by Ryan Krauter
"Taking him to see some old friends?"
"Now, we're pals and all, but you know I really shouldn't tell you what I'm planning on doing."
Garrett smiled. "Information is my life. You know I have to ask."
Loren looked Garrett in the eye. "I can tell you this: if it works, everything will change. I plan to try and end this war. And some people here won't like that one bit."
"Are you referring to a certain overbearing senator whose initials are Zek Dennix?"
"Maybe. I'm just saying you might want to keep an eye on him if things start shaking up around here. I would take a personal interest in where he'd want to go if he tries to get out of town."
"Noted. Maybe I can bill Confed one last time before you sort everything out, eh?"
The fixer continued. "You know, if you were still flying combat missions, I think I'd lobby to have your call sign be 'Mayhem'. It suits you." Loren only grinned.
Garrett looked at Loren with a critical eye, a bit of concern creeping into his voice. "How's that sandwich?"
Three
Loren had returned to Garrett's ship with him, and after an official reintroduction with the Priman Representative Velk, the three of them strapped into bridge seats while Garrett left the station and headed out into deep space.
Avenger was actually located about thirty minutes out from the station at high speed, a precaution Garrett thought excessive.
"I'm afraid I have to admit we're hiding from the Primans and the rest of Confed," Loren said with a resigned sigh. "Like we said at our last meeting; both our leaderships need an upgrade."
As soon as they reverted from hyperspace, they were hailed by Avenger.
"XO here," Loren replied to the challenge from his ship. He looked at Garrett as he kept the control button down on the console. "Total of three aboard, all according to plan. Where are you hiding?"
In response, Loren, Garrett and Velk saw Avenger shimmer into view directly ahead of them. In seconds, the ship was in full view, exterior lights burning proud and bright as if the ship itself was showboating just a little.
"That technology still disconcerts me," Velk admitted in a low voice.
Loren turned to Garrett and smiled. "And no, Garrett, you can't have one."
Garrett chuckled. "Everything has a price, my friend."
Garrett matched velocity with Avenger, then rolled his ship to port as he brought his ship even with Avenger's dorsal port side crew hatch, located about a third of the way down her upper hull from the bow at the edge of the armor plate just before the midships viewports. He expertly slid his ship into position, extended the short docking collar, then verified the seals before enabling the door release.
Garrett tapped the button that requested entry, and a second later the crew hatch hissed, clunked, and slid open to reveal the access trunk inside Avenger. It had a sloped floor that matched the angle of the crew hatch, transitioning to the same angle as Avenger's decking after a few feet. The gravity plates allowed for such designs, and while walking from one angle to the next was easy enough, many people took short, cautious steps.
Exterior hatch closed, the inner hatch to the ship's interior opened to show a vacant corridor. The only person there was Lieutenant Commander Sarria Mastruk, Loren's trusted second in command in the Combat Control Center.
She greeted Loren with a crisp salute, Garrett and Velk with a handshake.
"Sorry we aren't being more formal, no side party or that sort of thing," she said by way of greeting, "but the captain figured it was still best to keep news of your arrival quiet as long as possible."
"I understand," Velk said.
"So that's all for now?" Garrett asked.
"Afraid so," replied Loren. "I appreciate all your help. We'll talk again real soon, I'm sure."
"Always an adventure, Commander."
Loren and Velk walked quickly down corridors that were temporarily devoid of crew, a task made easier by Mastruk's inventive scheduling and assigned drills. With visiting officer's quarters located near Loren's XO stateroom, Velk would be just a few hatches away.
The hatch now closed, Velk walked his quarters and gave the place a quick once-over.
"Your officers are all assigned such quarters?"
"Close enough," Loren admitted. "This ship isn't meant to be a flagship, so there's no Admiral's quarters to offer you. Sorry."
"I meant to marvel at how much space you have." Velk looked at the small viewport which showed the stars outside. Already they could both feel the ship accelerating, adjusting pitch and roll slightly as she was aligned for her hyperspace route. "You can imagine my people are used to living in far smaller accommodations."
"Well, if they join Confed they'll get an upgrade," Loren said with a straight face, curious to see if the Priman got the humor.
"My people..." Velk paused. "I see. You don't actually mean it as such. I admit to not having much of a sense of humor. My people can be mischievous in that way; not me, however."
Loren waited for Velk to continue, content to stare out the viewport in the meantime.
"You truly intend to risk your life getting me back to my people?"
"It's like we agreed earlier; I'm doing this for my people, you're doing it for yours. If that makes us allies, then I can live with that. I'll let somebody else work out the details afterwards; I'll be content to get both sides talking instead of shooting."
Velk just nodded and stared off, lost in thought.
"There is a tradition among my people, made harder by confinement in our motherships of course, that we observe before we can be considered adults. The person must leave his home, travel to someplace far away from family and friends. It's a personal journey, but one must wander, go outside themselves and alienate their old lives. They must try things opposite to their nature; honest people must try to lie, dishonest ones must learn truth. The goal is to learn to experience the whole range of emotion and morality, to be able to see through everyone's eyes. Only then can we be considered ready to lead, to know those we command."
