by Ryan Krauter
He heard a commotion behind him and realized that not only did he not have a weapon, but he wasn't going to be winning any hand-to-hand fights either. He turned around and was relieved to see Halley standing in the hatch, a young senator in tow.
"You have this thing figured out yet, Web?" she asked simply.
"The broad strokes. Same as anything that flies; pull back on the yoke- trees get smaller. Push forward- trees get bigger. Everything else I'll figure out as we go."
Pilot humor, Halley thought with a sigh. She couldn't help but grin, though, as she turned to leave. "The senator is going to stay up here with you in case you need anything. Mithus and I are going to clear the ship and get us ready to lift. I'll signal when we're ready. After that, just do what you have to. Remember, leave on a northwest heading and stay low below the AA batteries for a couple minutes."
She turned to leave and caught the slightly uneasy look on the senator's face as he sat down next to Web in the co-pilot's chair.
Web offered a hand for the man to shake. "Commander Web Exeter, Senator. Nice to meet you."
"Senator Thyatt," the man replied, glancing around the flight deck with a hint of nervousness.
"First time up front in a ship like this?" Web asked.
The senator only nodded, and Web could tell the poor guy was in the middle of the transition from adrenaline rush to shock and a crash.
Web made a point of looking around at the panel and all the displays in front of them, then leaned over to look conspiratorially at the senator. "So many buttons and switches. And they really expect us to know what they all do?" He shook his head and smirked as he heard the senator's sharp intake of breath. It was a little mean, but you took your fun when you could at times like this.
Halley ran back to the forward hatch, having just finished her sweep of the transport. No stowaways, and most of the politicians were cooperating and just following her lead as she got them all ready for a rocky departure.
Mithus was at the hatch, hand on the control panel. Something about the look on his face gave her pause, though.
"Are you not coming with us?" she asked, getting right to the point.
Mithus shook his head. "The people I was captured with weren't in this camp. They were good folks who fought hard, and I promised myself I'd find them. I suspect they're still on-planet, but most likely in a dedicated military facility. I think you, me and Web ended up here because we were of interest to them, but the rest of the people I was with are just regular ground pounders. I'm going to find them."
Halley could see the conviction in his gaze and nodded. They weren't on the same mission, weren't required to back each other up. Besides, what he was talking about was definitely a worthy cause and she had Web to help her with the rest now.
"Good luck," she said simply, and raised her hand to her eyebrow in salute. He did the same, then turned and dashed down the ramp and into the swirling dust of the courtyard.
"Web!" Halley yelled up the corridor into the cockpit. "Let's go!"
Web didn't waste any time. As soon as he heard Halley's voice, he gunned the repulsors and the ship rose quickly, the collective stomachs of the ship's occupants following at a distance. Nothing to be done about that, though. As soon as he cleared the roof, he cut in the regular drives and accelerated away to the northwest, following the path the ship had taken inbound. He saw a few knocked-down rooftop relays, dishes and antennas, evidence of the ship's transit. After a few minutes the city started to thin out and he was able to both descend lower while increasing speed more.
As they raced away at high subsonic speeds, Halley clawed her way through the rocking ship up to the cockpit, dragging herself into a jumpseat and buckling herself in.
"Is this turbulence pilot-induced?" she asked skeptically.
"Haha," Web replied. "Priman sensors are excellent. I need to damn near scrape the belly of this bucket on the ground to give us even a shot at avoiding detection. Best bet is to get near a spaceport and join the upstream traffic. Sure, we won't be part of the queue, but a single transport heading to orbit from the middle of the countryside will stand out like you in a bathing suit on a beach. Now, we mess ourselves in with the rest of the traffic, at least we have a chance. We just pick any direction and hit the hyperdrive, figure out the rest later."
Halley only grinned at the way he managed to squeeze in a compliment while he detailed their escape plan.
"You didn't arrange for the Ninth Fleet to be waiting for us by chance, did you?" Web asked.
Halley's grin faded. She hadn't had time or really the inclination to tell Web about Senator Dennix's betrayal of them and Avenger. That would have to be the next thing they talked about.
"No, and funny thing, Web; there's a hell of a story to go along with that."
"Looking forward to it," he replied, most of his concentration now on the approaching spaceport. "Let's see if we can start by just blending in."
Web slowed the transport to normal approach speeds and climbed to join in with the other traffic that was starting to appear as ships converged on the spaceport. Some were following arrivals that took them down to landing pads, while others raised their noses and headed for orbit. Web joined the latter group.
"It's all military traffic," he stated. "I'm going to engage the autopilot and let it take us up the corridor with the rest of the people riding the beams into orbit. We'll just blend in, all part of the same big bloodthirsty, power-mad family..."
Nobody spoke after that as they climbed. The air thinned, the sky became darker as it faded from light to dark blue, then further to black as they left the atmosphere behind.
