IT WAS A WOMAN. SHE WAS JAPANESE.
‘What?’ Bird exclaimed in shock. ‘A woman did all of that? She must be one hard bitch! It felt like a freight train slamming into me when she drop-kicked me. I’ve never met any lass in training who could floor me like that.’
ASSASSIN!!!!
There was a long silence as Bird contemplated the number of exclamation marks that Trenchard had typed after the single word.
‘The question is,’ Bird said eventually in a hushed tone, ‘why did she leave both of us alive when she could easily have finished us off?’
There was an uncomfortable silence for a long moment. Bird clearly had something else on his mind. He stared at Trenchard and took a deep breath.
‘There’s something else that I need to tell you mate. It’s about Lorna…’
Suddenly, a dark shape loomed over Trenchard’s bed. In a flash, a thin silver object sliced through the air. Bird sat still for a moment with a face full of shock, before the top of his head slid slowly to one side and fell to the floor, cut through cleanly just above the nose. As Bird’s body toppled to the floor spraying blood over the pristine white sheets, the dark shape loomed over Trenchard, crawling up his bed like a huge black spider. Trenchard couldn’t scream, he couldn’t even move. He stared in terror at the black clad figure that was crawling up the bed towards him. The spider-like figure stopped and inch from his face and cocked its head to one side quizzically. Then it spoke, the voice feminine but steely, with a slight Japanese lilt.
‘You wanted to know why I didn’t kill you?’ it hissed. ‘…because I wanted to save you for later of course. Catch you next time!’
The figure raised the small sword high into the air and then brought it scything down towards Trenchard’s wildly staring eyeballs.
Trenchard awoke with a start for the second time. He was sweating and breathing heavily. He looked about him at the small bunk room that he had been allotted aboard the Breath of Vengeance. There were no shadowy figures poised with a sword to decapitate him. It was just another dream. As his heart began to slow down, he struggled into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and ran his hand over his sweaty shaven head and down his neck. He tried to rub away the cramps in his shoulder that he always got when sleeping in a new bed.
Why the hell was he dreaming about the assassin again? He hadn’t had nightmares like these since he was in the hospital on Mars. Perhaps it was seeing Bird again, stirring up old memories and emotions? Perhaps it was seeing the execution of the prisoners that he had delivered into the hands of the authorities? He stood up and walked over to the utilitarian steel wash-basin and filled the bowl with cold water. He bent down, splashed his face and felt the icy water wash away the terrors of the night. Then he straightened up, grabbed a towel and began to pat down his face. As he looked down at the white towel he noticed a spot of blood. Looking up into the mirror he saw that his neck scar had opened slightly in the night. It sometimes ripped where the scar had healed the skin too tightly. But it hadn’t done that for months now. He must have been tossing and turning all night long.
Wearily he began to pull on his uniform. There was no time to ponder on the meaning of the dream now, he had work to do. It was probably just one too many shots of dark rum with Bird last night in his cabin. He had a whole ship of new people to meet and a lot of new things to learn today. The woman in his dreams would have to wait. One day he would find out who she was and on that day, he would pay her back for the permanent scar she had given him and give her a few more of her own in return.
The asteroid belt spanned the view in every possible direction. Huge spinning lumps of iron and ice floated between even more massive dark foreboding mountains of cratered rock. Suddenly, the empty space on the edge of the belt was rent apart by the arrival of a massive object which was travelling many times faster than light. A whirling singularity stretched the fabric of space-time into eye-watering shapes. The magnificent hull of the Breath of Vengeance emerged gradually from the gaping maw in an unholy parody of birth. As the prow of the ship protruded into the void, it was surrounded by violent electrical bolts of bright blue and purple which arced and danced around the immense particle gathering tube. Once the whole ship had pushed through, the spinning singularity disappeared with a bright white flash of light and the Breath of Vengeance coasted gently to a full stop.
