Shadow of Oblivion

by Richard Tongue

  “Freeze,” she barked, as a man froze at the threshold, pistol in hand, his leveled at hers. “Identify yourself.”

  “Commander William Corrigan,” he replied. “You?”

  “Lieutenant Christine Carter. What are you doing on my ship?”

  “Strange,” Corrigan said. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  “This is not your ship.”

  “I rather think it is. I’m also operating on a rather tight schedule, and it would be helpful if you can stand aside. The shuttle will take you down to Earth, and I’m sure someone from Security will give you at least a rudimentary briefing when you arrive.”

  “Do you have any sort of written authorization?”

  Cracking a smile, Corrigan said, “It’s not that sort of mission.”

  “Then I will not stand down. I don’t know how you managed to isolate the communications system, but by now someone on Gateway will have worked out that you’ve gone way, way off your flight plan, and there will be a Marine team heading over here to introduce you to new realms of hurt.”

  “I look forward to visiting them, Lieutenant, but not today.” He gestured to the rear, and said, “I know this is going to be the oldest trick in the book, but if you were to look behind you, you’d see two of my friends standing with pistols at the ready. I suppose you can still kill me, and if that’s really what you want to do, go right ahead and get it over with.”

  “Skipper?” a voice from inside the shuttle said. “We’ve got company coming. Estimated arrival time nine minutes. We really don’t want to be here when they arrive.”

  “My sentiments precisely,” Corrigan said, taking a step forward. He looked at the pistol in his hand, shrugged, and returned it to its holster. “You want to kill me, fine. You’ll die as well, but we’ve got to get a move on if we’re going to get out of here in time to get our mission moving.”

  “And just what is that mission?” Carter asked.

  “Winning the war,” a voice said from behind her. “Alexander Dixon, at your service. Executive Officer. And Security. I’m afraid I’m the one who shut down the systems, but I’m also the one who will be turning them back on again when we get to the bridge.”

  “Let’s just shoot her and get this over with,” another voice, harsher, harder, barked. “We’ve got things to do.”

  “Tell me what this is about,” Carter said. Before anyone replied, the lights flickered, and in that instant, she was distracted, she felt a harsh, searing pain in her back, enough to send her collapsing to the deck. Corrigan raced forward, snatching away her pistol with one hand whilst preventing her from hitting her head on the bulkhead with the other.

  “You didn’t have to do that, Novak,” he said.

  “We’re wasting time,” she replied. “Any moment now, some bright boy on Gateway will think about using the orbital defense network, and it’ll ruin our whole day.”

  “Put her in the shuttle,” Corrigan said to the final figure, a sad-eyed man walking through the airlock with a pair of holdalls, unceremoniously dumped to the deck as he picked up Carter, carefully carrying her from her ship. Shaking his head, Corrigan and the others made their way up the corridor.

  Carter waited, feigning weakness. She’d been hit with a sonic charge, a weapon that was usually only used for riot control. The effects tended to be variable. She’d got off lightly, but there was no need to let her captors know that.

  “I’m sorry about this,” the man said, placing her carefully on one of the couches before engaging the autopilot with the touch of a button. “Trust me. You don’t what to go where we’re going. We’re not coming back.” He looked at her for a second, shook his head, then walked out of the airlock. As soon as she realized he had left, she looked up at the autopilot, instantly deciding that there was no way she could interrupt the launch sequence without being immediately detected. There was no point calling for help, not with the Marines already on the way.

  Her job was simple. Hold this Corrigan and his band of pirates back for long enough to allow that help to get there. She knew the ship well enough to know the weak spots, but she was reasonably sure that she recognized the voice of at least one of the hijackers as the man who had designed the security systems, which at least explained how they’d been able to shut down her access so easily, so efficiently.

  She scrambled out of the shuttle, unarmed this time, and raced out onto the deck, sprinting down the corridor towards the access port. If she could just get to Engineering, if she could make it to the drive control relay in time, then she could lock out the systems and prevent Avenger from leaving, at least for long enough to allow the Marines to arrive.