Velk turned to look at Loren. "You may wonder what this has to do with anything. Well, my time in Confederation space was like a second journey to me. I saw something different, through not only a new viewpoint but also the eyes of my adversary. I realized there can be a different way. We want to be a part of this galaxy again, Commander Stone, but I think we can do it by coexisting. I just need to convince my people of that."
Loren chewed on his inner lip at the comments. If Velk was being honest, then the revelation would quite possibly help restore peace to the galaxy. If he was playing him, well, things would end badly for all.
"What is our plan to return to Priman space?" asked Velk. "I assume Avenger will not plan on just cruising up to our picket ships and asking permission to enter?"
"We'll acquire a ship for you and I to use while Avenger follows at a safe distance," Loren replied. "Our friend Garrett gave me the itinerary of some local disreputable types who have some vessels we could borrow. We'll monitor them, do a mini-jump right into their midst and board a ship. The rest we'll make up as we go."
"Sounds risky to the health of your ship to plan a jump into an enemy formation."
"It is," Loren admitted cheerfully. "The computer will tell us it's a horrible idea, then we'll have to convince it otherwise. But as you well know this ship doesn't have any generators that can disrupt a hyperdrive field; we need to surprise them so they don't scatter. Then it's just you and me on what is sure to be one hell of a road trip."
"Your friend Garrett Drayven would make a powerful ally," Velk noted.
"He is," Loren reassured the Priman. Loren seemed to pick up on a thought. "My ally, not yours," he felt the need to clarify.
It had been an entire day and Web had not seen the new prisoner in the cell next to him. He'd been outside again briefly with Mithus the previous morning, gone through meals, the night, and the next afternoon. Mithus had been sticking near him ever since their first conver
sation; either he was Confed and wanted to stick together, or he was a Priman plant who was determined to get what he could out of Web. Still no telling, really.
Web sat at a table in the outdoor courtyard that had bench seats on each side. Maybe there had been games of chance, cards, board games or something similar on the tops once. Now, they were just barren, scratched table tops that were showing signs of age and neglect.
He had been making small talk with Mithus when the guards stomped through the courtyard carrying the inert form of a human woman draped between them.
They unceremoniously deposited her at the table behind Web, her back to his, and left in the same rush they had been in the entire time.
Web didn't know if he was supposed to be interested. What would the Primans want to see? He'd give them the opposite. He did shift in his seat as he talked to Mithus, catching a quick glimpse of the woman as she stirred and propped herself up on her elbows.
In the name of all the stars in the universe, Web knew it was Halley. There was something about her stance, the way she held her head up and ran her hand through her hair to straighten out the mess a bit. He wanted to jump up and wrap her up in a the biggest embrace of his life, but he couldn't. First, it would tip off the Primans and they'd use it against them in a heartbeat; it was safest to not admit knowing her. Second, he still didn't trust Mithus. Third, he needed to be absolutely sure it was Halley seated behind him; he couldn't make assumptions or take any chances.
He knew what he had to do, and only hoped Mithus hadn't seen him twitching with excitement at the idea of Halley being there with him.
"Hey Mithus," Web said casually to the man, still sitting across the table from him.
"Yes?"
"Remember when I told you about that friend of mine? The one with the temper and destructive tendencies?"
"I believe you mentioned a volcano."
"Yup, that's the one. I was just thinking about her. I'll be honest; she was more than a friend. We dated for a bit, but it got very weird. She was actually a complete and total psycho, overcontrolling and possessive. She once beat a coworker into a liquid state because she thought I had a crush on the other woman. She was a thief, too; she'd steal anything that wasn't bolted down. Once we started dating, she completely let herself go. She didn't shower for weeks.
"I once asked her if she wanted to try new things in bed, and she said she wasn't interested. Later, I found out she'd bagged the entire incoming flight school class at the local Confed airbase; men, women and an asexual life form on an exchange program. I still don't know how the hell that happened."
"Alright," the battered woman from the other bench spoke up, voice cracking from a dry throat and disuse over the last two days. "I deserved that, but you should shut it now, Web, or I'll still give you a beating."
"That's a hollow threat because you know I'd like it."
Web was nearly vibrating as he tried to control himself. He couldn't show the Primans anything to indicate his concern for Halley; they were watching, no doubt, and he couldn't put her in jeopardy that way. Still, he slowly spun around on his bench to look at her.
She'd turned, too, and with a grimace pushed herself to her feet to face him and Mithus. She flashed a quick, short smile at Web, then it was gone.
"Im really trying to not jump all over you right now," Web said as quietly as he could.
"You better not," Halley replied. "Besides," she said as she ran her tongue across a couple teeth, probing their integrity, "I have a bruised jaw; one of your slobbery kisses would hurt too much." She extended her hand towards him. "How about a firm handshake?"
Web replied with a hand gesture that was recognized as rude and demeaning on at least twenty planets he knew of. "How about this instead?"
"A handshake will have to do, sailor," she replied, and Web could tell she was holding back a smile as well. They shook; her touch made Web dizzy.
"Mithus, nice to see you alive," she said calmly.
"You too, Halley."
