Tethered Worlds: Star in Bankruptcy

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Tethered Worlds: Star in Bankruptcy Page 40

by Gregory Faccone


  “He made it,” Vittora said.

  Kord smiled. Some hope had already yielded fruit.

  “It was no easy orbit for the P-stars either,” Kord said. “The First Cruiser is damaged.”

  But Arceneaux was right. Any of Alpha Squadron's three remaining Thunars were one hit away from dropping out. It would dip them below effective squadron strength.

  “If they slowed for a stand up engagement,” Arceneaux said, “we'd never have gotten that close and been able to avoid that cursed death ray.”

  “P-star squadron reducing speed,” the tac officer said.

  “Maybe they heard me.” Arceneaux examined the tac VAD before looking to Kord. “We'll be coming around the front.”

  Kord's mind was flying through years of tactical study, grasping for insight. The Trade Union was smashing AvSec ship by ship, but not pushing in to occupy Jetty space. It wasn't like the Jetty was resisting them either. It had remained silent since its token salvo.

  “Partial control must have been wrested from AvSec,” Vittora offered, reading him.

  Kord highlighted the Jetty battle area.

  “I can understand the Trade Union's hesitancy,” Arceneaux said. “Restoring that carrier and cruiser must have cost a year's revenue from an entire system, not to mention the handful of other mystic ships.”

  “The Artemis cannon is powering up,” the data rider said.

  The three of them shared the same reaction. They checked the range.

  “What's the target?” Arceneaux demanded.

  “We're far enough to dodge, barely,” Kord said. “And the Jetty is a non-factor.”

  “Not our wounded destroyer,” Vittora said.

  “No, Janus thinks bigger.” Kord clasped his hands. “I suggest we increase spacing just to be safe, captain.”

  “Artemis fully powered,” the data rider said.

  They waited as tension filled seconds went by.

  “Why isn't he firing?” Arceneaux asked.

  “He can't sit on that power for long.” Kord said. “The strain on systems...”

  “Look,” Vittora said. The stiletto nose of the First Cruiser was glowing extra bright. Geysers of super-heated plasma began to vent into space along the Artemis barrel. “Pressure releases.”

  The P-stars continued subtle maneuvers. A dreadful realization came to Kord as he saw the Trade Union finish a third starfighter run in rapid succession on the cowering AvSec ships.

  “No,” he murmured.

  “Firing imminent,” the data rider said. “We're the target!”

  “Evasive,” Arceneaux ordered.

  “AI already on it,” the tac officer responded.

  The Verdant maneuvered hard considering its damaged state. It groaned in reluctance. The viewport flashed before a pinkish white beam filled it. Kord felt in his head the tremendous energy release, the bending of space.

  “We're hit!” someone yelled.

  The Verdant lurched under his feet like a Thunar never should, propelling him from the flag station.

  ▪ ▫ ▪

  Zoraida slapped Jordahk's face. “I won't be restrained by you or anyone!”

  Apparently slapping faces was her thing. He didn't flinch away, continuing eye contact. The reaction caught her up short. He couldn't blame her regarding being held down.

  The Aurora was almost adrift. She had systems powered down all over the place. And Jordahk's arm was trembling and, thankfully after the intense pain, numb. He wasn't sure he could even lift it.

  “It'd be good if you came down here and gave me a hand, sonny,” Jhapa said. “Unless you enjoy being a sitting duck in a war zone.”

  He continued staring at Zoraida. “There's a job to be done out here, and you're not making it any easier.”

  “Whose job are you doing? You're supposed to be under the authority of the Confidence Fleet. That means my authority.”

  “I tried to bring you back.”

  “What, are you from some archaic imprimatur family?” Her suspicion was palpable. “Is that how you obtained the old-style compy?”

  Maintenance drones entered the bridge from their service warrens.

  “I'm taking this opportunity to shut down bridge systems for repair,” Aurora said.

  The illumination flicked down to emergency levels.

  Jordahk shook his head, put off by Zoraida's single mindedness. “Sorry for the rough ride, Aurora. Get us online as soon as you can.”

