by J. N. Chaney
They both brooded over the scanner. The Slipwing had come equipped with two remote probes—small, reusable drones that could be launched to investigate things and return data about them. Dash had only used one, once, and had mostly forgotten about them. They’d decided to launch them, sending them to exit the Pasture and its complex emanations of energy, and send back scans of what waited outside, along the most direct path back to the Shadow Nebula. Only one worked, the other failing in some cryptic way that they didn’t have time to fix. The working one transmitted data for about thirty seconds once it was in the clear, before it went abruptly offline from an energy spike that was probably a particle beam. There’d be no shortage of those, because a flotilla of Clan Shirna ships lurked just outside the Pasture, clearly waiting for them to emerge.
Dash scowled at the data the unfortunate probe had managed to return. There was no hope of fighting their way through this armada of ships, which included Echoes, larger things closer to corvettes and frigates, and a large capital ship similar to the one from which Dash had rescued Leira and Viktor.
“We can use the Fade,” Leira said. “That should get us through the worst of it.”
“Maybe. Trouble is, the deeper we go into unSpace with it, the more fuel it burns and the less awareness we have of real space for things like, oh, you know, navigating. But if we stay shallow, we leave more of our butt hanging in real space to be a target.”
Silence followed.
“Fine. Okay,” Dash finally said. “If we can’t fight our way through, then let’s do it the smart way.”
“Which is?” Leira asked.
“Oh. I was hoping you’d know. I’m just setting up the ideas here, not actually having them,” said Dash.
“Great,” she said.
Dash smirked. “Kidding. Hey, this is one of those moments that needs a little levity, you know?”
“So, do you actually have an idea, then? Or is just more of you trying to be funny? Which you’re not, by the way.”
“I’m hurt,” Dash said, but smiled. “Yeah, I do have an idea, actually. See, I’ve met Nathis’s type before, lots of times. He’s a greedy, power-hungry asshole. Sure, he’s wrapped it up in religious finery, but in his nasty little heart, he’s still just a greedy, power-hungry asshole. So let’s use that against him.”
“How?” she asked.
“Well, first, we let him know that we’ve got a lot of Unseen tech aboard. Not just the Lens, now, but also the Ribbon, and those other bits and pieces of what might be scrap, but might also be amazing tech. That guarantees two things.”
“And those would be?” she asked.
“First, he’s not going to want us destroyed, because that might lose him that tech he wants. He’s going to want us disabled, which means he’s going to want our engines targeted as a priority. That means getting in close and firing at us in specific ways that we can anticipate. And second, when we are disabled, he’s not going to let anyone else board us before he does.”
Leira looked impressed. “That’s actually quite insightful.”
“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face.”
“So you’re saying he’ll be predictable,” she said, ignoring the joke.
“Damn right he will. So, we come up with a plan to work around his predictability.”
She cocked her head to the side and slanted him a sly look. “Okay, and do you have such a plan, or is this just another vague idea?”
Dash flashed her a grin. “Oh, I actually have a plan.”
Dash looked around the Slipwing’s cockpit. He and Leira were belted in, as was Conover, behind them. Viktor had elected to remain closer to the engineering bay, in case anything needed a fast fix.
“Everyone ready?”
Leira and Conover nodded. Over the comms, Viktor said, “As I’ll ever be.”
“Okay, boys and girls, let’s do our thing.”
Dash fired up the fusion drive, thrusting the Slipwing toward the edge of the Pasture.
Minutes passed. Dash had already powered up the four missiles the Slipwing carried, along with both particle cannons. All the weapons showed a ready status, which was both good and a little surprising, because one of the missile launchers had been wonky since he’d acquired the ship. Viktor did damned good work.
The scanner continued to produce mostly uncertain fuzz, then it began to clear, slowly peeling back the interference to reveal the terrifying sprawl of the Clan Shirna fleet ahead.
“Was kinda hoping they’d have given up and gone home,” Dash said, turning to the fire control.
