by Erik Wecks
Violet angrily threw down her heads-up and sat back. “I can’t figure any way around it. They’re up well and we have no room to maneuver if we want to hit the gate. They have us.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you thought to deploy that real-time sensor when we entered the system, or we wouldn’t have even known they were coming. At least we had that advantage.”
“Never trust a Timcree to be wholly honest with a human.”
Jo thought that Soren looked uncomfortable. “That’s a really broad brush, Vi.”
“Yeah, well, it’s still good advice.”
For a minute, all three women in the cockpit sat quietly, Jo trying to help her confused mind keep up. She was beginning to remember things. A surprising amount of the conversation between Violet and Soren had made sense.
She even had a vague sense that she didn’t like the way that Vi was talking about the Timcree.
With a chirp, the computer let them know that it had acquired one of the three vessels on the ship’s camera. It popped the image into a call-out box attached to one of the oncoming vessels.
Violet sat up straight. “That’s definitely Timcree. The computer counts four strikers and a single railgun. It’s also saying that one of the unknown modules attached to the hull might be a launch tube.”
Jo spoke before she thought. “It’s not. It’s a plasma torch similar to those on the big ‘stroid miners.”
Violet sounded incredulous. “A what? What’s that supposed to do?”
“They use it to cut open ships in close combat.”
The pilot’s mouth dropped open.
Soren called Vi back to reality. “Settlements? Nearby ships? Anyone we could raise to make sure they’re watching? The Timcree are less likely to be hostile if they know they’ll get caught.”
Violet chuckled mirthlessly. She sounded bitter. “Nope. Kolas and his folks are already off our scopes. There’s no one out there. That’s why we came here in the first place, remember? Kolas insisted on it.”
That name, it’s supposed to mean something.
The com started to ping. Someone wanted to talk.
Soren turned to Jo. “Since these are Timcree ships, I want to be able to deny that you’re aboard. So I can’t have you on that.” She pointed up at the camera above the cockpit screen.
Having understood what was needed from her, Jo stood and walked to the back of the cabin, where she wouldn’t be seen.
Soren answered the hail.
A Timcree that Jo recognized came on the screen. He had once fought with another Timcree named … Kolas. Kolas had captained the ship that had taken her to the Timcree home … Korg Haran. Jo let out a noisy breath, and her shoulders relaxed as this single factoid sunk into place.
Since they were still nearly a light minute apart, the message was recorded. The Timcree gave no greeting but spoke in halting English. “You have Timcree prisoner on ship. She is owed us by treaty. Please allow us to dock your vessel for transfer. If you do not comply, we will fire.”
Soren sighed. “Well, that was blunt even for a Timcree and not exactly to protocol, either. He should have offered to pay for the transfer. Either this Timcree doesn’t think much of his own soul, or he’s really pissed off about something.”
More of Jo’s time with the Timcree came back to her, including the face of a woman, a woman who gave birth to a stillborn child. As lost ideas and thoughts flooded her mind, she spoke on instinct. “He won’t care about protocol or besh. He blames me for the death of his child.”
Soren turned to look at Jo, who stood leaning against a bed that she had put down to sit on.
“His wife came to my clinic heavily pregnant. The baby’s brain had not developed. She knew. I know she knew. When the child was born, I was blamed for killing the child …”
Jo’s voice suddenly caught, and her eyes became wide. “I remember.” She sat back on the bed and put her head in her hands while she tried to sort through all the returning information. After a couple of long, slow breaths, she kept her eyes closed and said more strongly, “That’s why Tanith shot me with the stunner he got from you, Soren. That’s why he put me in the hibernation tank and then tried to get me away. There’s bad blood between this guy and Kolas’s clan. This guy never wanted me on Korg Haran. The day I arrived, he fought Kolas for bringing me there.”