  He slid his sling bag over and tried to rub life into his arm as he exited the bridge. Zoraida joined him on the plat before the bridge hatch could close.

  “And this ship. 'Moon Weaver,'” she mocked. “Why the subterfuge? Aurora. Aurora?” Her eyes opened wide. “Hesperus Aurora? That's how you did the impossible.” Her eyes widened and she stepped back from him. “Who are you really?”

  “Aurora's monitoring the battle,” Max said in a well timed interruption. “Your father can't stop the First Cruiser. We better hurry.”

  Jordahk jumped from the plat before it reached the bottom and dashed through the short officer's corridor to the lifts. Again, before the lift doors closed, she was with him. Although no athlete, she was swift and determined. He wasn't going to lose her in the corvette's passages.

  “Caedam,” she said.

  The term sent a chill down Jordahk's spine. “What?”

  “The misguided vigilante attacking the Consortium. He also fights alone, probably using a mystic compy. Surely you're curious as to the identity of this brazen individual who challenges an entire organization.”

  He was stuck in quarters too close for this. It was more than awkward, he felt endangered. Technically he wasn't under her authority. The Aurora was never an official part of the Confidence Fleet. Her provocation was wearing on him.

  “Are the Consortium's troubles of great interest on Frulieste these days?”

  She only narrowed her eyes in response. Jordahk burst from the lift into the heart of the ship. Finally he paused, looking around.

  “Over here,” Solia called.

  She led him into a new chamber. He hadn't yet explored every secret the corvette held. He looked on in wonder yet again.

  “This is new.”

  “I know, right?” Solia said.

  At the center of the chamber was a reactor. At least he was pretty sure it was a reactor. It looked incomparable. Two rings he supposed should be moving were motionless around its spherical construction. Beside it the strange cross-keel traveled the width of the ship.

  Solia looked over his shoulder at Zoraida. “Jhapa did amazing things,” she whispered in quick, conspiratorial tones, “with both starkeels. Symbols were flying about.”

  “Three, girlie,” Jhapa appeared, startling them both. Apparently he had supernatural hearing. “Three starkeels. The primary is a keel within a keel.” He said it as if it made sense to them. “And you,” he said to Jordahk. “You burned through all the teslanium with your erratic, non-flowing, sheering cascades.” That made even less sense.

  “What are you talking about?” Jordahk asked. “We have plenty of teslanium cores in storage.”

  “Not cylinders, spheres.”

  Jordahk's lack of understanding must have manifested in a blank expression. “You mean marbles? Like for wendells?”

  “For the reactordyne.” He pointed to the ringed construct. “You really don't know anything, do you?”

  Jordahk, feeling trickling back into his arm, lifted both palms. “I've never even been in this chamber.”

  Zoraida joined them, but Jhapa continued, undeterred.

  “Yet you hurl yourself blindly into these ridiculous, dangerous situations.”

  Jordahk half-shrugged. “Well, in this case it was more dangerous for them.”

  Solia couldn't stifle a chuckle. Stress could do that.

  “Hmph.” Jhapa made an expression used by mature people for ages. “Long adolescents...”

  “Hey,” Jordahk said with a touch of indigence, “I'm about to
hit Investiture.”

  “Me too,” Solia chimed in.

  “Come on.” Jhapa motioned down the cross-keel passage. “The key shaping impeller at the end is broken.”

  Jordahk hesitated, glancing at both girls. Zoraida's skin in the chamber's light looked like bronze illuminated by a sun low in the sky. He once approached Windermere wondering whether the sun was rising or setting. In this case he clearly thought it setting, and the darkness taking over.

  Somehow Jhapa understood his reluctance to leave Solia behind. “Fine, you can take your girlfriend with you.”

  “She's not my—”

  But Jhapa had already turned, bounding down the shaft.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  He felt pain. But in this case that was good. It meant he was alive. Then he felt the unmistakable touch of his partner.

  “Sometimes the highest spot on the bridge is not the safest,” she said.

  Kord opened his eyes to Vittora's lovely face, and rubbed the back of his head. “Tell me about it.” The Verdant's bridge was coming back to life. Crew returned to whatever stations still functioned. Arceneaux sat in the captain's chair rubbing his leg. “Didn't anyone else go flying?”