Inside the ship, Commander Trenchard was standing by an observation window looking out thoughtfully at the Might of Fortitude as he chewed on an unlit cigarette. The spacecraft was clamped to the side of the Breath of Vengeance by huge robotic arms. He absent-mindedly rubbed his shiny new dolphin badge with his right hand, thinking of Bird’s words the night before. How different could it be serving on one of these smaller ships, he thought to himself? There would still be the confined living quarters, the zero-gee sickness, the crap food and the short tempers. Life aboard any navy star-ship could be tough. He’d become used to it over the years and now he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Surely this couldn’t be too different?
Further thought was derailed as Captain Bird walked over to meet him, whistling a cheery shanty tune. Bird’s metal-soled boots made a loud clanking sound on the metal deck as he approached. Trenchard straightened and performed a cursory salute, which was waived away by Captain Bird. He stopped next to Trenchard, beside the many inches’ thick window and gazed lovingly across the vacuum towards his pristine new command.
The Might of Fortitude looked a little like a cold-war submarine. The main hull was torpedo shaped with a pointed nose cone at the front and a long, streamlined middle that tapered towards the main engine at the rear. Mounted slightly forward from half way were four “fins”; conning tower-like projections that were arranged in a cross at ninety degrees from each other. The Might was docked to the Breath of Vengeance by a hatch on the top of one of these fins. At the front, spaced evenly on the nose cone, were four rocket torpedo missile tubes and the dark, metallic blue hull was dotted with several fearsome plasma cannons and mass driver turrets.
Trenchard looked on in admiration, always one to appreciate a well-constructed vessel. ‘She’s a fine ship Captain Bird,’ he said without taking his eyes off the spacecraft.
Bird nodded. ‘The Might and her three sisters are the best hunter-killers in the fleet,’ he said wistfully. She’s actually the original prototype and is equipped with the latest stealth shielding tiles and low emission magnetic fusion drive. She has a lot of little extras that none of the other Wolverines have. We’re field-testing her for High Command. If the new gadgets work well, then they’ll be rolled out to the rest of the Wolverines in the fleet.’
‘So, what’s the mission?’
Bird gestured broadly out of the window with his hand. ‘As you are no doubt aware, the asteroid belt is positioned between Mars and Jupiter. People generally think of it as a disc or hoop, but it’s more like a hollowed-out sphere. There are millions, perhaps billions of shards of iron and rock left over from the early days of the solar system.’
‘Yeah, I went to the lectures at the academy too,’ said Trenchard with a sneer. ‘You sound like our old tutor.’
‘Not only does the belt present a formidable practical barrier to space travel, it’s also the perfect hiding place for pirates. If they power down and sit still, it’s very hard to tell the difference between a pirate cruiser and a floating lump of iron. The pirates hide out here between the asteroids and launch surprise attacks on passing cargo ships. Every ship that travels from the inner to the outer solar system has to drop out of Watters’ for a short while to pass through the belt. That’s when they’re vulnerable.’
Trenchard nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve seen some of the confidential reports on the attacks. I’ve even boarded some pirate hulks myself. Never seen much about it on the news though?’
Bird nodded. ‘Do you think the United Worlds government could reveal the true scale of the problem out here? It’s too much of an embarrassment to them. As the area straddles
the trade routes between the inner and outer solar system, their activities have gradually become a very real threat to the inner planets, especially the Earth. The larger naval vessels like the Breath of Vengeance can’t navigate safely between the asteroids in many sectors and so it’s the responsibility of the smaller, sub-light speed, Hunter and Wolverine class vessels to track them down using stealth tactics. Here in the Koronis sector, the belt is particularly dense and is also right next to a major clear path through the belt, so it’s a natural haven for pirate ships.’
‘So, it’s a search and destroy mission?’
‘Mainly,’ Bird replied, ‘but if we’re able, we are to board the pirate ships that we find and salvage what we can. Sometimes their supplies are better than those we have in our own stores on board. Weapons and ordinance can also be salvaged and re-used. If we capture a ship, we hang around until a slower cargo hauler shows up to pick up the prisoners and cargo. Then we blow up the pirate vessel to prevent it being used again and escort the hauler back out of the belt.’
‘Sounds like you know the ropes pretty well?’ said Trenchard.