Jo looked up to see Soren scowling at her from the co-pilot’s seat. “So we can’t assume he’s bluffing. If this is a clan feud, they’ll go a long way to do what they think is just.” She turned back to the viewscreen and stared blankly at the wall for a moment, then pushed the button to reply. “This is the Unity vessel Strident traveling in Unity space. I am the captain. To start, you have no jurisdiction here. Secondly, I am only carrying myself and two of my crew members. You have no right to board us, and we will not allow you to do so. Consider carefully what you do next; I have a hard connection to the authorities in the Tanzania system. Do anything rash, and I promise you that you will not leave this system alive, and such actions will bring disaster to your whole clan.” With that, she ended her message.
She looked over to her pilot with a grim shrug. “I guess if we’re going to play a game of chicken, I might as well bluff, too. It’s time to see exactly what kind of a mess we’re in.” She reached across the panel and armed the ship’s gun. The computer ran a short graphical systems check on what Jo recognized to be a small-caliber, high-velocity railgun.
Violet shook her head. “I don’t think they’re bluffing.”
“You’re probably right, so I want the computer continuously plotting the best possible way to avoid this conflict.”
“Sir, if we miss the gate and our rendezvous with the Clarion …”
Soren finished the sentence for her pilot. “Then we send out a mayday and wait for someone else to come along and pick us up, but at least we live to fight another day.”
At first, Violet didn’t answer, her eyes steady on her captain. Then she spoke quietly. “Yes, sir.” Violet gave a furtive look toward Jo and spoke again. “Well, we could open that line to Tanzania.”
Soren answered quickly. “That’s not an option. It won’t look good for any of us if the Unity catches us with an unregistered on board. You don’t want a people-smuggling charge on your employment record, do you? That’s assuming you would live to have it put on your record.”
Vi didn’t answer, and for a minute, the cockpit fell silent.
A whoop from the computer cut through the quiet. Violet seemed to sit up stick straight. “They’re arming weapons, sir, and they’re tracking. They’ve locked on us.”
Soren leaned toward the viewscreen. “Damn!”
She turned to Jo, who was still sitting on the bed. “Do the Timcree use smart weapons?”
Jo shook her head, feeling her adrenaline begin to flow. Once again, she stood and came forward to a seat in the cockpit. “On their ships? Not that I know of, but who knows? I saw them use a really weird but effective kind of ammunition once, fired from a fletch gun, but anything expensive, like AI-driven ship ammunition, is probably out of their price range.”
“So once they fire, they won’t be able to recall?”
“Most likely.”
Soren gritted her teeth. “Damn it to hell!” Turning to Vi, she said, “Can you make for that asteroid?”
“Not if we want to meet the Clarion.”
“Do it! We need a place to get out of the way.”
Violet had just started inputting commands into the computer with her heads-up when Soren shouted again. “Belay that order! I have another ship appearing on our scopes. It must have come off that rock.”
The computer turned its attention to the newcomer, adjusting one of the boat’s cameras to find it. Soon it chirped its success. Before anyone had time to speak, Commander Kolas appeared on the screen, scowling, hands on his hips, legs apart.
On seeing Kolas, more of Jo’s memories came rolling back, wave after wave of her time with the Timcree. Jo closed
her eyes as simple shock caused tears to roll down her cheeks.
Kolas spoke in a rapid, clipped manner that Jo knew he reserved for his most angry moments. “Faron clan, this is the Kolas clan. You will return with us at once to Korg Haran, where our differences may be decided there, between us as Kree. These Gravlanders have nothing to do with our disagreement.”
Eyes still closed, Jo heard Violet shift in her seat. “What did he say? He’s armed his weapons, sir. He’s carrying a Class 2 terrawatt laser cutter and two KR-50 railguns.”
Soren answered her pilot’s question. “I don’t know what he said.”
It was only then that Jo realized that Kolas had been speaking Kree, and that she had understood him. “He told the other ships—the Faron clan—that they should stand down and fight with him on Korg Haran.”
Voice nearing panic, Violet answered while she busied herself with the board. “Well, they didn’t listen. They’re still armed and charging. Captain?”
Soren twisted in her seat toward Jo. “Is he a match for the Faron ships?”
