Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

  “What did you do?” Zurra accused, letting him go.

  “I didn’t do anything! You wouldn’t even let me touch the controls, remember?”

  They ran up to the bridge, which was bathed in red emergency lighting, and the girls plugged themselves into the network. Gerald intentionally kept his hands in his pockets as he looked out the view screen. The stars slowly rotated before them as the ship listed lifelessly in space.

  “Where the trell are we?” Ilrica asked, bringing up the star charts.

  “About two million parns above the galactic axis,” Trahzi reported.

  “How did we get so far off course?” Gerald wondered.

  “Looks like the navigation beams got misaligned,” Ilrica diagnosed.

  How is that possible? There are six redundant systems in place to keep that from happening.

  “With Gerald, all things are possible,” Zurra quipped.

  “So, why have we stopped?” Gerald asked.

  “The fuel pumps have been operating in reverse,” Trahzi explained.

  How is that...?

  Ilrica held up her hand to cut her off. “Yes, we get it, princess.”

  Duchess.

  “So, we’ve been shunting fuel this whole time?” Zurra asked.

  The lights of the screens made Ilrica’s grey fur glow. “Yeah, we’ve lost so much that now we’re below critical mass.”

  “So, we cannot use the aether drive?” Gerald asked.

  “Not without more fuel, we can’t,” Ilrica explained.

  “But we have so many spare parts,” Trahzi reasoned

  “Spare parts, yes, spare fuel tanks, no.”

  Zurra threw her hands up. “Oh great, so the one thing we don’t have a backup for is the thing that failed!”

  Cha’Rolette folded her arms and closed her eyes. Well, don’t blame me. The fuel cells comprise a full half of the ship’s mass. If you had two sets of them, there wouldn’t be room for anything else.

  Zurra turned to glare at Gerald. “Sometimes I really hate you, Geri.”

  “Um... sorry?”

  Cha’Rolette leaned forward and rested her cheek in her hand. I’ll activate the beacon, looks like we’re going to be stuck out here until help arrives. This is so embarrassing.

  “I think I can get the maneuvering thrusters back online.”

  Gerald pointed at the view screen. “Well, what about those black ships? We can ask them for help.”

  “What black ships?” Zurra asked. “I got nothing on sensors. We’re the only ones out here.”

  Gerald stepped closer and pointed them out. “Yeah, they’re right there. You can see ‘em against the backdrop of the nebula.”

  Sure enough, there were about a dozen knife-shaped ships hanging in formation as specks in the distance. Already two of them were turning towards them. The girls looked at each other in concern.

  “Shadow tech!”

  “What? They can help us,” Gerald said.

  All the girls began working feverishly. The ship’s defensive systems breathed to life. Corridors were locked down and flooded with impact-absorbing foam, armor panels were energized, and weapon systems were readied.

  No, they are not here to help us, Gerald.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ilrica looked up. “Those are pirate ships.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It is often said that war is the result when diplomacy fails. This oversimplification assumes that any two powers in disagreement can be brought to a mutually acceptable compromise. The reality is that this is often impossible. Take the Narez, who believe that all other life must be forced bow down before their goddess Veelchan and worship her, or so they claim Veelchan demands. Veelchan herself has repeatedly been unavailable for comment. So the Narez invaded their neighbors, the Orgal, who believe that all must be free to worship whom or what they will. There can be no compromise between those two ideologies. Either the Narez must give up their belief that all must be forced to worship Veelchan, or the Orgal must give up their belief that all must be free. There cannot be a diplomatic middle ground, because none exists. The two ideologies are incompatible with one another, and so war was the inevitable result, and no amount of diplomacy would have changed that.

  - A Quick and Simple Guide to The Galaxy, page 65, Tongzen Press

  On the bridge of the Uragiri, Lyssandra Bal sat in a simple, uncushioned command chair. There was nothing pleasant about her ship. All amenities had been stripped away. If it didn’t make the ship go faster, shoot more, or defend itself better, it had no place. Even the bunkrooms were nothing more than racks of simple hammocks, packing the men and women in as tightly as sardines. [o22]The bridge itself was the center of a long single room that folded back along the length of the ship like an extended horseshoe. Along its length sat the pits that housed the gunnery crews, who manned the massive cannons that made this a true warship.