‘My last posting was as X.O. on one of the old Hunter class. I’ve led squads over to pirate hulks more times than you’ve had hot dinners mate!’
There was a pause as Trenchard digested this. Then he screwed up his face in puzzlement.
‘One thing I’ve never worked out,’ he said. ‘Why do they make the damned things streamlined? I mean it’s not like they ever enter an atmosphere, is it? They could make them brick shaped and it wouldn’t make any difference in space. It’s even got tail fins for Christ sake!’
Bird smiled. That was just like Trenchard. He couldn’t stand unnecessary “faff”.
‘Well, the tail fins do allow for vectoring of the steering jets,’ he said by way of an explanation, ‘but there’s also another very good reason. It just looks striking. It’s all very well sending a flying brick into battle against pirates, but they’re much more likely to be impressed by something that looks the part. The designers made these things look deadly because it’s psychologically more intimidating to the enemy. Humans have thousands of years of programming built into their brains to tell them what looks dangerous and what doesn’t. Her designers took advantage of that. It also instigates a feeling of pride and even love in the crew that pilot her. It’s hard to love a brick.’
Trenchard grunted and ran his eyes over the vessel’s hull again.
‘You could if you had a big enough drill bit,’ he said dryly.
Trenchard wondered just exactly how many plasma blasts the hull would withstand. He had heard that the pirates were getting better equipped all the time. He was about to entrust his life to the engineers that had built the Might of Fortitude for the lowest possible cost in the shortest time. The navy always had a strict budget to stick to. Pirates stole what they needed and improved their ships all the time.
‘Have you got your magnetic boots on?’ Bird asked. ‘As we leave the wheel and approach the Might, we’re going to lose gravity’.
Trenchard nodded and banged the heel of his magnetic soled boot onto the metal floor making a clanking sound. ‘Aye Sir and I’ve got my heavy suit on. It’s not the first time I’ve been aboard one of these smaller ships.’
Trenchard could feel the weight of the heavy suit underneath his uniform. It had weights sewn into the fabric and special elastic bands to keep the muscles under tension. It helped to reduce muscle wastage on long voyages by putting extra load on the wearer’s limbs, in the lower gravity compartments of the vessel.
Bird smiled. ‘Lesson number one. It’s referred to as “boat” not a ship. Call it a ship to a member of the crew and they really will realise that you’re a “skimmer”.
Trenchard looked blank.
Bird laughed at Trenchard’s obvious confusion. ‘That’s what they call all the sailors in the rest of the fleet; comes from old rivalry between submarines and surface fleet ships.’
Trenchard pulled a sour face. He was starting to realise that he did have a lot to learn.
‘Well, let’s get down there,’ said Bird. ‘The sooner we board, the sooner you can stow your kit and make yourself at home. Come on mate.’
With that, the two comrades clanked off towards the lower levels of the Breath of Vengeance where the Might of Fortitude was berthed.
CHAPTER 5 “THE MIGHT OF FORTITUDE”
By the time the pair reached the airlock hatch that led onto the Might of Fortitude, they had left the rotating spokes behind and there was no gravity whatsoever. The only thing holding them down was their mag-boots. Trenchard had already started to feel space sick.
Bird looked at his friend’s green face and smiled, reaching into his pocket. ‘You still get sick?’ he asked with a grin.
Trenchard nodded, gulping in air to try and ward off the wave of nausea.
‘Here,’ said Bird, handing a small plastic bottle to Trenchard, ‘take one of these.’
Trenchard took the bottle and read the label, “Proteus Pharmaceuticals Anti-Gravity Sickness Tablets. One to be taken every four hours.”
‘Zee gee pills?’ said Trenchard with a raised brow. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve had to take these.’
Bird grinned again. ‘That’s ‘cos you’ve gotten soft, working on these big ships all the time. You’ll find that you will need these more often aboard the Might. Most of the missions that these boats undertake involve zero gee at some point. While we’re in flight, the Might will spin and there will be nearly normal gravity at the ends of the four fins, but for now, every part of the ship is zero gee.’