“They’re not likely to do that,” Conover said. “They’re simply too invested—”
“I was kidding, kid,” Dash snapped, tapping a control to start the missiles running the program Viktor had created for them, from an idea Leira had proposed. After a moment, all the missiles came online, and Dash wasted no time launching them. The Slipwing shuddered as the four missiles that leapt from the launchers oriented themselves so they wouldn’t hit the ship with their exhaust, then sparked up their fusion engines and shot away.
Dash reoriented the Slipwing but didn’t ramp the drive up to full power—yet. Instead, he watched the missiles’ telemetry. They were talking among themselves just as they’d intended them to, rearranging their positions and trajectories in concert, making what were already small targets that much harder to hit while ensuring they found and attacked the optimum target.
Particle beams lanced out, seeking the missiles. They dodged and wove quickly, frustrating the aim of the Clan Shirna weapons. Nothing targeted the Slipwing yet, though, just as Dash had predicted. They were still much too far away to allow accurate targeting of their engines. Still, Dash kept a close eye on the pattern of shots, ignoring the tight clench in his gut and refining the Slipwing’s course.
A missile vanished in a flash as a particle beam finally found it. Okay, they were harder to hit, not impossible.
A second missile exploded.
If at least one of the missiles didn’t get through…
The two remaining missiles abruptly changed course, pulling g forces no inertial suppressor could have offset. Dash saw the new target they reported. So did Leira.
“Let’s hope that works,” she said, and Dash grunted his assent, changing the Slipwing’s course to match the new trajectory.
Both missiles raced toward a frigate. The ship pumped out particle beam shots, and opened up with its point-defense lasers. One of the missiles decelerated, letting the other speed ahead of it. The leading missile streaked through the barrage of fire aimed at it then detonated a few kilometers short of the target with a dazzling flash, followed by an expanding cloud of plasma. The second missile plunged into the cloud, then through it, the glowing gas preventing the frigate’s fire control systems from maintaining a lock.
And now it was too late. By the time the ship had reacquired the missile, there was only time for a shot or two. It slammed into the frigate with a spray of debris, a puff of venting atmosphere. Another massive fusion explosion blew the Clan Shirna ship to whirling fragments of glowing debris.
“That was a really good idea,” Conover said, “using one missile’s explosion to cover the other’s final approach.”
“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face,” Leira said, but she was looking at Dash as she did.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re brilliant,” Dash shot back, giving her a nod of acknowledgement and wide grin. But his eyes were still on the Slipwing’s controls. He aimed for the center of the debris cloud that was now a glaring hole in the Clan Shirna blockade. Irradiated chunks of what had once been a ship spun past the Slipwing, Dash weaving his way among them. Particle beams had opened up, and now they were close enough to at least some of Clan Shirna ships to allow them to distinguish their engines as distinct targets, but the ionized gas and hunks of debris threw off their targeting. Then they were through the Clan Shirna line. Dash applied full power and the Slipwing leapt away, heading for the Shadow Nebula.
“The Echoes won’t follow us into the nebula,” Conover offered. “They’re too small and not unSpace capable.”
Dash nodded. “As far as Nathis is concerned, it doesn’t matter. His big ship will handle the Nebula much better than ours, and he’s got fuel to burn, while we have to watch every drop.”
“So he will eventually catch up to us.”
Dash nodded again. “Of course he will. In fact, I’m counting on it.” He unstrapped himself and stood. “You got the Lens, Leira?”
She dug it out, but hesitated to hand it over. “Are you sure about this? I really hate to lose this.”
“We know the locations of a whole bunch more.”
She frowned at Dash, then at the Lens, then sighed and let him take it. “Okay, I’ll fly the Slipwing from here. You go do what you’ve got to do, Dash.”
He nodded, but lingered a moment with his eyes meeting hers. Then he turned to Conover. “Okay, kid, let’s go.” He lifted the Lens. “You need to show me how to use this thing.