She looked at them, surveying the yard and any Primans she could lay eyes on. "Ok, I'm using up the last of my nanites' batteries. Talk soft and don't move your lips much; I'm generating a weak damping field. How long was I out?"
"You came in two nights ago late," Web stated. "We didn't see you yesterday, and here we are now."
"Damn," she said quietly as she ran some calculations. "Alright, here's the plan. We need to figure out how we're escaping with all these Senators, because the jailbreak happens four days from now."
The small pirate flotilla sat in formation, drifting aimlessly while its captain oversaw the transfer of plunder among the ships. Having recently raided a small Enkarran settlement, the pirates were chock full of goods, from food to equipment to weapons. The captain, experienced pirate that he was, knew enough to keep as much of the loot as possible aboard his flagship and spread out amongst the rest of the ships what was left. It reduced the chances of any enterprising captains or crews from deciding they could get rich quick by taking off with his bounty.
Captain Ares had seen fit to work the areas in the boundary space between Confed, the remains of the Talaran Collection, and the old Enkarran Empire/current Priman space. There were plenty of opportunities to take advantage of, and his latest haul was proof of that.
"How much longer?" Captain Ares asked of his second in command on the bridge. The compartment was cramped, with pipes, ducts, wiring bundles and lights hanging too low from the overhead. The ship had been rebuilt dozens of times, often with new components just bolted right on over the old ones when time was tight and funds were short. Someday he'd buy or, more likely, steal a much better ship.
"An hour at most," the woman assured him. "We only had to make an example of one crewmember on one of the smaller freighters; everyone else is falling into line nicely."
"Excellent."
Commander Second Rank Corinne Sosus was at the front of a formation of twelve Intruders speeding off into space away from Avenger. They each carried one lightweight torpedo and a few thousand rounds of armor piercing ammunition in addition to the laser cannons on the wingtips.
"Alright Warbirds," she spoke into her helmet mic. "Just remember the plan. These are pirates; scum that doesn't deserve our attention, much less our lives. We have the big pieces in this puzzle taken care of, so don't do anything overly risky. Save it all for the Primans, not these filthy scavengers. We have our targets; let's show them how it's done, alright?"
She grinned as she thought about the hell her people were about to unleash on the criminals located a micro-jump away.
One deck below the bridge, in Avenger's C3 room, Loren Stone surveyed his own staff. Lieutenant Commander Sarria Mastruk wandered the rows of terminals, her watchful eye taking in the preparations of the crew. On the raised platform at the rear of the space, Loren looked over the attack plan one more time, trying to find fault with something. It was useless; it was as foolproof as could be hoped for, considering the amount of prep time and objectives at hand.
"Ready for the jump, Loren?" he heard from his side. He turned to look at the on-screen image of Captain Elco from the bridge.
"C3 is all set, Captain."
Elco looked off screen, looking at what Loren knew was the helm station. "Let's go."
Captain Ares was leaning back in his command chair, stretching his arms behind his head as he watched the tiny holographic ships of his fleet in the holo field to the right of his station. A few more runs like this and he'd take a couple weeks off, he decided.
"Captain!" a panicked voice screeched from the rear of the bridge. Ares turned around to yell at the man, telling him to not make such a fool of himself, when he saw what the sensor station was showing.
"Everyone scatter!" he yelled.
Cory's Intruders reverted to regular space first, instantly performing their trademark starburst maneuver to spread out as quickly as possible.
Cory's combat computer only took a second to populate her displays with tar
get information. She was supposed to be looking for a Wilde Systems Cargo Frigate, and Loren had assured her that there would be only one. It was the captain's own vessel and was the best of the lot. Everything else was irrelevant, and to Cory it was a wonderfully target rich environment.
Seconds later, Avenger herself appeared within a few ship lengths of the cargo frigate and immediately made a hard port turn to close the gap. Her port side laser batteries spoke, virtually outlining the frigate's shape with a continuous stream of deadly blasts to coerce her into not changing course. An unshielded ship like that pirate vessel wouldn't handle more than two or three hits before it was floating wreckage, and the pirates knew it.
Cory watched Avenger close on the much smaller ship, then turned her attention to her own task: eliminating the rest of the pirates. Their profiles matched known pirate vessels in the Confed database and as such had standing capture-or-kill orders, but the simple act of them turning to run was what spurred her on. She didn't even waste her torpedo on the ships, instead leading her squadron as she weaved among the vessels, chopping away at engines and bridge modules with her lasers and armor-piercing twin autocannons.
The two ships that fired at them were dispatched by her wingmen, who both used their light torpedoes to guarantee a quick kill. Whereas laser and cannon hits caused debris, damage and the occasional fire, torpedoes buried themselves deep into the enemy's hull as their shaped charges gutted the insides. Everything flammable ignited, and both ships were briefly-expanding fireballs before she could even ask who was planning on taking them out. Her people were on top of their game after years of savage war with the Primans.
Avenger's two Freedom class transports shot out of the hangars, instantly making tight turns towards the pirate frigate. Though Avenger didn't have the Marine complement of an Assault Ship like their former fleet companion Torino, she had plenty of security personnel who were trained in initiating and repelling boarding actions and were eager to use their skills.