  Lyssandra’s second in command, a round-shouldered little man named Erusal, brought up her midday meal. A simple bowl with scraps of sour bread and unseasoned broth. While expensive liquor and meat were shared amongst the rest, she gnawed on the nearly tasteless morsels. Up until recently she had been eating a root vegetable called ixilir, because she found the flavor foul, but after a few months of it, she had begun to develop a taste for it, so she stopped eating it.

  As her men sang drunkenly, her glowing golden eyes remained fixed and unwavering on the view screen as stars whizzed by.

  “Mark,” she said sternly, and the ship came to a halt.

  It surprised everyone to see a battle going on. A dozen black corsairs were pursuing a dogged little alliance craft as it jinked and swerved about like a frightened little bird. Blue lances of particle energy stabbed out at the hopelessly outmatched little craft, but it fought on.

  “What is this?” Lyssandra demanded.

  The sensors officer plugged himself into his console. “Looks like some of the Garan Corsairs were here early, when an alliance ship stumbled onto them.”

  Lyssandra stood up, stretching the bandages on her neck and shoulder. “This is supposed to be a secret meeting, tell them to stop blarting around with that little thing and frag it before it manages to get a message out.”

  “General, identity beacon marks it as Alliance Military. It’s a diplomatic vessel.”

  Lyssandra was intrigued. “Really? Well, I guess there’s always time to collect a little treasure.”

  “Ma’am?” Erusal asked.

  “Don’t be stupid. A good hostage is worth a cargo hold of latinum, a hundred times that in political capital.” She turned back to the tactical officer. “Set all cannon to disruption mode only, tell the Garans to do the same.”

  * * *

  Inside the Kalia Greir, Gerald was thrown about as the ship ducked down, a particle beam cutting through space where they had been, only a second before.

  The ship groaned as it was struck in its side. Zurra’s station lost power, and she went to work engaging the backups.

  Port armor is running low on plates. They’re using energy disruptors now.

  Ilrica fought the controls, snaking the ship about upside down, then speeding upwards again, narrowly avoiding a collision with one of the black ships.

  As the ship jinked, Gerald was thrown against the bulkhead with a deep thud.

  “Ugh, this is not nearly as fun as they make it seem in the movies,” he grunted.

  “Dyson, what are you doing?” Ilrica asked coolly. “Activate your restraints.”

  Gerald sat up and noticed the rune flashing before him in standard. “Oh, I didn’t realize we had seatbelts.”

  “Why wouldn’t a ship have combat restraints?” Zurra asked.

  “Well, it’s just that in the movies... um, never mind.”

  Gerald tapped the rune just as they were hit. The whole panel sparked and the restraints shot out, wrapping him from head to toe like a mummy.

  “Oh, yes, this is much better,” he muffled. Cadbury l
anded on his head and began pecking at his hair.

  Another explosion rocked the ship, and they corkscrewed wildly.

  “I can’t get a message out,” Zurra said as her station came back to life. “They’re jamming all channels.”

  I’m on it. Cha’Rolette placed her fingers on the side of her temples and her ta’atu uncurled themselves. They fanned straight out, glowing so brightly they filled the entire bridge with an ethereal light.

  “Wow,” Zurra said, yelling over the noise. “Can you actually contact people this far away telepathically?”

  Cha’Rolette strained, sweat forming on her brow. I can when I don’t have toilet monsters screaming in my ears.

  “Don’t call me that!” Zurra yelled.

  There was another explosion. For a moment, the air blew out of the cabin, before the crack was sealed with foam. Gerald yelped with pain as one of his eardrums burst.

  “Why have we stopped returning fire?” Ilrica asked coolly as she brought the ship to a halt, then shot straight down in between two of the black ships, confounding their gunner’s attempts to track them.