  “None farther than you,” Arceneaux said, his tone wry. “Welcome back.”

  Kord tried to shake the fog from his head. “It missed?”

  “I don't think so,” Vittora said.

  “Systems back online,” the data rider said.

  “We'll find out now. Go back to the shot, squadron view” Arceneaux ordered.

  The viewport lit with the crescents of Granamar and Aventicia. Two squadrons hung in space, suddenly illuminated by a great flash. The mighty frigate-sized Artemis beam lashed through Alpha Squadron, passing close enough to the Verdant to disrupt power systems. The beam continued on beyond effective “hitting” range toward the Jetty.

  The distance was such that even the largest ship could dodge. But a beam strike was so low a probability that AvSec wasn't even looking. It lashed into their crowded formation, made more dense by successive starfighter runs. Their AIs made an effort to dodge, while also trying to avoid collisions. The galleon's robust shields, nothing against such power, were penetrated just fore of the thrusters. A swath of enormous ship disappeared into the beam. The galleon lasted only another second before being consumed in a blazing caldron of plasma.

  Behind it a frigate also disappeared, adding to the expanding conflagration. Two other grazed ships careened with power disruptions similar to the Verdant's. It demonstrated the cannon's space-bending concentration of energy.

  The Verdant's bridge filled with aghast expressions.

  “Diabolical,” Arceneaux said. “Current view.”

  Systems were back online, updating the tac VAD and viewports with bad news.

  The will of the AvSec was broken. Starfighters strafed the ships whose power was disrupted.

  “They're in complete disarray,” the tac officer said unnecessarily. “Probably a full retreat.”

  “A rout,” Kord said.

  Arceneaux was fielding a comm from the engineer.

  “Everything on the port outrigger is out,” the man said. He wiped his forehead. “Weapons, thrust rings, everything. I'm still pulling people out of there.”

  “Helm is sluggish,” the tac officer said. “The P-stars are picking up speed again. Resuming previous course to the Jetty.”

  “A little early for the victor to be claiming his spoils,” Kord said.

  “Is it?” Arceneaux asked rhetorically.

  Vittora shook her head. “Galleons are mighty, but not mightier than an Artemis.”

  Kord looked up from the tac VAD. “And the last one in space is gone.”

  ▪ ▫ ▪

  Jordahk, with Solia on his heels, caught up to the rather nimble old man as they ran down the cross-keel shaft.

  “She's scanning all of this, you know,” Jhapa said.

  Jordahk sighed. “I didn't know what else to do.”

  He was surprised to find himself opening up to this cranky stranger.

  “She's going to be a problem,” Jhapa said with a certainty that made Jordahk uneasy.

  The man stopped short, looking afar off. At the same time Jordahk also sensed... something. A great energy. And he also felt something more personal. Aristahl came to mind. He was in a tough spot.

  Jhapa saw and grunted. “You'll get better at interpreting such things. Needless to say we gotta move if you want to make a difference for your family.”

  Did he mean Aristahl? His parents? Jordahk felt like telling the old man that he didn't need any more mystery.

  “The First Cruiser just blasted the last galleon,” Max said. “AvSec is falling apart.”

  They passed impellers along the cross-keel aimed toward the front of the ship at increasing angles. A cluster fanned out at the keel's end. Maintenance drones were already taking one apart, disappearing with broken pieces. Jhapa jumped into the middle of it with surprising ease.

  “This one, and this one too,” he said, handing the drones more parts. “Hurry up now.” He reached down into the heart of the device and pulled out a metal ring a meter across. It was comprised of purple neumenium and mirror rhodium. But swirled within its structure was also the blue-black of osmium. “Here's something they won't be able to forge without us.”

  “Have you worked on systems like these before?”

  “As a matter-of-fact, I have.” He held the impaired ring before him, running a hand over the slight bends in an otherwise perfect circle. Jordahk felt an... an irregular dimensional hum as the man did so. “This Coriolis flywheel has to be reforged—or we can fix it here.”

