by Casey Lea
Wing punched co-ordinates and the Bandit accelerated so fast that inertia damping was overwhelmed. Several gees loaded the crew and only their seat fields saved them from injury. Wing checked the pursuit and frowned. “It likely won’t be enough, sah. We’re seriously mismatched here.”
“Suggestions?”
Wing watched his projection of their pursuer and extrapolated the fleet ship’s course. He frowned again and then smiled. Despite its speed, the other ship was too far away to be sure of catching them before they made passage. Although it seemed to be chasing them, its course was not an intercept one. Instead, it was subtly angling toward a gas giant that lay between it and point.
Wing’s smile widened when he recognised the manoeuvre. He realized the kres leader was planning to slingshot from an orbit around the planet to gain added acceleration. The extra speed would enable him to pass his prey and engage them at passage. Good move, my friend, and most familiar.
“I’ve got a plan, sah, and if I’ve read the other leader correct, it should work. He’s going to catch us, but he’ll have to commit to an orbit and once he does that we can change our figures. He’s going around the far side of X-127.3 and when he does we start braking. Hard. He’ll slingshot out using gravity to pick up speed. If we slow down, he’ll shoot past out of range. No matter how large an un-lit matter braking field he deploys, he’s still certain-sure to overshoot. If we brake with all we have, he’ll travel past point before we come into range. He'll scream by and then we can nip in behind him, to make passage before he swings back.”
Greon looked unconvinced. “When he sees he’s going to miss us, he’ll take passage himself and wait for us at far end.”
“With the speed he’ll gain, he won't be able to make passage. No, he’ll swing back and pursue. Once we reach the far end, I know how to destroy him. I’ve worked this sector times-past, but we have to get through that passage first. What thoughts, sah?”
Greon stuck out his thick lower lip and his silver eyes glinted uncertainly. “I don’t like it. How do you know he’ll commit to this orbit? We could brake our way into a longer fight than needed. If we slow down and he fails to add speed, our ruse will turn to suicide.”
“He’ll commit, sah,” Wing answered urgently. “That’s his course, that’s his plan and it’s a good one. The course deviation is subtle and most pirates would never pick it. The kres leader knows that. He pretends to chase and we run, hoping for escape. Then the fleet ship disappears, feeding that hope, so we feel safe-as. We just keep pushing for escape, but then our kres reappear, blasting out of orbit and crippling us when they scream past. After that they can swing back to make a kill at leisure.”
Greon gave him an odd look. “You seem most sure of this.”
Wing held his face very still, hiding frustration, but much more importantly, his friendship with the enemy leader. “It’s logical, sah, and truly our only hope.”
Greon chewed his lip again and considered his options. He frowned at his Senior, but Wing returned the look calmly. “If we get through to the next system, you can destroy the kres?”
“Certain-sure.”
“A Noble class ship? They were the best in their day and still far outclass this tub. Yet you’re confident we can destroy them, Senior?”
“So I swear, sah.”
Greon lifted a finger curtly. “All right, do such.”
“Yes!” Wing swung back to his console. His mind and hands danced through star charts, laying vector lines and connecting bright images with strips of light. He positioned the two ships within a system display and ran his predictions. “They’ll be committed to orbit in forty-seven seconds. I want all power to our braking thrust and all unlit matter deployed exactly then.” Wing felt sweat on his brow, but ignored it. He leaned back with an appearance of unconcern and grinned at the other nest crew. “Anyone know a good joke that lasts about forty seconds?”
Several of the crew laughed and Greon grunted, but his eyes were cold as he watched his Senior. Wing felt the enmity in that gaze and had to hide a shudder. He turned back to his hologram and immersed himself in it. The fleet ship was accelerating hard, but edging further from the Bandit’s course.
“It looks good, sah. They’re going full power and on course for that gas giant. Their options window is closing... closing... gone. They’re committed to orbit. Brake now.”
Wing kept his voice deceptively calm. He knew that the other leader was very good indeed and would start braking as soon as he realized what the Bandit was doing. Without fully knowing the other ship’s capabilities, it was impossible to predict if it would be out of range by the time they reached passage point. He wondered whether Darsey was scared, but there was no time to spare a reassuring look.
“Well, Senior?”
“Ah... yes, sah. They’re coming around the planet now and they’re scorching. Their braking field’s out, but they’ve got too much inertia to slow quickly. They’re closer to point than us now. They’re starting to slow, but it’s not enough. They’ve cleared point! They’ve overshot!”
A spontaneous cheer erupted from the crew and even Greon smiled. The tension that had gripped the nest as firmly as a restraint field vanished. The officer posted at tactical leaned across to slap Wing’s back and the Bandit’s Senior laughed, shrugging a hand in response.
A strangled cry from the weeping DS startled them all. “They’re firing!” Hazleean shrieked.
Every eye locked on her projection and they watched the highlighted path of a missile blazing toward them. “Ignore it,” growled Greon. “He’s just hoping to get lucky.”
Their Leader’s mouth had just closed when the missile struck. It detonated beyond the hull, but the concussion was enough to overwhelm inertia damping and the energy released ripped through the defensive field. A huge hand seemed to seize the ship and shake it. The nest went black and then ruptured.
