Trader Vyx

by DePrima, Thomas

  Taking up position almost twenty-five kilometers across from the habitat, the small ship could cover both the tunnel entrance and the entire habitat structure. Jenetta ordered the torpedo gunners to open fire on the sixteen warships that had stern torpedo tubes. Blinding flashes filled the dimly lit cavern as the Colorado emptied her ten bow tubes. Torpedoes streaked across the short distance to the airlock piers. With a torpedo reload time of just fifteen seconds, a second volley quickly followed the first. The sterns of all sixteen targeted warships were reduced to scrap in less than a minute. None got a torpedo off before their destruction was complete. It was a certain bet that many Raiders had died in those ships, but Jenetta hadn't had a choice. She couldn't allow the warships' gunnery crews to open fire on the Colorado. The ships without stern torpedo capability weren't targeted because they offered a minimal threat with just their laser arrays. The cavern was strewn with hull pieces, Raider bodies, and assorted detritus by the time the carnage was over.

  "Com, I want to send a message to the habitat using RF communications in the three to thirty megahertz range."

  The com operator pushed a spot on his keyboard. "Go ahead, Captain. You're broadcasting on all frequencies on the High Frequency band."

  "Attention, base commander. This is the captain of the GSC Colorado. I give you five minutes to surrender or suffer annihilation. If you commence an attack against us, we'll open fire on the habitat. If you try to send any IDS band messages to anyone, we'll open fire on the habitat. If you refuse to acknowledge this message, we'll open fire on the habitat. Respond on any RF frequency between three and thirty megahertz only."

  The bridge was intensely quiet as they waited for a response to come. Almost the full five minutes had passed before a signal was received. When the com operator put the image up on the main viewscreen, Jenetta could see that the caller was red-faced with anger.

  "Who are you?" the obviously frustrated man demanded.

  "I've identified myself," Jenetta said, "I'm the one who's prepared to put several torpedoes into your habitat building. Now, who are you?"

  "I'm Maximo Bacheer, the commandant of this base."

  "And what do you call this base, Commandant? Raider what?"

  "Raider Eight."

  Jenetta was shocked, but didn't allow it to show on her face. She expected it to be Four or Five. As far as she knew, the Raiders had only had six bases in Galactic Alliance Space when Raider One was destroyed. The commandant could be trying to mislead her, though, by providing a fictitious number.

  "Well, Commandant. Do you surrender, or do we open fire and finish what we've started."

  "Yes, dammit, I surrender."

  "Very wise, Commandant. Here's what you will do. You will stand down and have your people go about their normal business within the habitat. You will not send any messages out, and you will not respond to any messages sent to you, except for the ones that come from us on this frequency. No one will attempt to leave the base, and no one will attempt to fire at us. A violation of these rules will result in a spread of three fusion torpedoes being fired against the habitat. I destroyed Raider One, and I won't hesitate to destroy this base also."

  With both surprise and awe in his voice, Bacheer said, "You–– you're Carver!"

  "Yes, I'm Carver. I'm Commander Jenetta Carver, captain of the GSC Colorado. If you've spoken to the captain of the destroyer that happened across us in space, you're probably aware that this ship is practically indestructible. He fired his laser arrays at us point blank six times and didn't knick the surface. That was after his space tugs failed to cut their way in with plasma torches. We watched the efforts from our bridge. It was most amusing. But even though this ship is practically indestructible, I won't tolerate any resistance. Is that clear?"

  "Yes."

  "Very good. Now, recall your workers from your salvage area and other work areas, and summon all your people from the remaining ships. Then clear the docks and seal your airlocks so that no one will be injured when we destroy the remaining vessels. You're all going to enjoy a nice long holiday until the rest of our task force gets here."

  "You're not part of any task force. We'd know if one was operating in our territory."

  "Just like you knew that you were towing an occupied, armed, GSC warship into your base?"

  Commandant Bacheer just scowled in reply.