The stream of ships started to scatter as everyone headed off on their own trajectories. Web picked a direction where nobody else was headed and watched the sensor readouts carefully. A bead of sweat ran down his temple and followed the curve of his jaw, joining the slow but steady parade of drops that gave away his nervousness despite his calm demeanor.
"Halley," Web said softly, as if speaking loudly would somehow give them away. "You're sitting at a console that can do nav work. See if you can plot us a destination straight ahead and get the computer to give us the OK. I can't make sense of every display up here, but best I can tell we're still in the gravity well. As soon as we're out, we'll need to hit the burners."
Halley swiveled her chair to the station and got to work. Much the same as Web had dealt with, the controls weren't Confed standard, but there were only so many ways of setting up a navigation console. She had a slight advantage over Web in that she could understand a small amount of both written and spoken Priman.
"I think we're about thirty seconds away from being clear," she said slowly, scanning the display to see if she was making the right call.
"Got it."
Web was starting to feel better about things, and naturally that is the point at which fate turned on them. He saw a pair of Priman fighters to their port side make a correction towards their path, and a light cruiser on their starboard did the same.
"I think we have Priman units about to catch us in a pincer," Web said slowly.
"What's that?" asked Senator Thyatt.
"Bad things," Halley spoke for Web.
The communications board pinged at an incoming message. Web snapped his head to look at Halley, who nodded. She stabbed the spot on the display that had lit up, but held her hand over the video pickup on the console in front of her.
There was a burst of rapid fire Priman, too fast for Web to try and make out anything useful. He waited for Halley say something, not wanting to interrupt her efforts at translation.
"I'm pretty sure she's demanding a flight plan and name of the officer who approved this ship's departure," Halley said, dread in her voice.
"Try the old equipment malfunction excuse?" Web suggested.
"It's all we have, I guess." Halley turned to the console and tapped the transmit button, then spoke in halted Priman, purposely breaking up her words and sometimes just pausing
for a second or two.
"What did you tell them?" asked the senator.
"That we're moving troops but must be having equipment problems because we're not receiving their transmissions very well," Halley replied. "I think."
"Didn't they teach you those sorts of things?" the senator replied.
"Hey, it was either take night classes in Priman or rescue you and the rest of our government. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"I for one am grateful," Web said.
Web saw it a split second before it happened and responded. The fighters snapped their noses over towards the transport and opened fire, lasers slashing away at mostly empty space since Web had clicked off the autopilot and dumped the nose, changing their flight path barely in time.
"Or I might have said their mothers were primates," Halley admitted. "It's a complicated language."
"Autopilot's off," Web said through gritted teeth. "Hang on."
"Panicking now," Halley replied, winking at Web as he glanced over at her comment.
"I am not including you in my acceptance speech."
Web didn't catch her reply because he was already absorbed in the act of trying to keep them from getting blown to pieces by laser fire. The light cruiser's main ship-to-ship batteries opened up, their shots extremely powerful but turrets slow to traverse and recharge. He was less worried about that ship than the pair of fighters circling around to drop onto the transport's six and shoot them down. The transport juked and rolled, Web always rolling back towards the general direction they'd originally been headed. Once Halley confirmed the nav computer was set he'd need to be pointing in the right direction in order for the route to validate and allow the hyperdrive to engage. At least, that's how a Confed ship worked.
There was a loud bang as one of the cruiser's shots hit a glancing blow on the transport's starboard engine pod. Indicators turned red and warnings in a language Web couldn't understand scrolled by his face in thin air.
"Halley," Web called to her in the jumpseat, "can I assume all these messages are not happy ones?"
"Very unhappy, Web. We're seconds away from a jump, but the sublight engines are almost toast. In fact, one of them just dropped offline."
"It's not like I needed another challenge," Web muttered.
A handful more strikes on the hull shook the ship, but they were lighter blasts from the fighters. The transport stood up to these better, but the fighters were scoring a constant stream of hits now, and with the damage from the cruiser's blast having wiped out the shields, all of them were gouging into the hull. Web heard a wrenching sound, twisting metal and cracking bulkheads, and the ship picked up a vibration that grew in intensity.
"Halley," Web said, concern obvious in his voice.
"Ready!" the yelled as she send the commands through the system.
Web hit the release to engage the hyperdrive, and the computer did the rest. A split second later, the ship vanished at faster-than-light speeds.
It had taken half a day to get back underway for Ravine's ship. Loren and Velk had worked to restore the bridge, though they'd taken their leave before the crew returned and could notice the Representative and human who were wandering about.
Likewise, they'd rescued everyone aboard the two damaged ships. They were both determined to be too far gone for easy recovery, so had been destroyed. Now, their crews were all confined to quarters or the common spaces that had been set aside for them. While Ravine believed that most of them were just following the orders of their captains, there were two problems.