Wing struggled to focus on his fluctuating display, but the darkness seemed to be spreading inside his head. He struggled against his restraints, struggled to lift a hand, struggled for air… for breath… for thought… and slumped senseless, as helpless as the rest of the crew. Vital oxygen spiralled into darkness and the ship’s warm breath formed a frosty trail that twisted through space behind it.
29
Kill Them All
Nightwing groaned and tasted blood. His first conscious breath turned to a rasping cough, but he ignored it. He forced his eyes to focus and his brain to interpret the data floating before him. The projections sparked and flashed erratically, but their information could still be read. The Bandit was braking and remained online for passage. His eyes flicked to the point position and he cursed mentally.
It was coming fast and he had only minimal time to apply the requisite tension to open a passage. His shaking finger moved between the projected ship’s systems to initiate entry. The power logo rippled then cracked and a shock seared his hand. He took a shaky breath that hurt his throat before trying the connection again. A rasping voice briefly distracted him.
“If you fail to make passage, I’ll gut you, Nightwing.”
Wing continued the familiar movements and his voice was calm. “If I fail to make passage, we’re all dead.”
“I can still gut you first,” Greon promised, but Wing was no longer listening.
He tried for the third time to release exotic matter, targeting the point that would force the passage open. Another crackling surge stabbed his arm, but this time he persisted. He felt sweat on his upper lip, while his pulse surged, but his effort was rewarded.
A surge of exotic matter speared from the Bandit’s split nose to impale the passage, and Wing tried to relax. His hands were shaking and he needed them to be still. Light flared across the still-sealed singularity and streamed into space as the Bandit hurtled closer. The most delicate part of adjusting the passage was holding it open long enough for the ship to pass through, and Wing knew he would need all of his skill to maintain its integrity with a dam
aged vessel. He looked down at his trembling hands and grimaced. There was no more time.
Greon barked something that he ignored and the ship swept head-on into the singularity. Wing reached into his display without further hesitation. The familiar movements steadied his hands and he showed no doubt or indecision. He released the surge of power that split time and space. His mind and hands flew to make subtle adjustments and the black wall ahead exploded in a rainbow shower.
The ship drove through the coruscating colors to dive into a bright whirlpool, while Wing struggled to hold that pulsing passage away from its battered hull. His mind called up another display that was projected only to his left eye as they exited the system.
He watched the kres ship turn hard to sweep around behind them. Its quick response would leave little time to conceal his trap at the other end. Perhaps too little.
Wing’s attention shifted back to the point display, where space still blossomed with color. The brilliant passage closed around them and tightened until the Bandit’s containment field glowed red. That struggling shield was all that stood between the ruptured nest and the twisted space of a singularity.
Wing made a last supreme effort to hold the ship together with mind and hands while he forced it forward. The protective field shrank and pulsed higher in the spectrum, until it could barely be seen. Its ultraviolet sheen bulged inward beneath the mass of the passage and Wing stared at a stretched singularity only centimetres from his face. He watched the oil-on-water rainbows of an open passage with fascination and tensed, waiting for the field’s final collapse. However, the misshapen sleeve of energy held.
The Bandit shot from the passage and into darkness, expelled by an energy wave when the singularity squeezed shut and its rainbow throat collapsed. The ship hit the cold of deep space and its containment field regained transparency and shape. The Bandit’s hull cooled too and warning logos dimmed as it drifted into a different part of the galaxy.
“Yes,” Wing breathed, and jerked convulsively when a heavy hand clutched his shoulder.
Greon dragged himself across to hover at his Senior’s station. They watched silently as the streamers of light dispersed, fading to the darkness of a new system. The Bandit moved on sedately and Wing groaned with relief. Dying was never desirable, but being killed by his best friend’s ship would add a most unpleasant twist.
“Not bad,” Greon grunted, and pushed off against Wing to return to his seat. “One day you’ll fail me and I’ll get to kill you, but not today.” He smiled at Wing, but that manic expression did nothing to reassure his Senior. “Now, what’s the total of your plan? Tell me... how do we destroy them?”
30
Kill Them All Too
The Grace leapt from passage and Free watched closely while Clear scanned the new system at speed. Her display was empty of danger-tags and he relaxed.
“An ordinary binary system, sah. Seven planets, a dozen comets and our pirate limping for cover in a stellar cloud. He’s trying to make another point by edge-creeping around the system. I can follow his trail in, but I’ve lost his exact position. There’s too much interference.”
“Not a problem.” Free smiled briefly, trying hard not to show too many teeth. Kres officers weren’t supposed to enjoy battle, not even victory. He glanced at his Tactical Senior. “Drop a mine in case he tries to flee back, TS. Use ten percent of ship’s power for it. Yes, Gull, I know we won't regain that in time for this fight, but I want to block all retreat.”
“Of course, sah” his Senior growled, hovering behind tactical. “I remember the Arck’s order to kill all pirates. Mine deployed.”
“Good. Set a course for far point, NS, and make it quick. Take us straight through system and into range of far passage. I want to beat our pirate there, understood?”
