“Yes, I am certain of it,” Tracker replied.
“Then we will join the convoy and see what happens from there,” Greg said.
“We could fight some pirates along the way,” Peter said.
“Yes, there is that,” Greg agreed.
They joined the convoy and linked to the fiber optic net that kept the ships from colliding during the run in hyper drive. While they monitored the conversations over the net, they declined to participate recognizing that their identities needed to be kept secret a little longer.
Had Tracker and Huntress not been able to add their propulsion systems to the cargo ship’s they would not have arrived at the destination with the rest of the convoy. Taking the cargo ship in the state they found it without support would indeed have been a suicide mission.
One of the issues with the Class Five was that after years of transitions from hyper to standard drive, the metal in the trusses that ran the length of the ship deteriorated. They warped enough for navigation to be unreliable. Many of the older ships had left port with full loads and were never heard from again. This one was beginning to show its age and would need to be retired soon. Tracker and Huntress were able perform the needed calculations to keep the ship in the convoy, but had they not been the last ship on the tail end of the convoy, they might have suffered a collision with another ship.
After a month in transit, the convoy made the transition from hyper drive to standard drive at the edge of the security net surrounding the system that was their destination. Within minutes, the call that every freighter captain dreaded came over the fiber net.
“Pirates! Pirates closing fast. One hour to missile range.”
The four teens lost no time. “I’ll inform the convoy that we are abandoning the cargo ship and engaging the pirates,” Greg said.
“Won’t it be a hazard to the rest of the convoy?” Rose asked.
“I’ll program it to deviate from the rest of the convoy. Perhaps we can use it as a decoy and split the pirate forces,” Greg said.
Greg had barely enough time to strap into his seat before Tracker launched.
“Tracker, situation report,” Greg said.
“Twenty armed pirate vessels, the largest of which is a destroyer. Based on the radio chatter, it appears to be the command ship. They are supported by a Class Seven and two Class Five cargo ships,” Tracker reported. “On our side we have half a dozen pickets at least eight hours away coming from the planet. We have a convoy escort and us.”
Greg said, “Large for a pirate fleet. We know how Mom and Dad would have done this. Three and nine on the Class Seven. One missile, armor piercing, in the first volley. Lasers on the reactor cooling radiators. Load tube two with heat seekers just in case. Tracker, on your mark.”
The two PI ships disappeared as they jumped into hyper drive. PI ships, convoy escorts and a few destroyers were the only ships capable of a short hyper jump. During the time the ship was moving faster than light speed, it was not detectable to any light dependent sensor. The move Greg called for required navigation so accurate that only the PI could accomplish the task.
The instant that the two ships were on station perpendicular to the Class Seven cargo ship’s line of travel at the “three o’clock” and “nine o’clock” positions, Greg called, “Fire One!”
The cargo ship was not equipped to defend itself against a PI. Few ships were. The cargo ship’s defensive lasers were no match for the missiles at that close range. Undeterred by the few lasers that found them, the missiles penetrated the cargo ship’s reactor cooling radiators. Forty-eight combat-certified lasers from each PI ship followed the missiles into the holes and tore open the ship’s sides. As soon as internal explosions became obvious from the outside of the cargo ship, Greg called, “Same thing, near Class Five. Tracker on your mark.”
The two Class Five cargo ships, being smaller and less well defended, suffered the same fate as their larger companion. By this time, the pirates realized that were under attack from behind and that their bounty was being destroyed.
The pirates had lost their support ships before they reached missile range of the convoy. The convoy escort was moving against the destroyer and while both ships had engaged with their lasers, neither was in missile range. The remainder of the pirate fleet split into sections. One group stayed with the destroyer to attack the convoy escort. One group continued toward the convoy and one turned back around to face the two PI ships that had attacked them from behind. Two of the smallest pirate ships went after the cargo ship that Greg had ordered abandoned.
“Tracker, opposition status report, please,” Greg said.
“Six ships have turned to engage us. They are all Space Weapons Labs models, a 210, two 180’s and three 105’s.”
“We should go after the 210,” Greg said.
“Greg, that may not be the best plan,” Huntress said.
“How so?” Greg asked.
“The 210 carries the most ordinance, but the 105’s are more maneuverable. We should drop disruptor missiles on the 105’s since even our lasers won’t keep up with an evading 105. We can program the disruptor to terminate when it has completed its mission and we can collect them later. We go after the 108’s with heat seekers up the pipes and then we can devote our attention to the 210, which if the pilot has any sense at all, will run like hell,” Huntress said.
“Tracker?” Greg asked.
“Huntress, as usual has the best plan,” Tracker replied.
“I think we should go in with guns blazing,” Greg said. “We don’t lose anything by engaging the lasers at the same time we fire the disruptor. We stay together and do both,” Greg said.
“Come on, Greg, we’re wasting time,” Avi said.
“Tracker, all guns plan, please, on your mark,” Greg said.
The PI ships short hyper jumped into the middle of the pirate formation, caught the first 105 by surprise and ripped it open with their lasers. The other two were much more difficult. Splitting up, they each engaged the evasive 105’s with lasers, but the small 105 was a difficult target. Half an hour elapsed before the PI ships were able to fire the disruptor missiles and disable the 105’s. Once disabled, the 105’s fell quickly to the PI ships’ lasers.