  “Here? Even I can see it needs the forge.”

  “The forge is below decks.” Jhapa looked afar again, before grasping the wheel with both hands. “We don't have time.”

  “It's visibly bent. I can only imagine how the crystalline substructures are messed up.”

  Gasket joined them followed by a line of drones with parts. “We can handle the connections and realign the transmission element, but what about that?”

  “We'll fix it here,” Jhapa said.

  “It's bent,” Jordahk said again.

  “By the way, she's scanning everything out there,” the bot noted.

  “We know,” Jhapa said.

  “Okay, then. There's more to fix.” Gasket knelt into trundle mode for speed and scooted off.

  Jordahk lifted an incredulous palm in Gasket's direction. He looked to Solia who shared his perplexity.

  Jhapa only grunted. His right sleeve rolled up revealing a slim, low-feature bracer. He glanced at both Jordahk and Solia before reaching out. A swirl formed in the air. The man squinted in concentration and the center of the phenomenon expanded with a bright multi-colored edge.

  A dimensional pulsation pounded against Jordahk's chest, like when he floated next to the synced egress some two years before. A different... space was revealed within the edge. Colors clashed in sheering layers. It played tricks on the eye, as if it was not meant to be observed. It was... was...

  “Psychedelic?” Max offered, reading him.

  Solia nodded in the affirmative.

  The passage lit with dancing color. The pulsation increased as Jhapa actually reached his arm into the phenomenon. When he withdrew it, a chunky new layer of bracer was added to what he had. The thicker unit was swirled with platinum and gold. Upon it were bands of rhodium and neumenium. The rift closed with greater speed and ease than its opening.

  Solia watched agog, and Jordahk was speechless.

  “Here, grab this,” Jhapa said, holding out the ring.

  The man put his bracer hand on it. The neumenium band glowed. Jordahk felt gravity pour into the ring. He was testing it.

  “Whoa.” Jordahk swayed as if dizzy. “There's gravity moving through here, or trying to. The channels are... broken.”

  Jhapa raised an eyebrow. “Hmph. There may be hope for you yet.” He laid the whee
l flat on the deck. “Stand back.”

  His palm, placed in the center of the ring, became the epicenter of expanding circles of light and gravity. The ring glowed, catching most, but not all of it. The effect spilled over in sheering waves, distorted by the malfunctioning device. Solia lost her balance and fell into Jordahk. He grabbed her with one arm and the bulkhead with the other to keep his own balance.

  Solia held her head. “What's he doing!”

  “Bear with it a little longer,” Jordahk said. “I think the worst is almost over.”

  They felt squeezed, pushed, and pounded as Jhapa worked the ring with an invisible gravity hammer. He lifted his arm. The ring stayed with it as if an asteroid belt caught in a gravity well. He spun it with his other hand without making contact. The speed increased until it became a glowing blur, filling the passage with rainbow light. He held his palm to it, feeling the remaining imperfections. Jordahk sensed the pulsations becoming smoother until finally the ring expressed evenly.

  “I'm going to release the heat,” Jhapa said.

  A high temperature wall hit them. Jordahk's clothes, the ones Aristahl had obtained for him, were not self-cooling like his long coat, but they dissipated heat. Still, it was too much for them, not to mention his exposed skin. As the intense pulsations of warmth moved into them, he felt Solia's own heat against his body.

  Her perspiring face was close to his, her cheeks and complex, sandy-brown eyes glistened. They had grown familiar since the assassination of her father, Isadore. She was one of the few people he could feel comfortable with this close.

  Finally it all came to an end, and the shaft returned to a light level that seemed darker than when they had started. He released Solia who seemed reluctant to let go.

  “It's okay,” he said. “The gravity irregularities are finished.”

  Jhapa looked at him askance. “Are you daft?”

  “What?” Jordahk asked.

  Jhapa could only shake his head. “Here, try now. Careful, it's still a little hot.”

  Jordahk clasped the ring which had regained perfect roundness. The neumenium band on the man's bracer glowed for less than a second, but that little bit of infused gravity pulled Jordahk off-balance.

 

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