‘Great!’ said Trenchard, as he gulped down a tablet and gazed around the airlock.
A long line of crewmembers, each held down by their magnetic boots, were passing cargo and supplies along a human chain from a vast cargo lift through the small airlock and into the Might. They were watched over like a hawk by a Logistics Officer who ticked items off on a touch screen computer as they were loaded aboard.
‘That’s a lot of supplies,’ observed Trenchard.
Bird nodded. ‘It could be a long voyage mate. It would be no good to run out of bog paper or coffee half way through.’
‘Where do you store all the crates?’
‘Anywhere and everywhere. In the head, underneath bunks, even in the wardroom.’
As the junior rates worked they sang an ancient seafarers shanty to make the work pass more easily; a jaunty song about drinking and sailing, adapted for the space-faring age. The most important thing about the song was the beat.
‘There are mighty fine girls in every port,’
‘Haul away boys, haul away!’
‘And I’ve laid me down with every sort,’
‘Haul away boys, haul away!’
‘But I’ve never seen a girl with a finer arse,’
‘Haul away boys, haul away!’
‘Than the mighty fine girls that I’ve seen on Mars…’
‘Haul away boys, haul away!’
As the song continued along similar lewd lines, Captain Bird and Commander Trenchard passed by and one of the men shouted, ‘Officer on deck!’ All the officers and lower ranks saluted, leaving the cargo momentarily floating in mid-air. Waiting for them by the airlock was Warrant Officer Cochran with her vivid, bright red hair and a young Lieutenant Commander that Trenchard didn’t recognise. As they stopped by the hatch, both officers saluted. Cochran still looked like an over eager puppy, but the new face looked, if anything, a little worried. He was a tall man with short black hair and deep, haunted, sunken eyes. He had a full, close cropped beard and dark bushy eyebrows. Trenchard had the feeling that the man reminded him of somebody that he knew.
‘Trenchard, you’ve met Warrant Officer Cochran,’ said Captain Bird smiling.
Trenchard nodded to Cochran. ‘Unfortunately… yes,’ replied Trenchard.
Cochran’s face fell. She obviously wasn’t used to being disliked.
‘…and this,’ said Bird, t
urning to the other officer, ‘is Lieutenant Commander Peter Pugh.’
Trenchard clasped Pugh’s outstretched hand and shook. Pugh had a strong grip but his palm was a little sweaty.
‘Pugh?’ he said. ‘Do you have a brother posted aboard the Hand of Valour?’ Trenchard asked.
The man’s face brightened. ‘You know little Jimbo!’ he exclaimed excitedly.
‘I’ve met Jim once or twice in the pub,’ said Trenchard being as non-committal as he could.
‘He’s doing very well serving under Commander Fisher I’m told,’ said Pugh happily. ‘I was hoping that I might get the chance to see him while we were docked at Cairn, but the mission has been brought forwards.’
‘Yes, I know,’ said Trenchard tersely, casting a sour glance towards Bird.
‘Pugh is my Warfare Officer in the control room and will assist you in command of the troops during off-vessel operations, Commander Trenchard. I’m sure that the two of you will get along famously,’ Captain Bird said with a wink.
Trenchard grunted. He would have preferred to choose his own team but it seemed that Captain Bird had other ideas. Bird had personally handpicked the whole crew. He must have seen something worthwhile in Lieutenant Commander Pugh. His brother served with Trenchard’s Geordie friend Dasilva and was, by all accounts, a steady officer who never put a foot wrong. Time would tell if diligence ran in the family.
Pugh turned towards Captain Bird with a furrowed brow. ‘Captain, I still think that it’s a bad idea to launch this early,’ he said with obvious concern. ‘We still haven’t had the time we need to de-bug all of the systems. Lieutenant Sivia reports that the plasma cannons are still juddering on their tracks and none of the escape pods release mechanisms will…’
The Space Navy Series Books One & Two: Including the Kindle novellas Josiah Trenchard and the Might of Fortitude & Josiah Trenchard and the Morgenstern Page 5
