Then the forward vidscreen flared with brilliant light. Something had exploded directly ahead. Suspecting that I had just lost the race, with a curse I rolled out of the path of the explosion and saw one of the Imperium corvettes hurriedly swerve out of my way. But then a second and a third joined the fray, and a moment later we were twisting in a fighting circle, trying each to get a missile lock or a clear shot on the ship ahead. Or, in practice, on me.
In a well practised move, the corvettes suddenly widened their circle, and I realised the StarDestroyers had arrived and I was surrounded. The comms system crackled and came to life, with the image of an Imperium commander. I kept the Speedbird moving in a circle and waited for an opportunity to escape.
“Frank Eric Russell, This is Commander Stavros of the Imperium. Please halt your ship and prepare to receive my staff. You will be aware that there is a Pan Galactic arrest warrant for you, signed by Colonel Starker and validated by The Emperor himself. If you surrender now, you will not be harmed.”
Until after I had surrendered, of course. I had no doubt that Colonel Starker had some specific harm in mind for me.
“That’s Colonel Russell to you.”
“Mr Russell, you are no longer an officer in the renegade Free Union forces. Now, you may surrender to me immediately, or else I shall instruct my staff to take the appropriate action to secure your person – dead or alive. The choice in that part of the matter is, as I see it, entirely your own.”
“Give me a moment to choose.”
I put as much power as I dared into the defence screens. Then I checked the weapons systems. I had very few space mines left, and the space torpedoes were equally few in number. I should have restocked when I last had the chance, but then there’s always something to distract you from basic housekeeping, isn’t there?
“Mister Russell, stop wasting my time, and what is left of yours.”
Once I surrendered to the Imperium, Colonel Starker would have my guts for garters. Quite possibly literally, he was that sort of man. Instead, I twisted the Speedbird out of its circle and powered straight at the nearest corvette. The pilot reacted in shock at the unexpected attack, and successfully rammed into the corvette immediately ahead of him. The comms system came alive with invective, and I the moment of confusion I rolled left and fired a missile at a third corvette which seemed to cover the gap in their formation. The missile, at short range, stuck home and I sped through the gap in the formation, wincing as debris collided with the hull.
The Speedbird shook, almost throwing me out of the pilot’s seat despite the harness, as the defence screens struggled to absorb a blast from the StarDestroyer that had dived after me. I let it get a bit closer – after all it was so much faster than me that I didn’t really have a choice, then released the last of my space mines. That was it: nearly all my offensive armament gone. The mines exploded, but the StarDestroyer shook off the impact and kept coming.
I did not want to die. Not out here, but I decided that at least this way it would be fast – while Starker planned to keep me alive for rather a long time, I expected. And not in a good way, if you follow me. I pulled up the Speedbird’s nose and started looking for the StarCruiser. If I wasn’t getting out of this alive, then I’d take that po-faced Imperium officer with me. Dying quickly in a collision explosion was preferable to dying slowly for Starker’s amusement.
The Speedbird shook again, and I could hear crashing noises from the back of the ship. The defence screens had been overwhelmed. Damage reports flickered across the vidscreen, but I ignored them now. There was the StarCruiser ahead. There was the bridge, my target. I felt a momentary pang of sorrow for the trusty Speedbird that had kept me safe for so long. But at least we were going out in a blaze of glory. I reached out and patted the flight console.
“Together, girl,” I said aloud and was amazed to realise that I was crying. I didn’t think that I had it left in me. The StarCruiser bridge loomed in the forward vidscreen as I matched angles. The collision warning sounded, and without a conscious thought I reached out and turned on the comms system. I could see the panic on the bridge of the StarCruiser and laughed.
Then the StarCruiser vanished from the screen. What? What? Of course, Starker had discovered the lost secret of cloaking ships, it must have been fitted to these ships.
“Battle Group Haven disengage! Repeat, disengage and regroup!” ordered the suddenly invisible Imperium Commander over the open common comms channel.
Now what? The proximity alert screamed until it failed and resorted to uttering a harsh croak. In the port vidscreen appeared the biggest single ship I had ever seen, and the impact of its sudden appearance from hyperspace created gravitational ripples that threw every ship off course. Including mine, of course. There was no chance now of me successfully ramming the StarCruiser, I engaged the flight stabiliser and looked in awe at the monstrous vessel. Across the nose was an image that seemed a bit familiar – of course, it was the Nebula of Gala Tec. But instead of the words Gala Tec Inc stencilled across the nebula, it had the legend Gala-Free.
The comms channel crackled and received a transmission that all ships in the immediate area must have heard. The volume was so loud I winced and put my hands over my ears. This brought the sound level down to a full volume shout.
“Imperium ships, this is Battleship Sark of the Gala-Free Sector.”
Never heard of you, I thought. But I wasn’t complaining right now. I looked at the vidscreens: what remained of the Imperium battle group had withdrawn to surround the StarCruiser. There were three corvettes and one StarDestroyer. Four more StarDestroyers swung across my flight path, but all bore the same unfamiliar insignia of Gala-Free.