The Slipwing raced into the Shadow Nebula, passing through ever thicker clouds of dust and ionized gas. These were nothing more than an annoyance, degrading the quality of their scans but not really presenting an obstacle—at first. But as time passed and they plunged deeper into the nebula, the clouds of charged particles, dust, and larger chunks of debris became larger and thicker. The Slipwing’s navigation deflectors, powerful magnetic fields intended to divert dust and gas around as he swept through space, could deal with much of it. But they couldn’t stop all of it; soon, her hull began to register impacts—miniscule collisions with dust particles. At her current speed, striking even a tiny grain of dust released proportionally vast energy. The Slipwing’s plating began to abrade; worse, more sensitive components would soon start taking damage. And there was more—much worse—ahead. Whatever forces had created the Shadow Nebula had left much larger pieces of debris lurking amid thick, obscuring clouds of dust, ship-killers that couldn’t be seen or even detected until far too late to avoid.
As Dash hunkered in the crew hab and listened to Conover, something thumped against the hull, hard. Dash winced and Viktor said, “We should use the Fade. Conover and I tweaked it so it should use less anti-deuterium, at least at a low setting.”
“It would help us avoid being, you know, smashed into little pieces,” Conover said.
Dash nodded and Viktor went forward to talk to Leira. Conover continued to explain the details of what he’d been able to discern about the Lens. The familiar rumbling whine of the Fade rose, and the Slipwing’s passage suddenly seemed to smooth out. Dash hadn’t even really realized how much noise and vibration had filtered through the hull from collisions and impacts, until both were gone.
Viktor returned. “Okay, Dash,” he said, “I’ve made sure the crash beacon on the emergency pod is working—oh, it wasn’t, by the way, so if you’d have needed to use it, you never would have been found.”
“Oh. Well, that sucks.”
“But it is now.” Viktor’s face became a little disapproving, letting Dash know what he thought about shoddy maintenance. “Anyway, I’ve boosted the power input to it, so it should have the range you wanted.”
“Perfect. And Conover here has clued me in to the workings of this thing”—he gestured at the Lens— “so now it’s time to poke Nathis with a stick.” He looked toward the ceiling. “Hey, Leira, how are our friends back there doing? I assume we’re still being chased?”
“I was just going to report on that,” her voice came back. “Before we went into Fade, I saw the Echoes give up and fall back.”
“Heh, they can’t take the nebula, eh?” Dash said.
“Since I saw one of them pulverized by a collision with something, I’d say no. They aren’t meant for this type of flying,” Viktor said.
“How about the big ship? The one we assume Nathis is on?” Dash said.
“Between this nebula and using the Fade, our sensor data is basically done for, but, yeah, it was still in the chase and, yeah, still seems to be. Gaining on us, too. Slowly, but definitely gaining.” Viktor was grimly confident of his assessment.
Dash nodded at the air. “About what I expected. Let us know if anything changes.”
“Will do,” Viktor said.
Unlike the little Echoes, the big capital ship was more than capable of taking on the nebula. Not only did she have far more bulk and heavy plating, but she could project much more powerful navigation deflectors. She was also far more resilient than the Slipwing; only the Fade gave them enough edge to stay ahead. And even that wouldn’t last. Nathis could burn fuel at a rate Dash could only dream of. The big ship might have far more mass, but she also had far more powerful engines and could burn them for much longer.
Which meant, Dash thought, that it was time to change this from an ultimately futile chase into something else.
He picked up the Lens and moved to the cargo bay where they’d kept the Ribbon. While Viktor and Conover remained discreetly outside the bay, Dash activated a portable comms repeater, took a breath, and hit transmit.
“Hello, Nathis. Just wanted to, you know, say hi, and…oh right, to show you this.” He lifted the Lens into view. “See, we have things you can’t even begin to imagine here. Like this.” He gestured at the Ribbon. “The things we’ve acquired and learned, it’s pretty amazing. And when we get to the other side of the Shadow Nebula—because we will, and you won’t be able to stop us—we’ll be entirely free of your reach. And then, I’m going to sell all this remarkable shit to the biggest navy I can find, and point them right back at you. Probably provoke a rush to explore and exploit your precious Pasture, too. Ain’t no way you’re going to be able to stop that. Anyway, all this means that your glory ends here. Just wanted you to hear that.”