The 180’s and the 210, apparently assuming that the 105’s had matters well in hand, turned back to the convoy. That was their mistake. In the midst of the dogfight with the 105’s Greg and Avi each fired a single heat seeker missile as the larger pirate ships turned away. The heat seekers found the propulsion systems of the 180’s and blew them apart. The “up the pipes” shot was a favorite tactic of the Solomon family, but had fallen out of favor among more recent pilots since it often crippled the enemy ship without destroying its defenses. The disruptor, by contrast, disabled the ship’s higher electronics without damaging the drive and life support systems allowing a ship to be disabled without destroying it. Of course, a disabled ship was much easier to destroy with lasers than one able to defend itself and the merciful thing to do was to kill the crew before they starved to death.
When the 180’s detonated, the 210 pilot realized his mistake. He turned back around to face the two PI ships.
In the distance, the convoy escort prevailed against the pirate destroyer and turned its attention to the rest of the pirate fleet. The convoy escort was the most heavily armed ship short of a battleship ever built. They were constantly updated with the latest weapons and technology. Tangling with one was never a good idea.
The convoy escort was well within its operational parameters as it engaged the remaining dozen small pirate warships. With the destroyer gone, several turned from their pursuit of the convoy to face the escort. That would be their last mistake.
The 210 faced Tracker and Huntress.
“Tracker, Huntress, I think we should appear to retreat and let him get close enough for us to launch from our rear tubes. Given our relative velocities, we should be able to nail him fairly easily,” Greg said.
“H
eat seekers,” Huntress concurred.
“After we fire, we loop around and follow with lasers,” Tracker added.
“It’s a plan,” Greg said.
The PI ships turned tail on the 210 and appeared to try to escape. The 210 approached at a crushing 10 G’s. When the ships were at the ideal point, one missile launched from each of the PI ships’ rear tubes. The missiles performed flawlessly and there was nothing left to laser after the PI ships completed their loop.
“Well, that was fun,” Avi said. “Shall we recover our cargo ship?”
“Probably not a good idea to leave a derelict in the shipping lanes,” Greg agreed.
“You guys have been real quiet, Peter, Rose are you alive back there?” Avi asked.
“Barely,” Peter gasped. “Way too much fun for one day.”
“I’m fine,” Rose said with pain in her voice. The repeated short hyper jumps were painful and she did not deal with them well.
“Tracker, shall we get the ship?” Greg asked.
“One last short jump and I think we’re done for today,” Tracker said.
When they dropped out of hyper drive near the cargo ship they had abandoned, two small pirate ships warily circled it. They had no way to know if the cargo ship was unarmed or if the crew was holding its fire until the last moment. A ship like this delivered intact was worth much more than one whose cargo would have to be cross-loaded to another ship for transport. All that became moot when the PI ships arrived. Dividing their targets, each P I targeted one pirate with their lasers. Forty-eight combat-certified lasers from each P I were more than capable of destroying the flimsy pirate ships and within ten minutes of their return, both pirate ships had been dispatched.
“Now what?” Peter asked.
“We help the convoy escort with the remaining pirates. Pirates communicate faster than anyone else in the galaxy and word of our success here will put them on notice. None of them can survive to tell the tale,” Greg said.
“We should start with the nearest,” Avi suggested.
“Arm lasers,” Greg said. “Let’s go.”
Two more pirate ships fell to the PI ships before there were none left.
The four teens and their PI ships returned to the cargo ship. Greg set a course as his siblings collapsed into their bunks.
“Nice work today,” Greg said as he headed for his cabin. “There’ll be hell to pay when we get to the depot.”
GENERATIONS - CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WHILE WAITING IN A PARKING ORBIT around the airless moon that hosted the freight depot long after the rest of the convoy had been brought to the surface, Greg watched a small shuttle craft approach.
“Hey gang, we have company. Put on your best armor and your smiliest smiley faces,” Greg said.
A person claiming to be the harbor-master requested permission to come aboard.
He had come alone in a two-man shuttle. He removed his flight helmet revealing an elderly man whose hair had long ago gone white and whose face showed the ravages of time. Mostly he looked tired. Still, Greg was taking no chances.
“Welcome, sir, please show the ship your ID,” Greg said.
“No need,” Tracker said. “He was an assistant to the harbor-master at Stellar Headquarters when I was there. He served with distinction in the war. His medical transponder is active. Commodore Marcus, would you like a seat?”
“Yes, thank you. No one has referred to me by my military rank in a long time. Thank you.”
“It is my honor, sir,” Tracker replied.
Once Commodore Marcus had been seated, Tracker said, “Sir, you should have let a younger man make this trip. You are not well.”
The old man smiled. “You sound like Elizabeth.”
“I will take that as a compliment, sir.”
“As it was intended.” The old man assessed the four teens standing before him. “I had to come myself. I would not have believed anyone else. Greg and Avi back from the dead. As I live and breathe.”
He held his hand up to stop Greg’s comment.