“Never heard of you,” replied the Imperium commander, obviously as well informed as I was. What he must be thinking, I had no idea. This battleship was enormous, and there was no chance of his remaining ships dealing with the firepower it had to command.
The four unfamiliar StarDestroyers took up a formation around my battered Speedbird. I did not necessarily feel safer.
“The star systems owned by Gala Tec Industries have formally seceded from the Imperium by unilateral declaration.”
“Can you do that?” asked the Imperium commander. It was a very good question, in the circumstances.
“The Declaration of Independence has been sent to your Emperor and his Council. The systems are now to be known as Gala-Free. You appear to have inadvertently crossed the border into our Sector and should now retire beyond the border before you cause a pan galactic political incident.”
That was the sort of thing that could ruin careers, and the commander knew it. If the Emperor accepted the Declaration, he would be a convenient scapegoat for any trouble. If the Emperor rejected the Declaration of Independence, of course, and he didn’t fight – then he would again be a convenient scapegoat. In his place, I would have defected. The Commander was a man with more loyalty, however, and he tried to salvage something of his mission. “You interrupted us in the process of apprehending a wanted criminal for trial, who was violently resisting arrest.”
Ouch. That didn’t sound good as a description of what was going on. Mind you, it was quite accurate.
“On the contrary,” replied the voice from the battleship. “We arrived in order to give tactical support to an officer under contract to the Gala-Free Space Corps. Colonel Russell.”
Me? Me! Portals was as good as his word, then.
“It seems we have arrived in time to prevent a regrettable occurrence, Commander. Now, please, depart in peace.”
“Yeah!” I exclaimed in agreement.
“He’s mine! I want him!” insisted the Imperium Commander.
“He’s one of ours. Want to try and take him?” replied the voice on the battleship.
The four StarDestroyers that had surrounded my ship moved protectively between the damaged Speedbird and the Imperium ships.
“You will hear more of this,” snarled the Imperium commander.
“But not to
day, I won’t,” came the imperturbable reply. I decided that I rather liked the owner of the voice. “Colonel Russell. Your ship appears to be damaged. Please engage with the emergency dock on the battleship, and we will recover your ship. Once on board, you may assume command of these forces.”
I liked the sound of this more and more. Two huge doors on the side of the battleship swung open, and flashing lights appeared. I tweaked the power lever a fraction, and the Speedbird groaned. A very nasty vibration started, and I quickly shut down the main drive. Could I smell smoke? I decided that I could not. I’ve always been a good liar – as long as I was speaking to myself.
“Er, Gala-Free battleship, I appear to have sustained a little too much damage for safe transit,” I said into the comms system. More damage assessment reports sprang up on the vidscreens and started scrolling too fast for me to read them properly.
“No problem, Colonel.”
The vast bulk of the battleship twitched in the vidscreens. Surely the huge thing couldn’t be coming for me? No, I realised, in fact the ship had a recovery tractor beam that had just seized the tiny Speedbird. Flashing orange lights filled all the screens, and I winced and shut my eyes until the glare went away. The outer doors slid shut, and the Speedbird was safe in the belly of the beast. The airlock cycled, and feet sounded on the staircase. Wearily I got to my feet and went to the door of the flight deck. Three flight crew in unfamiliar uniforms stood in the living quarters. All three saluted, the one on the left dropping a fresh flight suit to the floor and earning a stern look from the officer in command of the three. Behind them a group of mechanics pulled open the door to the engine bay. I had been right: I could smell smoke. Unfazed, they donned breathing sets and plunged into the smoke filled room, tools at the ready.
The office saluted me. “Welcome, Colonel,” she said. “We have a fresh uniform flight suit for you here. Then the crew of the Gala-Free battleship Sark are yours to command until we have returned to our Base. These are President Portals’ instructions.”
I returned the salute and no longer a mercenary, stepped forward into a new future. The same future as the last one of course, and that had not ended well. But at least I had evaded Colonel Starker once more.
Frank and his Speedbird will return again in Galactic Fugitive.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Will Macmillan Jones lives in Wales, a lovely green, verdant land with a rich cultural heritage. He does his best to support this heritage by drinking the local beer and shouting loud encouragement whenever International Rugby is on the TV. A fifty something lover of blues, rock and jazz he has just fulfilled a lifetime ambition by filling an entire wall of his home office with (full) bookcases. When not writing, he is usually lost with the help of a SatNav on top of a large hill in the middle of nowhere, looking for dragons. He hasn’t found one yet, but insists that it is only a matter of time.
He is known locally as a poet and oral storyteller, specializing in ghost stories and traditional tales, some of which can be found on YouTube, and are now available to buy on CD.
His major comic fantasy series, released by Red Kite Publishing, can be found at:
www.thebannedunderground.com
and information on his other work and stuff in general at :
www.willmacmillanjones.com
Interstellar Mercenary Page 14