First, the captains and senior bridge crew had knowingly attacked another Priman ship. And not just any ship; the personal vessel of a Representative's family. In addition, everyone aboard now knew that a Confederation vessel had been shadowing them through Priman space. With both these issues in mind, Ravine reluctantly decided that the crews would be held as 'guests' upon their arrival at Callidor so that he could conduct his business.
A day passed uneventfully and they found themselves in the Callidor system. Loren and Velk watched from the Representative's salon just off the bridge, the elder Ravine staying out with the crew as they proceeded into their stronghold.
Loren took note of the system's defenses, something that Velk was obviously not too pleased with. He didn't say anything, however, and stood there with Loren as they watched the system on the monitors.
"So, here we are," Loren said quietly. "Now what?"
"We will meet with the Representative," Velk replied confidently. "We will go to the surface and receive an audience in her offices. I will make my case as I told you I would. As an outsider to the command structure, you are not expected or encouraged to say anything, though if she asks you something decorum requires you to answer."
"Will she hear you out?"
"We wouldn't be risking all of this if I didn't think we had a chance," Velk said solemnly.
Seven
With the cruiser docked in orbit, Loren and the rest of Ravine's party rode a shuttle down to the surface. Callidor looked much the same as Loren remembered it from the start of the war. The Primans hadn't leveled the place and rebuilt it in a new image or anything so drastic. There were a number of new buildings, mostly near the drastically expanded spaceports that dotted the surface.
The shuttle headed for a cluster of hundred story tall buildings. There were a series of landing platforms on the fiftieth floors of the towers, and the shuttle landed on one of these. The party marched quickly through deserted hallways to a turbolift that took them to the top floors. These levels were given over to large penthouses, the owners and CEOs of the building's commercial occupants often feeling the need to live close to the action. Now the spaces were home, at least in this building, to the extended Ravine clan. As a family with a currently in-service Representative, their status was among the highest of all Priman families; their decades of commitment had earned them that.
Guards having remained outside the doors, Loren and the rest were alone in the large, two story living space. One wall featured floor to ceiling windows which gave an amazing panorama of Harkor, the capital city.
"So what's next on the agenda, then?" Loren asked after he'd given everyone else a fair amount of time to direct the conversation.
"My daughter will join us shortly," the elder Ravine replied. "We will have an open and honest talk about the future of our people. Please know that your involvement in that discussion is not needed. This is a matter strictly for my people. In due course, Representative Velk will take the floor. He will no doubt call on you then for comment. Decorum dictates that is when you will have your chance to be heard."
Loren nodded, trying to make sure he remembered everything. As much as he wanted to just shake this Ravine woman, he had to play by their rules if he wanted them to take him seriously.
"How do I address her?"
"As astute observation, Commander," Ravine said, nodding thoughtfully. "You no doubt have heard various methods of address amongst us by now. We shall start at the top. The Commander has a first and family name like every other Priman. However, when serving as the Commander of our forces, he or she is addressed by that title alone; no family name is required. There is only one Commander, and to use any other method of address insults the person and position. Representatives are the next highest in the day to day structure. They are addressed by their family name only; no first name is used. Once again, each family is therefore recognized as having offered up a Representative, but since there is only one per family and only two serving in close advisory roles to the Commander at a time, no first name is used for them.
"There is a Council, made up of a combination of appointed, elected, and inherited positions. The Council determines the overall course for our people as a whole. They provide broad directions, while the Commander decides how to achieve those goals."
Loren only nodded now. He knew some of the basics from talking to Velk and from what little Fleet Intelligence had managed to put together, but thi
s was largely news to him.
He was about to ask when this meeting would take place when the large double doors to the suite opened. In walked a middle aged Priman woman. She was tall, athletic, and had an air of confidence about her.
"Representative Ravine," her father said, all smiles as he walked over to offer a quick embrace. She smiled as she returned the gesture.
Her father stepped away, holding one of her hands in his own as he swept the other towards Loren and Velk.
"Daughter, please let me introduce Representative Velk, whom you already know. Also Commander Loren Stone, Executive Officer of the CSS Avenger, of the Confederation of Systems."
Ravine's smile froze, then faded and was replaced by a thoughtful look as she took him in. She took a few steps closer, Loren standing his ground and waiting for her to set the tone.
"I know you, Commander," she began. "We've fought each other, in fact. My ships tended to lose those engagements."
Loren wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't risk putting her at odds with him before the day even started, but sure as hell wasn't going to seem repentant for fighting on his people's behalf either. "It was just business, Representative," was the best he could think of.
Ravine pursed her lips, canted her head a bit as she looked at him, and only replied with a "Hmm."
"Let's all sit, shall we?" she continued as she indicated an immense table made out of some sort of bluish tinted crystal. "Representative Velk, you and Commander Stone have come a long way to tell me a story of intrigue, deception, and danger to our combined peoples. Please begin."
Web and Halley sat alone on the bridge in what was only the second span of uninterrupted time they'd had in the last half day. Already the senators were getting anxious about where they were going, when they'd get there, and who was in charge of the mission.