  She climbed into a maintenance crawlspace once more, frantically sliding down the ladder fast enough to burn the palms of her hands, using her feet to slow her descent while still dropping as fast as she dared, her knees bending as she reached the bottom. Almost to her surprise, her identification code worked, and she sprinted into the vacant Engineering with a smile on her face, knowing that despite all the odds, she’d done what she needed to do.

  During the refit, she’d worked on every system in the room, and raced over to the warp control console, hastily taking the primary drive off-line. Without faster-than-light capability, Avenger was essentially trapped in cislunar space, would struggle even to outrun the shuttles that were already on the way. She called up a sensor display, smiling in satisfaction at the warships racing towards them, the orbital defense network coming online.

  And yet, for an instant, she paused. Corrigan had told her that this was a secret mission. A mission that might win the war. She’d automatically assumed that he was a Belter agent, but there was something familiar about him. He had to be at least a former officer in the Republic Fleet. He was too comfortable on the deck of a warp ship to be new to space.

  What if he had been telling the truth?

  The incoming starships suggested that he was lying, but on the other hand, his story would explain why nobody had been informed of his mission. Someone had arranged for the work crew to be off the ship during the hijacking, and that meant friends in high places. High enough that they would surely have been able to do far greater damage than the theft of an experimental starship.

  She shook her head. She had work to do. She couldn’t risk handing over Avenger simply because of a hunch, not when all of the evidence suggested that this was exactly what it appeared to be. The theft of a starship. Her hands danced across the controls, knocking subsystems off-line one after another, red lights flooding the status indicators as she undid all of the work the engineering team had completed over the last two weeks.

  “Stop!” a voice barked. “Get your hands away from the controls.”

  She ignored the calls, continuing with her work, knowing that she was only a couple of sequences away from totally immobilizing Avenger, bringing the heist to an abrupt end. She tapped another button, and heard footsteps racing towards her from the corridor.

  “Stop now, or I will shoot!” A second later, she felt a searing pain in her back, the same sonic stun but far worse than before, directly into her spine. She collapsed to the deck, looking up with a faint smile as she saw the final alert indicator wink to red.

  She’d done her job. As unconsciousness claimed her, at least she could take that satisfaction into the dark.

  Chapter 7

  Corrigan stepped onto the bridge, the lights coming on as he entered the room. His eyes moved from console to console as he quickly tried to get a feel for the ship, for what they had to work with. Novak eagerly made her way to the helm, the holographic interface adjusting as it scanned her biometric profile, the controls shifting around, tailored specifically to her preferences.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said.

  “Me either,” Corrigan replied. “Complete holographic interface. There isn’t anything in space anywhere near this advanced. I didn’t even know they’d worked out all the bugs.”

  “
I don’t think they have,” Dixon said. “At least, they hadn’t the last time I was on board, but some of this is new. I think there’s an old-fashioned manual set-up down in Auxiliary Control, but we might as well take her for a spin from up here.” He glanced across at the Flight Engineering station, cursed, then pulled out a communicator, saying, “Collins, where’s the warp drive?”

  “That woman managed to get out of the shuttle before it launched,” the technician replied. “I couldn’t get to her in time. From what I can see, she’s knocked out the dimensional compensators. I think I can bring them back up, but I could use a little help down here.”

  “None to give. I can’t spare anyone for the moment. Just do what you can, and make it fast,” Corrigan said. “Singh, take Sensors.” As Volkov walked onto the bridge, he added, “Vlad, see what you can do with the e-war systems. I’ll be damned if I’ll open fire on any of our own ships, but I don’t have any compunctions against throwing a few electronic spanners into the works.”

  “On it,” Volkov said.

  “How did she get out?” Novak asked, turning to the gunner. “I thought she was out cold.”