  "I'm serious about destroying the habitat, Commandant," Jenetta said calmly. "Don't make me prove it. You know who I am, and my reputation should speak for itself. After you've issued the orders to your people, get into a shuttle and come visit me. I'll have a lunch prepared. I'll expect you in thirty minutes. Oh, and bring two of your security runabouts with you. Carver, out."

  The com operator alertly cut off the transmission upon receiving a signal from Jenetta, and the view from the bow returned to the main screen. Jenetta turned to the crewman at the tactical control station. "Keep an active torpedo target lock on the habitat, so they know we're serious, but don't fire unless you're ordered to do so by the watch officer."

  "Aye, Captain."

  "Com, summon the senior officers to conference room 6-12-2-Quebec."

  "Aye, Captain," the com officer replied, his fingers already keying the instruction that would broadcast the message to the CT's of all senior officers.

  Jenetta walked directly to the conference room and was joined there in minutes by Lt. Cmdr. Pulsen, Lt. Cmdr. Cameron, Lt. Kerrey, Lt. Matthews, Lt. Doran, and Marine Lieutenant Leese.

  "Okay," Jenetta said grinning calmly, "we've neutralized a Raider base, but we've got a tiger by the tail and we don't dare let go lest it turn and rip us apart. I'm not sure how long it will be before our first help gets here, so we're going to have to stay alert. We know that it will be months before Prometheus arrives, but the timing wasn't our choice. If we had tipped our hand out in space, the Raiders might have stood off and used us for target practice as they zipped around us. Our problem now is how to play prison guard where the prisoners are all armed and dangerous and in control of the jail. We mustn't let the Raiders know that we're not fully functional, nor how long it will take for support to arrive. Not knowing when our support ships are arriving, will keep them off balance."

  "Captain, they must have several thousand men and women in that habitat," Commander Pulsen said. "How can we possibly control them?"

  "That count might actually be much higher, judging from the number of number of ships in port and their configurations. And based on the amount of activity in the reclamation area, I'd say that it's early in their workday, so relatively few people were probably aboard ship. Our only effective means of control is the torpedoes that we have aimed at them. They must believe, without question, that I won't hesitate to use them. We also have to keep them out of the ships remaining at the airlocks. At the first sign of movement by one of those ships, I want our laser gunners to target it and evacuate its atmosphere. We use torpedoes only as a last resort. Now, I want each of you to think like a Raider, and tell me what action you'd take to break out or gain control, so that we can defend against it."

  "I'd bail, no matter what anyone said, if I was a Raider," Lieutenant Leese offered. "I wouldn't care about the rest of the people in the habitat."

  "Knowing that Space Command was guarding the only exit?"

  "I'd create a diversion."

  "What type?"

  "I don't know. Anything to pull the guard off station."

  "Okay. What could they do to pull us away from the entrance?"

  "Blow something up so that we'd have to investigate," Lieutenant Kerrey offered.

  "Then we can't afford to be drawn away by explosions under any circumstances. What else?"

  "I think that they'll try to get a message out to whatever ships operate from this base," Lieutenant Commander Pulsen said.

  "We're listening on all IDS frequencies so we'll know if they try to send a message."

  "Maybe we should jam all the frequencies instead," Lieutenant Doran offer
ed.

  "But then we'd be deaf and dumb as well. Jamming the band prevents us from receiving messages from Space Command or our approaching ships. We don't have a relay satellite on board. That's another thing I'm going to recommend that this ship have as part of its standard equipment."

  Jenetta held up her hand to signal that she was receiving message in her CT. She was notified that a shuttle and two smaller ships were headed towards the Colorado.

  "I'm sorry to interrupt this meeting, but our visitors are approaching. Lieutenant Leese, I'll need you and your Marines to keep an eye on our visitors. Check them for weapons, and hold everyone, except the base commandant, in or near the flight bay. The commandant should be brought to me in the officer's mess, under guard. Assign a team to immediately examine the shuttle and security runabouts for explosive charges. Lieutenant Doran, would you come with me, please? Everyone else, keep working on our problem. We'll resume after our visitors depart."