  They looked over at Trahzi at the tactical station. She was frozen with fear and worry, her eyes trembling, her body shaking.

  “Trahzi, get back on the weapons,” Ilrica bade.

  Trahzi didn’t acknowledge her. As another blast hit the ship, she brought up her knees and curled up, tears forming in her black eyes.

  Trahzi! What is wrong with you?

  Another beam struck the Kalia Greir, and she began to slow, her movements becoming sluggish.

  They’re taking out our maneuvering thrusters.

  Ilrica unplugged herself. “Bah! Forget it. Zurra, take the helm.”

  In one massive leap, she jumped over to the other side of the bridge and picked up Zurra by the scruff of her neck. She tossed her like a snowball, and Zurra splatted against the pilot’s chair.

  “No problem, I got it,” she bubbled, as another blast rocked the ship.

  Ilrica drew out a cable and plugged herself into the communications desk.

  Cha’Rolette’s strength gave out and she leaned forward against her console, her ta’atu hanging limply. I think I got through.

  “Now we just have to stay alive till they get here,” Ilrica said as she prepared a special digital package.

  What’s the plan?

  Ilrica tapped her throat then coughed out a small device into her hand. Drawing out another cable, she plugged it into the device, then jacked in into a special second port on her neck. “Well, I figure in a second they’re going to call us and demand our surrender, right? Now, when they do that, you’re going to respond in English, Gerald...”

  “No problem,” he said through the restraints covering his mouth.

  “...and I’m going to use their translation software to spike their system with a virus and bring down their gellar field. After that it’s up to our resident telepath here.”

  Zurra zig-zagged the ship, but it was struck three more times, slowing it down to little more than a crawl.

  Ilrica’s hands flew across the controls as she looked up at Cha’Rolette. “You still got enough in ya for this?”

  Tch. You forget who you are talking to.

  Ilrica smiled. “Good. Zurra, bring us to a stop, but don’t engage the backups until the fireworks start.”

  “Fireworks?”

  “You’ll know it when you see it.”

  * * *

  A final blast hit the Kalia Greir as it came to a stop. The pirate ships swooped in around her like carrion, boarding tubes extending out like a sickly insect proboscis.

  “Alliance ship has been fully dampened,” the sensors officer reported.

  “Hail them,” Lyssandra said, leaning forward in her chair. As the window come up before her, she turned to Erusal. “This is always my favorite part,” she admitted.

  Some of the men and women laughed drunkenly.

  Gerald appeared on the screen, tossing off the last of the restraints. “This is Ensign...”

  A pink fist slugged him from off screen. “No, be cooler.”

  “...er, Captain Dyson, I guess, of the Alliance transport Kalia Greir. Your unauthorized attack against this vessel is an act of aggression that will not go unpunished.”

  Lyssandra’s eyes went wide. “Wait... it’s you?”

  Gerald pointed back at her. “It’s you!”

  Zurra poked her head on screen. “You know her?”

  “I mean... just in passing,” Gerald said.

  Lyssandra laughed. “We are more than acquaintances by now.” She pulled off her bandages, revealing a deep scar running from her ear down to her collar bone. “After all, you are the one who gave me this.”

  Zurra crinkled her nose. “When did you do that?”

  All eyes were fixed on the view screen as Gerald and Lyssandra spoke. No one noticed when the security officer slumped over, his mind sliced into through his crystronic connection with the ship’s network. Nor did anyone recognize when the runes on his console shifted, indicating the ship’s protection against psychic attack had just been deactivated.

  * * *

  Ilrica wiped the blood from her nose and held up her fist, giving the go signal. Cha’Rolette nodded and floated over to a porthole, looking out at the lead pirate vessel circling them. Placing her hand against the glass, she closed her eyes and her ta’atu glowed brightly.

  * * *

  Back on the Uragiri, Lyssandra threw her head back, savoring the moment. “You know, I can’t recall the last time any man dared wound my flesh. I’m going to make you my special project, Gerald Dyson.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good thing,” Gerald quipped.