“I don’t believe in reincarnation any more than you do, but you are Greg and Avi. Your ships may not be named ‘Buddy’ and ‘Daisy’, but they are Buddy and Daisy. You two may not be Rachel and Wendy, but you have their heritage. You put on an incredible display against the pirates. The last person I saw use tactics like what you displayed was Wren. You don’t look like Kim and Wren, but you fly like them and you fight like them. You have to trust your PI ship. So many other pilots didn’t and they died as a result. We need combat teams like you more than we have since the earliest days of the Federation when the Pirate Interdiction force was established.”
“So where does that leave us?” Greg asked. “We have no documentation. We are non-persons.”
“Worse than that, when the wrong people find out about you, there will be a price on your heads. That is why I can’t let you land at the depot. Unlike my colleague who sent you to me, I would like to see you live. He sent his report and your samples via courier. He did not believe your claims. I do. We have since received verification from the Swordsmen of what little information we could glean from your ships’ logs at your prevous stop.”
“You know,” Rose said. “All this is interesting, but we’ve been traveling for months in the same clothes we were wearing when we left Elizabeth. I would really like a clean set of underwear. Can we at least go shopping?”
“How can we go shopping?” Avi asked. “We have no money and no credit cards.”
“And neither of you have been shopping so you don’t know how to do it,” Greg reminded them.
“We’ve seen videos,” Rose retorted.
Commodore Marcus held up his hand. “I will have my daughter see that you get what you need.”
“And we would like to have the missiles we expended in your defense replaced,” Greg said.
“I have already taken care of that. The convoy escort’s report was thorough and we will provide you modern replacements. As to the matter of payment for the delivery of this cargo, we are prepared to offer you this ship once we unload it. We would provide you with six months of supplies.”
Greg pondered the offer. “No, thanks. This ship is not safe to travel. We were given it in the hope that it would fail and rid your colleague of a pesky problem. I do not want it.”
The old man rubbed his eyes. He smiled. “I would have been disappointed in you if you had accepted. Still, there are people within the company who do not think of you as allies. They would kill you given half a chance.”
“So what else is new?” Greg asked. “Our father told us this long ago. He renounced his claim as heir to the management of Stellar Interstellar Freight.”
“He renounced his claim, but it was not accepted. He can’t renounce it any more than you can renounce being a descendant of Greg and Avi Solomon.”
Greg said, “Under the terms of the Federation charter and Stellar company policy we delivered one of your ships and we defended one of your convoys from pirates. We deserve to be compensated.”
“Yes, well, let me make you another offer. I have a load that needs to go to a small planet about a month’s travel time from here. It is barely enough to fill a Class Five and none of my pilots is willing to venture out alone.”
He paused to see if Greg’s expression had softened. It hadn’t.
“I have a small old Class Two in the yard that we stopped using because it was uneconomical since we could not afford to send it with an escort for such small loads. We used to use it for in-system deliveries, but after the war, we pulled back our remote outposts. You could take it. You can attach your PI ships to it and tether the Class Five to make the run. You can abandon the Class Five with the delivery. The Class Two and everything we put on it is compensation for the two deliveries.”
Greg thought for a moment. “We get to inspect the Class Two before we decide.”
“Fair enough,” Commodore Marcus said. “I will have it brought to you. I will have shuttles c
ollect your cargo pods and bring your next load.”
“Don’t forget my underwear,” Rose said.
“I promise.”
* * * * *
“Tracker, is she space-worthy?”
“She seems to be in great shape. According to her logs, she spent most of her active duty as an in-system freighter and did not make hyper jumps other than the one that brought her here and a few to nearby systems,” Tracker replied.
“Huntress, do you concur?”
“Yes, I do. She could last us a long time and her four cabins would be comfortable accommodations for you, if not as spacious as what you are used to on Elizabeth.”
“So, I guess the first question is where we are taking this load and the next is where do we go from there?” Greg said.
“One step at a time, Greg,” Avi said. “We can work this out as we go.”
“Oh, by the way, Tracker, can she be made sentient?” Greg asked.
“No,” Tracker replied. “She has neither the processing power nor the memory.”
“When Commodore Marcus returns, I will inform him we will accept his offer.”
Commodore Marcus made good on all his promises. Conservative, comfortable clothing was provided for the teens and enough supplies to last them a year were loaded into the cargo modules attached to the ship’s cargo bays. When they were preparing to leave he had one last request.
“I know this is out of line and if you refuse I will understand. I know that Tracker and Huntress are sentient. They are the last two sentient PI ships in existence. May I see their avatars?”
Tracker’s projected three dimensional “Wild Bill Cody” avatar walked around the corner and appeared on the flight deck. While it was only one of several avatars he used, it was his first and Wren’s favorite. Huntress followed as a warrior clad in black leather with a compound crossbow and a quiver full of arrows. They silently nodded to Commodore Marcus before walking away again.
“Travel safe my young friends.”
GENERATIONS - CHAPTER NINETEEN
COMMODORE MARCUS MET WREN and Kim at the bottom of the access ramp from the Queen Elizabeth to the spaceport. “I am so glad to see you two. We thought you had died. You have no idea how I felt when Elizabeth requested a dock assignment.”
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