  Marine Lieutenant Leese headed for the flight bay, issuing orders through her CT as she walked, while Jenetta and the doctor talked in the corridor for a minute. The doctor then rushed off to sick bay, as Jenetta hurried to her briefing room, before going to the officer's mess.

  The commandant of the Raider base was escorted to the officer's mess after being thoroughly checked for weapons. Marine Lieutenant Leese and three Space Marines followed him in, then stood a meter away.

  "Come in, Bacheer," Jenetta said from where she was sitting. "Have a seat. Lunch will be ready shortly."

  "You don't take any chances," Bacheer said, nodding towards the Marines while his eyes remained locked on Jenetta's.

  "There's nothing to be gained by giving you an opportunity to attack me, but I don't need the security detail if it bothers you." Looking at the Marine officer, she said, "You may wait in the corridor, Lieutenant." To the commandant, she said, "Sit down, Bacheer. We have a lot to discuss."

  "You're as nervy as I heard," Bacheer said as he sat down. "Coming into this spaceport with just this one tiny ship shows that you have more guts than sense. Now you send your guards out of the room."

  "Do I have more guts than sense? I have an armed warship that's almost indestructible. Did you talk to the captain that tried to board us in open space?"

  "I did. He confirmed what you say, just before his own men killed him for bringing you in here."

  "I'm surprised. I would have thought that you'd exercise better control over your troops. Perhaps you're not the effective leader that I was expecting."

  "Who said they were out of control?"

  "I see. So you ordered his death?"

  "I allowed it. The fool shouldn't have brought you in here. If he couldn't crack this ship open, he should have left you alone."

  "And would you have left such a prize as this floating in space? An apparently derelict ship that resisted all your weapons and attempts to board it? A ship that could redefine the defenses of the Raider organization? You'd have just flown off and left it there for someone else to find and use? Your hindsight is unusually blurry."

  Bacheer scowled. Trying to change the subject, he said, "I suppose you expect me to play warden for you now?"

  "No, I expect you to be a model administrator, and I expect you to keep your people in line. You see, we can't handle a mass revolt. You probably outnumber us, oh–– thirty to one. Our only option is to destroy the habitat, killing everyone inside. We can't allow your people to escape, so we will exercise that option if you make it necessary."

  "And what if I exercise my option to break your neck?" Bacheer growled, starting to rise from his seat.

  The two large, black cats immediately stood up, bared glistening fangs, and snarled ominously. Bacheer's full attention had been directed at Jenetta, and he hadn't noticed them sitting quietly against the wall just a dozen feet away. He froze halfway up as the cats prepared to spring.

  "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, Commandant, but in this case I don't have to. My pets would shred you into small, bloody, edible pieces before you could reach me, even though we're just a meter apart. I suggest that you smile and sit down v-e-r-y slowly, and don't make any sudden moves again. Also, you'd better talk calmly from now on. You've already identified yourself to them as a threat."

  Bacheer forced a smile and did indeed sit back down v-e-r-y slowly. The cats relaxed their posture when he was seated again, but didn't lie back down.

  The officer's mess attendant further calmed the situation when he carried two plates of food over and set them down in front of Jenetta and Bacheer.

  "Thank you, Ernest," Jenetta said. "Bring us a bottle of wine. Red, please."

  "Would you care to trade plates with me, Captain?" Bacheer asked, keeping his voice very calm.

  "The portions of food are identical, Bacheer, and you may have seconds if you wish."

  "That's not what I was thinking."

  Jenetta looked at him for a couple of seconds and smiled. "You think that I poisoned your food?"

  "Not poison, perhaps just a truth drug."

  "You don't really think that I'd do that, do you?"

  "Why not? I would, in your place."

  Jenetta gestured towards the plates. "Feel free to take whichever plate you like."

  Bacheer looked at her for a second. "No, you gave in too easily. You might have doctored your own plate figuring that I'd demand a swap."