Dash flicked off the comms and took another deep breath. He glanced at Viktor and Conover, who’d remained well off-screen. “Well, that should rile him up.”
As soon as Dash said it, the comms lit up with an incoming signal. He smirked and said, “And now he probably wants to talk about it.”
“I suspect,” Conover said, “he’s just going to make a series of threats.”
“Gee, you think?”
Viktor rubbed his chin. “Well, if we ever had a chance of negotiating an end to this, we don’t anymore.”
Dash curled his lip. “Do you really think we ever did?”
“Uh, no.”
Dash looked at the Lens and said, “Okay, so, time for the next part.”
“Dash,” Conover said, “you do realize your chances of actually pulling this off—”
“Are something I don’t need to know.” He flashed his best grin at the kid. “Unwarranted confidence is what’s got me this far. Don’t try to get me started on being realistic about things.” He looked at Viktor. “Is the escape pod ready?”
“As it will ever be.”
Dash put the Lens into his pocket. “Okay, let’s go before I actually do start considering my chances.”
The Slipwing’s escape pod, which Dash had nicknamed the Halfwing, wasn’t much—a small crew hab; minimal systems for navigation, comms, and scanning; a powerful fusion engine; and an abbreviated unSpace drive. Her austere interior wasn’t meant for comfort; it was meant for survival. And as for her ability to maneuver—again, she wasn’t a fighting ship. He could expect only a brief bit of unSpace travel—intended to be just enough to get close to an inhabited planet, shipping route, or other bit of civilization that rescue might actually be possible—and not much more fusion burn time. On the plus side, she was small, maneuverable, and fast.
Dash clambered into the Halfwing and looked at Viktor and Conover, who were framed in the hatchway. “You guys take good care of my ship.” He raised his voice a bit. “That goes for you, too, Leira.”
“Don’t worry, Dash,”
she said. “You just come back.”
“That’s the plan.”
He waved at Viktor and Conover, then closed and sealed the hatch. He levered himself into the pilot’s couch, a chore made more awkward by the bulk of the vac suit he was wearing, minus helmet, which he kept nearby. The Halfwing had no shield to speak of, so even minor damage could open her to space. Her systems were already powered and everything glowed green, including the airlock indicator.
“Okay, Leira, give me a countdown.”
“Okay, coming out of Fade in three…two…one…”
The sound of the Fade system faded.
“And,” Leira went on, decelerating in—”
“No!” Dash called. “Don’t slow down! If you do, Nathis will be on top of you in no time.”
“We can’t eject you at this velocity, Dash.”
“Sure you can. Just make sure I’m not going to be instantly pulverized by a big rock.”
He heard Leira’s sigh over the comms. “Fine, give me a second.”
Dash waited, staring at the comms. Come on, Leira, our window of time here is pretty tight.
“Okay, Dash, hang on.”
“Hanging on.”
The world suddenly turned sideways, then upside down, yanking Dash’s stomach along with it. He gasped, blinked away starbursts behind his eyes from the sudden, wrenching accelerations, then frantically poked at the controls. First, he activated the dispersion field, a jury-rigged EM emitter Viktor had installed to obscure his life-signs from any of Clan Shirna’s scans. Next he activated the thrusters, getting control of the Halfwing and aiming her on a trajectory away from the departing Slipwing and back toward a searing blue star in the Globe of Suns. As he did, a prerecorded message transmitted from the Slipwing.
“Hey, Nathis,” his voice said, “I really don’t want you to get your hands on this Lens, so it’s going into a blue star to be puffed away to vapor. We’ll hang onto the other stuff, though. So, guess you have a decision to make about what you want more—us, or the Lens. Better think fast.”