“Yessah.” The officer turned to her display and traced their course with a finger, while mentally pulling full power to the engines.
The Grace leapt forward and the twin suns grew rapidly larger, but Free felt sudden fear. Not his own, but one of the crew’s. His fronds lifted and instantly found the source. Clear. He dropped his chair closer in time to see her shiver. “DS?”
She dropped her gaze and tapped her mouth nervously, but then looked up decisively. “Sah, something’s wrong.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. I just feel something’s wrong.”
Free was annoyed, but turned to the Nav Senior without hesitation. “Slow to point six. They still won’t outrun us. DS, I suggest you study your display until you can place your unease. You’ve noted something and I want to know exactly what.”
“Yessah,” Clear stared at her projected data while Free started at her. She seemed calm enough and only slight creases in her forehead hinted at any concern. She suddenly leaned forward in a wave of blonde hair. “It’s the orbits! Leader, the orbits are wrong for a binary system. They’re all misplaced, even the stars. Something else is affecting this system and it’s big. Super big. Whatever it is, it should show up. We should be able to see it and it should be right ahead of us.”
Free was hit by a surge of alarm. “Gods, it’s camouflaged. The pirate dropped a camouflage field.”
“But we could see him clear enough,” Gull protested, and Free shook his finger.
“No,” Clear explained before he could. “He didn't try to stay hid himself. He had to run and knew we’d track him. He left a field generator to hide something else.”
“What?” Free demanded urgently.
Clear swung back to her console and her braided hair floated around her, but before she could act her data stream vanished. It briefly projected new figures and then defaulted back to the old set as they neared the limits of the deception field. The ship sped on to push past the camouflage, and she gasped when she finally saw what was really there.
“Singularity plus!” Clear husked.
“Drak,” the Nav Senior swore in panic and even Gull paled. He swung to look at Free, but there was no time to do more than exchange horror.
The Leader dropped his chair and spun to face navigation, but before he could speak the Communication Senior cried out.
“In-talk, sah, with kres priority codes.”
Free looked up and finally failed to hide his shock when a projected message appeared in front of him. The crew forgot their horror too, amid a buzz of speculation, as an eerily familiar face filled the nest. The pirate hailing them was not only kres, but a kres who looked disturbingly like their Leader. He offered a sardonic smile and a mocking bow, while Gull spat a curse of recognition.
“Reputation precedes me,” the pirate observed, and grinned insolently at the fleet senior.
Gull started to retort, but Free raised a hand to silence him. The renegade kres bowed again, but this time the action seemed sincere.
“Thank you. We’ve no time to trade insults. That’s a magnitude ten black hole and yes, you’re running straight in.”
Free’s breath escaped as an angry hiss, but the pirate simply laughed.
“No need for panic, Leader. You’re a thousand megs from the final-horizon. Even if things get bumpy from the tidal forces, you won’t disappear for all-times. At least not for a few seconds more.”
A console flared red and warning lights appeared in displays around the nest. The ship kicked hard while its carbon hull groaned. “Relax,” the projected kres advised. “It's a rotating singularity and your ship will survive if you flow with that movement. Even if you're damaged, the fleet will certain-sure find you. You’re lit up like a Migration Parade.”
The ship shuddered and its navigation console displayed reference points that abruptly wheeled across the nest.
“You’re in the ergosphere,” Wing pointed out, “being pushed away from us. The lateral forces are impossible to resist, so just blast with them and you’ll burn free before the final-horizon traps you. I’m projecting a course and I suggest you act on it… now.” He grinned even more widely to hide the faintest tilt of his h
ead, a brief gesture of respect that only one member of the Grace’s crew expected. Free gave a brusque nod in return, but, even before his cousin’s projection disappeared, he turned his attention to navigation instead.
“Do it!” he ordered tersely. “Quick-as!”
His NS diverted Wing’s course from analysis and ran it without further hesitation. Her display wheeled above her once more when the ship heeled over and joined its power to the irresistible thrust of a rotating black hole. The fullerene hull vibrated and Clear shook with it.
“It’s all well,” Free said quietly. “The course is secured and plotted. This black hole is going to spit us out. Nothing gives a case of galactic indigestion like the Grace. You’ll be able to tell your children you blasted in and out of black holes and rode the dark tide.”
Free smiled confidently, although his eyes flicked sideways to check the stress of the tidal forces and their effect on his ship. It screeched in protest, but he relaxed and his smile became genuine. Their course was so tight it would have been useless with any delay, but it was enough to fling the Grace free. He glanced up at Clear again and she gave him a warm smile, although her eyes were huge in a pale face.
“Nice job,” Free mouthed, and the glitter returned to her cheeks. He looked away with a frown and paused to gather his thoughts. “I’ll be at rest. Collect our mine and take us back through passage. We’ll move on for a trap reset.” He raised a hand to peremptorily stop a comment from his Nav Senior. “I can see the hull damage. Limp back to passage and keep us intact.”
Free pushed from his seat with such force that he hurtled straight across the nest. He had a glimpse of startled faces gaping at him from every angle before he shot through his door field. He entered his quarters at speed and gravity reclaimed him roughly. He landed with jarring force.