  “So did I,” Volkov replied, moving into his station. “She wasn’t responding to stimuli, and she didn’t show any signs of…”

  “She’s a good actress, evidently,” Corrigan pressed. “We’ll handle this later. Right now we’ve got a mess to deal with. Helm, take us out. Quarter-power until we clear the cradle, then maximum acceleration.”

  “Heading?” Novak asked.

  “Pilot’s discretion, but away from those assault shuttles, if possible.”

  “Aye, aye,” she replied, her hands sliding across the controls. Alvarez had provided some manuals, technical blueprints, but none of them even approached the real thing. Under normal circumstances, a crew would expect to have at least two weeks to get accustomed to a new duty posting. For an experimental ship like Avenger, two months would be more realistic.

  They didn’t have two minutes. That’s why he’d picked the best crew he could possibly find, because nothing other than the absolute best would suffice for the challenge they were facing. He looked up at the viewscreen, the cradle running ahead on all sides, and finally, the thrusters fired, and Avenger started to move, cautiously, tentatively at first, then more confidently, speeding in as it passed out into open space.

  “We are free and clear to navigate,” Novak said. “I’m heading for Luna, at maximum acceleration.” Glancing down to her side, she added, “Tough to get used to these controls. It’s as though they’re trying to anticipate what I need before I need it. That’s fine if the systems get it right.”

  “They will,” Dixon replied with a smile. “They had some of the best people in the Fleet working on training the control systems. It might take a little while for it to get used to your particular needs and requirements, but as soon as it does, it’ll ruin you for flying anything else.”

  “I have three, correction, four incoming contacts,” Singh reported, looking at the sensor display. “Two shuttles now, both assault type, scanners indicating that they’re fully loaded. That’s a whole platoon’s worth. Two other ships as well, the scoutship Pericles and the cruiser Indomitable.”

  “Indomitable has weapons hot, Commander,” Volkov added. “The orbital defense network is tracking us, but they haven’t brought the combat systems online yet. I’d strongly suggest we don’t give them the opportunity to press home that particular attack.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Corrigan said. “Novak, make that your highest priority.” He paused, then asked, “Why Luna, anyway?”

  “We’re heading from one defense network to another,” she replied. “I’m hoping they get a little overconfident. Besides, it’s the last thing they’d be expecting. If I was flying one of those pursuit ships, I’d expect my target to be running for free space, not back into the fire.” She paused, smiled, then added, “Assuming we don’t decide to go somewhere else, we’ll be in Lunar orbit in three hours, nine minutes.”

  “We’re being hailed,” Singh said. “Gateway Station Operations. They’ve gone all the way to the top of the tree. Commodore Maddox.”

  “Tell her we’re out,” Dixon replied.

  “No,” Corrigan said. “Let’s hear what she has to say. Patch her in.” He paused, then said, “This is Avenger Actual. Say your piece.”

  “Corrigan? Is that you?”

  “Guilty as charged,” he replied. “Back off, Commodore, or I’ll be forced to open fire on those ships. You can’t catch me in time.”

  “You’re not going to open fire on Republic ships, Bill, and we both know it. I don’t know how the hell you managed to break out of a maximum-security prison, but whatever it is you are planning, it isn’t going to work. Our telemetry track confirms that your warp drive is offline, and unless you’ve worked out some sort of a miracle, that means you can’t get out of the system. Turn back. Now.”

  “Commodore, just what do you think could entice me to do that?”

  “The ship you’ve stolen is important, Bill. Damned important. Enough that I’d be willing to come to a deal. Cut your engines now, coast to a stop and allow the Marines to board you, and we’ll return you to prison with no questions asked, and no additional charges. We can write this off as some sort of half-baked training exercise. I know Admiral Alvarez will agree.”

  “Why don’t you call her yourself and ask,” Corrigan replied. “Unless she gives approval, I won’t do it. Now have your men back off. You know what I could do to those shuttles before they dock. Don’t make me. Out.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Volkov said, pale-faced.