Jo took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to assimilate herself into her own past. “Maybe. Maybe not. His weapons are far better than theirs, but he can’t aim everywhere at once. If we join him, it might be an even fight …” Then realizing the implications of her advice, she hastily added, “But that’s just a guess, Captain.”
Soren sat up straight. “Stay on course, Holmes, we’re not done yet. And lock on to the nearest ship. If we end up in a fight, I want to make sure that we’ve divided up the enemy properly between the two of us. Make sure we’re broadcasting our tactical on a tight beam straight at Kolas. Also, see if you can start sharing AI information with his ship. It will make a huge difference if the two of them can talk during the fight.”
Josephine shook her head. “They won’t know what to do with the tight beam. They might not even know you’re sending it, and unless your AI is much older than I think, you won’t even be able to talk with their ship. They’re using a Nostradamus Mark 4, unless Kolas has upgraded since I was last on board.”
Soren’s eyes widened. “A Nostradamus? Really? I knew they were backward, but a two-hundred-year-old—”
“Weapons going hot! They’re firing! Railguns firing! Two of the Faron ships are firing!”
“Keep us alive, Vi! Screw the rendezvous. Get us to that asteroid. Preparing to return fire!”
The boat shuddered under Jo as the pilot worked to keep it out of harm’s way using her heads-up. Soren turned her attention to the viewscreen, enhancing the view of one of the attacking vessels. She targeted the engine and was preparing to return fire when she hesitated. “Are they only attacking Kolas’s ship?”
Violet maintained her furrowed brow. “So far. Kolas was closer than we were and was in a pretty good tactical position.”
“Damn!” Soren groaned. “I can’t fire on them unless they fire on us.”
“Well, we may not have much longer to wait. We’re entering their optimal firing range now. If things don’t change, we’ll be right in range of those cutting torches before too— They’re coming around, Captain. The lead ship is coming toward us, leaving the other two to take on Kolas!”
“I see it! Let me know as soon as he fires.”
Vi leaned in toward the console. “I don’t think he’s going to. I think he wants to use the torch.”
Soren sat back, tenting her hands around her sharp nose. “He’s not stupid. He knows that if he fires now, we’ll take him out, but if he gets in close, we don’t stand a chance with that torch. So what do I do? The law says I can’t fire until fired upon, but we won’t last more than a few seconds against that cutter.” For a moment, she sat silent. Then without taking her eyes off the board, she asked Violet, “How’s Kolas doing?”
Violet sounded surprised. “Great, actually. He’s handling them well. One of the Faron ships is barely able to return fire at this point.”
Soren scowled. “I was afraid of that. Faron sacrificed the other ships to get at us. He intends to take us out. We’re the prize.”
Jo’s stomach turned cold. “He’s trying to save face with the tribe. He can’t let me get away, or there’s no way to pay me back for what he believes I took from him. He’ll be polluted by a Gravlander with no way out.”
“Keep us away from him, Vi!”
Violet leaned into the controls. “I’ll try, but he’s running right at us, and he’s got a serious acceleration advantage!”
Jo watched in horror as the Faron ship countered their every move.
Vi slumped back from the controls. “Damn it! He’ll be in range in a minute. We’re dead.”
Soren dropped her heads-up over her eye. “Screw the rules. I don’t feel like dying today just to say that I obeyed the rules. I’m targeting the torch! Maybe we can shear it off!”
Soren flipped one of two bright red switches on the control console of the vessel.
“Weapon is hot! Firing!”
It surprised Jo that she could hear the rattle of the railgun. The sound was more buzz than a distinct rat-a-tat.
The three women watched the board and waited. Jo leaned forward between the other two. The first shots passed wide to the starboard vessel.
Jo let out an audible groan.
Then the vessel seemed to drift directly into the path of the ammunition. A bright spray of shards erupted from the rusting, beaten-down ship. Within a few seconds, it was clear that the shots had missed the cutting torch.
Under her breath, Soren whispered a quiet, “Damn.”
