give him the opportunity to give the damn fool a piece of his mind.
Suddenly an automated alarm rang throughout the ship as an androgynous voice warned them of an intruder.
The attack craft had gained access somehow to the docking bays. How they had overridden the docking codes Kurt was unsure? They had possibly used a universal override code but one thing he did know was that the Outlaws would soon be teeming through the huge ship.
Their time had just run out.
6
Leaving the Observation Lounge behind them, Natasha and the prince made their way down the corridor towards where she had arra
nged to meet with Will Tate. He was her second in command, and she hoped the other four members of her team had rounded up all the members of the prince’s entourage.
There were more than enough lifeboats for them, considering there was but a fraction of the maximum load on board, so there were no worries about that. What did worry her though was the ‘Intruder Alert’ alarm that raged throughout the craft and she started to think they might not reach the lifeboats in time.
The lifeboats were arranged laterally around the centre decks of the ship for easy access from all decks. Each lifeboat was capable of carrying fifty passengers with sufficient supplies to last until it reached a safe haven or the occupants rescued. Of course a safe haven would mean somewhere along the flight paths that cruise ships and freighters usually adhered to. This time they were far from the beaten track so they would have to make those supplies last as long as possible.
“Tate, get your people to the nearest lifeboat. Don’t wait for me I’ll look after the prince. We can rendezvous somewhere once we’re off this ship,” Natasha said through a com. channel. There was no time for them to meet so she had to go it alone with the prince.
“Will do, hurry Nat, this doesn’t look good. Keep your head down and I’ll see you soon,” Tate replied.
Tate was a good man and she felt confident those people were in safe hands. Now it was up to her to do the same for the prince.
“Hurry up, sir, we have to get down three more decks to reach the lifeboats,” she said, hoping to urge him on. Glancing at him, she noticed his eyes were wide with fear. His breathing was rapid and his face flushed and she realised he would need little urging.
As the two of them rounded a corner, they heard a scream so terrible it brought them both up short. Standing before them was a man dressed in battle gear, old and abused, a mishmash of styles obviously taken from the dead soldiers who fought and died so long ago in this area. On his head was a battle helmet. The visor was down but it had a gaping hole through which they could see his wild, staring eyes, alive with a savage blood lust.