  “Of course I wouldn’t, and she knows that just as well as I do. What we did there was theater as much as anything else. Nothing more than that.” He looked at the controls on his armrest, throwing on the communicator, and said, “Bridge to Engineering. Do you read?”

  “I hear you,” Collins replied. “I’ve got four sub-systems back up, but it’s going to take time to get the rest ready. Some of them need five, ten minutes to charge for a maximum-distance jump. The big problem is the dimensional guidance computer. She turned it off, and it takes half an hour to calibrate on activation.”

  “Can we go to warp without it?” Corrigan asked.

  “Are you out of your god-damned mind?” Collins replied.

  “Answer the question,” Corrigan pressed. “We’re running out of options here. The plan to spend time getting everything ready before launch failed before we even docked, thanks to our friend down there.”

  There was a brief pause, and she said, “We could end up anywhere, and worst of all, there’d be a bias towards gravitational forces. The odds are that we’d end up in a star.”

  “Maybe,” Novak said. “Maybe there’s another option. What if we executed a low-power jump, an intra-system jump?”

  “I’m listening,” Corrigan said. “What have you got in mind?”

  “Even a blind jump isn’t completely non-directional. We can bias it by simply pointing in the right direction, and we can save ourselves by lining up to put a smaller gravitational source in front of a larger one.” Her hands swept across her console, and she said, “Triton’s blocking Neptune right now. If we point in that direction, if we get the power levels just right for the distance we want to travel, then we might be able to implement a course without the dimensional guidance computers.”

  “Novak,” Corrigan replied, “You’re too damned smart to die so young. We’re going to try it. Collins, did you hear what she said?”

  “I heard it,” the engineer replied. “I don’t know if I believed it.”

  “How long before you can set it up?”

  “Seven minutes. I need seven minutes.”

  “No chance…”

  “When I say I need seven minutes,” Collins barked, “that doesn’t include time for me to stop and have a nap. Seven minutes, sir.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. Bridge out.” Turning to
Singh, Corrigan asked, “What are our friends out there doing?”

  “All of them are still pressing their advance,” he replied. “They’ll be on us about when we’re going to warp. I think the Marines might be here a little sooner. They’re burning their engines red-hot to catch us.”

  “Which docking port are they going for?” Corrigan asked.

  Shaking his head, Singh replied, “Those shuttles have been identified as Mark Seven Raptors, skipper. They don’t need a docking port. They lock onto the hull and burn their way through, forming a permanent seal. It takes a full engineering crew to get them off again, but they’re impossible to dodge and impossible to lock out.”

  “No retreat, though,” Dixon said. “Seems a little…”

  “We’re talking about Marine assault shuttles, Dix,” Corrigan said. “I don’t think the word ‘retreat’ is part of their lexicon. How do we stop them?”

  “Without opening fire on them?” Novak asked. “We don’t.”

  “Not acceptable,” Corrigan pressed. “I will not open fire on our own ships. That’s not what I signed up for, and I do not want any arguments on this.” He looked at the viewscreen, the trajectory plot locked on, and smiled. “There’s a transit shuttle down at Airlock Three, isn’t there?”

  “Sure,” Dixon replied. “We’re not abandoning ship, are we?”

  “How good are the sensors on those shuttles?” Corrigan said. “Could we fake life readings?”

  Dixon smiled, then said, “I see what you are getting at.”

  “I don’t,” Singh replied.

  “Tough. You’re coming to help. Skipper?”

  “Get moving,” Corrigan said with a smile. “Just make it quick.”

  As the two men raced from the bridge, Novak asked, “What…”

  “Set up to make it look as though the ship is flying on automatic. No flair, no evasive course, nothing. Just slow and steady. Dixon and Singh are going to load the transit shuttle with six spacesuits and make it look as though we’re running for the moon. With a little luck, the assault team will be more interested in catching us than they will be the ship, and it might make them take a little additional care while they board us.”