Jo pointed. “Look.”
The Timcree vessel was clearly venting atmosphere, and not a small amount, either.
Soren sounded unhappy. “We tore her open. That’s the worst case.”
The cobbled-together Timcree vessel put its fragility on display. A large panel fell off, opening a gaping hole in her side. Jo watched in growing horror as a Timcree body drifted into the void. Her engines shut down seconds later.
A quiet moodiness descended on the cockpit, a silent respect for the horror they had just created on the other vessel.
A little while later, Violet broke the silence with a voice barely above a whisper. “We’re by her, Captain.”
Without taking her eyes off the screen, Soren nodded. “What about the other two?”
“Kolas has already handled those and is reducing his speed to turn toward the gate. It’s going to be tight, but Strident’s still on course for our rendezvous with the Clarion.”
“Very well. Standing down.” The captain reached forward and flipped down the red switch, returning the gun to its ready position.
Much to Jo’s disappointment, Kolas never communicated directly with the Strident, and Jo watched in silent sadness as her last connection to the Timcree slipped through the automated gate and disappeared.
Three days after their escape from the Timcree ships, Jo shared a meal with Soren and Violet at a small hovering table that had been detached from the wall near the food plant. Three cockpit chairs floated around it.
Jo had little to do on the ship’s boat. As a person without a valid Unity identification, she couldn’t even plug in to the intranet. For the other two women, the immersive online world provided an adequate, if somewhat sedentary, means of escape.
After seventy-two hours, Jo felt hopeless. As she thought about her life, it felt like every fiber of the universe had been aligned against her since birth, as if the spin of every quark was predetermined to oppose her desires. She hadn’t asked for her parents to be killed. She hadn’t created the war that turned her into a fugitive. She hadn’t wanted to become a military doctor, and she hadn’t created the stupid Timcree taboos that had destroyed her chance there, either. She felt hollow and brittle, like a piece of decking that had corroded from the inside. It looked all right on the surface but collapsed as soon as someone stepped on it.
Jo knew she needed some time off to get her head straight, but even in her need, the universe seem
ed indifferent at best. She had no job, no prospects, and no papers. It wasn’t exactly easy to find any recovery time when you needed to feed yourself.
As if reading her dark thoughts, Soren stopped mid-bite and said, “We’ll rendezvous soon with the Clarion. We’ll be on Tortuga in a few days. What do you plan to do then?”
Jo swallowed slowly before she answered. “I’m really not sure. I’ve lost all my things, including my way home.”
Soren smiled as she spoke between mouthfuls. “I have your heads-up and a few other items. I assume that was issued by the Ghost Fleet?”
Jo’s head jerked up. She sat silently for a moment while she let her powdered butter melt. Knowing that the heads-up wasn’t lost complicated matters that had moments before seemed relatively straightforward. She’d been sent to help the Timcree with the plague. That threat had diminished to a minor annoyance months ago. At any point in time, she could have called it quits and gone back, but she had held on, not willing to give up on her attempts to integrate herself into Timcree culture.
Now … Now she didn’t really have an excuse. She could simply use a few nanites to reactivate her subcutaneous chip and go back, but that thought galled her. First, there would be hell to pay for her tampering with the chip, and then where would she be? She’d end up right back in the horrible system that she already couldn’t stand. The spark of hope flashed out before it could shed any light. “Well, I’m not sure I really want to go back. I hated the military.”
Soren cocked her head and gave Violet a sideways look, then asked, “Why?”
Jo’s chest tightened. “I didn’t fit. I couldn’t think, and running and hiding wasn’t exactly how I wanted to live my life. The fleet has to stay hidden until the time is right, and that’s not what I want to do.”
Violet glanced at Soren and gave a quick half smile that Soren didn’t acknowledge.
The captain continued. “Well, Tortuga isn’t exactly a place to wander around with nothing to do. People without a plan tend to fall prey to Chapman and people like him. You aren’t going to find too many difference-makers on that rock.”