  Jenetta smiled again and sighed. "I'm hungry, Bacheer. Pick whatever plate you like and I'll take the other. I have a runaway appetite and I'd like to have my lunch."

  Bacheer swapped the plates, looking Jenetta in the eyes as he did. Jenetta waited a few seconds and then cut into the chicken breast cutlet. Bacheer waited a few more seconds and then started eating also.

  "If I had wanted to drug you, Bacheer, I could have simply had you held down and had the drug administered."

  "True, but then I'd know that I'd been drugged."

  "But you still would have told me everything that I want to know. I don't want you drugged. I want you fully alert because your life and the lives of your people depend on it."

  The mess attendant brought a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, placing them in front of Bacheer and Jenetta. The bottle was placed on the table also.

  "You're welcome to swap glasses, if you wish, Bacheer."

  "Not necessary. I saw him pour both portions from the same bottle into clean, empty glasses." Bacheer took a sip of the wine. "You eat well, Captain, this is real wine from the Sebastian Colony. I didn't know that Space Command provided alcohol on board its ships."

  "Rank has its privileges. Most ships keep a small supply of spirits available for entertaining dignitaries. I'm sure that you would offer me a glass of wine, were I visiting you?"

  "Definitely. Drop over any time."

  Jenetta smiled. "Eventually. But not until our support ships arrive."

  "When will that be?"

  "Soon enough. I hope very soon for your sake."

  "My sake?"

  "Yes. You might be tempted to try something foolish with only one ship guarding the exit. Once the other ships arrive, you'll be more prudent."

  "Exactly what is this ship made of?" Bacheer asked.

  "A new composite material that's virtually indestructible."

  "The stuff that the door on Mawcett was made from?"

  "Very similar. I expect that the Tsgardi reported what they went through trying to enter the facility. They never succeeded, by the way."

  "I know. If you hadn't killed them near Raider Three, Mikel Arneu would have done it when he got his hands on them. When he learned that the Tsgardi had lost your clone, he raved and ranted for an hour."

  "It wasn't their fault. Tsgardi are renowned for their ferocity, not their intelligence."

  "Too true, but they do make effective minions for certain tasks. The chicken cutlet was excellent, Captain. Was it synthesized?"

  "Yes. It's almost impossible to taste the difference with some foods, chicken being one
of them. Have some more wine."

  Bacheer filled his glass and then held the bottle to Jenetta's glass. "Would you care for more?"

  "Just a half glass. I have a number of meetings today and I don't want to be falling asleep."

  Bacheer grinned. "I know that it won't affect you, Captain, and that you could drink me under the table without even getting a buzz. Mikel Arneu told me all about the recombinant DNA process that he performed on you and himself. I've seen him drink an entire fifth of Scotch at one sitting and not be affected in the slightest by it. He might as well have been drinking water."

  "You're unusually well informed."

  "Arneu was the commandant here until just a few weeks ago. I was his deputy, and we spent a lot of time talking. I must say that I approve of the body he fashioned for you."

  Jenetta ignored the remark. "Where's Arneu now?"

  "He went to set up a new research facility on Raider Ten. It's outside what you Spaccs call 'regulated space', and therefore beyond your reach. I don't know exactly where it's situated."

  "Sure you do, but I'm sure that you won't tell me."

  Bacheer smiled.

  "I'm going to need to hang onto your shuttle, Bacheer. And one of the security ships. I'm sorry that it's going to be a bit tight going back, but it's only a few minutes away so you won't be inconvenienced for long."

  Bacheer had stopped smiling. "Is that what this was all about? Getting your hands on one of our shuttles?"

  "No, I wanted to meet you, face to face. But I do need a shuttle since we don't have one on the ship. I guess that I'm killing two birds, so to speak." Jenetta paused when the expression on Bacheer's face changed. "That was not a reference to the food. I didn't poison you." Bacheer's face relaxed. "Are you going to be able to control your people, Bacheer, or will we be forced to use the torpedoes?"