  She leaned forward, twirling her long segmented ponytail in her fingers. “Tell me, Captain Dyson. Do you know what happens to a human when they are exposed to concentrated aether?”

  “Now, how would I know that?”

  Lyssandra chuckled. “You will soon. The first thing that happens...”

  Unnoticed by the rest of the bridge crew, the sergeant in the first starboard gunnery pit, was silently fighting an unseen force that was overtaking his mind. His eyes bulged in fear, his hands clutched the sides of his head. He tried to scream, but his lungs and throat wouldn’t obey him. Struggling against his own muscles, he looked on in terror as his hands reached out, unbidden, and gripped the controls. As he trembled, the cannon slowly tracked, until it was pointing directly at the nearest corsair vessel. Sweat rolled down his face as he watched himself ramp the gun up to its maximum setting.

  One by one, the gunnery crews came under Cha’Rolette’s control.

  “...and that is just the first five minutes,” Lyssandra finished her gruesome tale.

  Gerald swallowed hard. “That was surprisingly effective. I’m truly intimidated.”

  The Uragiri kicked back as all twelve of her naval grade particle cannons fired in unison at the corsair directly ahead. For just a moment, the pirate ship buckled, then snapped in half, molten metal and atmosphere spewing out into the void. The aether drive ignited, and the ship exploded in a catastrophic fireball, consuming it and the ship next to it.

  “What the brekk was that?!” Lyssandra yelled, fighting to stay on her feet.

  * * *

  “Backups engaged!” Zurra yelled out, proud of herself.

  “Go! Go! Go! Go!” Ilrica yelled.

  Jets ignited and the stricken Kalia Greir swam away from the boarding tubes just as the Uragiri fired a second volley into another corsair ship, gutting it from stem to stern.

  The corsairs were stunned, unsure of what to do as they watched as another of their own ships exploded into an expanding sphere of fire and debris. Their hesitation to fire on one of their own cost them dearly. As the Kalia Greir became little more than a silvery speck in the distance, the Uragiri fired again, raking across the deck of a fourth corsair and reducing her command section to slag.

  Now outraged at the apparent treachery,
the remaining corsairs opened fire. The Uragiri was throttled from all sides, her layers of armor panels stripped away by relentless and outraged pirates.

  * * *

  Completely spent, Cha’Rolette collapsed backwards. Gerald ran up and caught her in his arms. “You’re incredible,” he praised as he looked at her, unable to believe what she had just accomplished.

  She cracked an eye open weakly. You only just now noticed?

  “Hey! I helped too,” Zurra yelled from the pilot’s chair. “Praise me too.”

  * * *

  The last of the Uragiri’s guns went silent as Lyssandra stood over the dead body of its gunnery sergeant, resheathing her bloody sword. “Get on their tail,” she barked. “Tell Captain Yhuvot if he fires at me again I’ll have his head, and bring the frakkin gellar field back up!”

  It only took a few minutes for the remaining pirate ships to cease their squabbling and chase off after the Kalia Greir. With their aether drives intact, they were on top of her almost instantly.

  * * *

  Everyone on the bridge was thrown against their restraints as the Kalia Greir was slammed from behind. Warning lights and klaxons went off. Schematics appeared, showing the section of the hull that had been torn away.

  “Darn, I’d hoped their little civil war might have lasted longer,” Ilrica said as she shuffled the remaining armor plates. They slid like living scales along the exterior of the ship, gathering around the remaining thrusters to protect them.

  No disruption mode this time, they’re out for blood.

  Another hit rang out. Trahzi yelped in fear, covering her ears and closing her eyes like a frightened child.

  One corsair came up on their port side, a second on their starboard. Their armored turrets swiveled, the barrels pointed directly at the bridge.

  A mighty volley sang out, and white-hot particle beams tore into the pirate ships, destroying them.

  “Where did that come from?” Gerald asked.

  Zurra smiled and pointed ahead. “Look.”

  An Alliance attack squadron sped right past them. A dozen destroyers backed up by three cruisers. Already they were sending volleys of missiles and lances into the remaining pirate ships.