by Ryk Brown
“No,” Nathan objected, shaking his head. “We stick together.”
“Won’t work,” she disagreed. “The minute we step out of here, they’re going to be after us. Better that they’re only after me.”
“And if you get caught?”
“Trust me,” Jessica said, “it will hurt them more than it does me.”
Before he could argue further, Jessica rose and purposefully leaned out a bit too far.
“Hey!” one of the men yelled in Angla.
Jessica took off running in the opposite direction.
“Stop!” the man ordered.
Several energy weapons shots rang out, echoing in the metallic corridor. Nathan could hear the men running, yelling warnings over their comm-units as they approached. He swung over to the side on the ladder, making sure that he was out of sight as the men ran past him, pursuing Jessica.
“Damn it,” he cursed to himself as he climbed up the ladder and stepped onto the landing. There was nothing Nathan could do for Jessica now, except to get to that access hatch.
* * *
Master Sergeant Anwar reached the entrance to the Mystic’s forward observation deck. He paused momentarily, tilting his head and peeking inside the three-level-high compartment.
The compartment appeared empty. Massive windows, each of them now covered with blast shields, stretched from the deck and wrapped all the way around the compartment. In the middle of the compartment was a garden, complete with trees, grass, and perfectly groomed flower beds. At the back of the compartment were tables and chairs, and along the back wall, a bar.
Anwar checked the tactical display on the inside of his visor. The only contacts he showed were that of his men; two of them were to port, and two to starboard. After peeking one last time, he stepped out through the entrance, passing between the port and starboard sides of the bar, and out into the open, sweeping his weapon from point to point to check that no undetected intruders were present.
Anwar lowered his weapon slightly, noting that the contacts in his tactical display indicated his men were also moving out into the open. He looked around, spotting all four of them, as they too scanned the area with their weapons.
“We spotted four on the move,” Sergeant Morano reported as he approached.
“Four as well,” Sergeant Vela added. “Traveling in pairs. And another six guarding prisoners in the center courtyard.”
“Same here,” Sergeant Morano agreed. “I believe the pairs were conducting a search of the ship, perhaps searching for more prisoners.”
“That adds up. I saw eight guarding engineering, and the six guarding prisoners you spoke of. That leaves five or six more likely guarding the bridge.”
“How did you come up with that number?” Corporal Rossi wondered.
“I took one down near engineering. I believe he was on his way to the bridge. He said there were thirty on board, with another twenty reinforcements waiting on their main ship.”
“Any indication of their level of training?” Sergeant Morano wondered. “We couldn’t get a good read, they seemed confident that they had control of the ship.”
“He tried to tell me that most of them were common criminals,” Master Sergeant Anwar replied. “He even claimed that he was just a medic, but he revealed his level of training when he attempted to prevent his own execution.”
“I’m assuming he failed?” Sergeant Vela joked.
Master Sergeant Anwar did not respond, only gave the sergeant a knowing smirk.
* * *
Vladimir came bounding down the Seiiki’s cargo ramp before it was completely deployed, jumping off the side of the ramp toward Cameron and General Telles as they approached. “They hit with four breaching pods, big enough to hold four, maybe six men each,” he began as his feet touched the deck.
“Were they Dusahn?” General Telles asked.
“No, not military at all. They looked like they were cobbled together. They had a main ship as well. It was three times the size of the Seiiki, at least. It had two small shuttles that ferried more men to the Mystic.”
“The original boarding parties likely secured the hangar bays first,” the general surmised.
“The bigger ship, it was armed?” Cameron inquired.
“Da,” Vladimir replied. “Short range anti-ship missiles, and rail guns. Small ones, like for point-defenses.”
“No energy weapons?”
“On the main ship, nyet,” Vladimir replied. “None that we saw.”
General Telles held up his data pad. “Did their main ship look like this?”
Vladimir studied the image for a moment. “No, the profile is wrong. It was longer, and wider in the middle. With guns along the sides, top and bottom.”
General Telles scrolled through several more images, before showing Vladimir the data pad again.
“Da!” Vladimir exclaimed. “That is it! Or very close to that. It was difficult to get clear readings in the cloud.”
“What is it?” Cameron asked the general.
“Palean assault ship,” the general explained. “Used to put troops on the surface. Fat in the middle because of landing thrusters. They were normally equipped with missiles and rail guns for defense. Most of them were turned into interplanetary cargo ships after the war, then into jump cargo ships after the fall of Caius.”
“How many boarders do you think they could carry?” Cameron wondered.
“Fifty, at least,” the general replied. “More than enough to overpower the security forces normally carried by a cruise ship.”
“I didn’t realize piracy was a problem around here,” Cameron said.
“Normally, it is not,” the general explained, “but now that the Dusahn have removed the threat of retaliation from the owner’s security forces, it will likely become a problem.” General Telles looked at Vladimir. “What of Master Sergeant Anwar and his men?”
“He insisted that they deploy to the Mystic,” Vladimir replied.
“Did they make it aboard?”
“I do not know,” Vladimir admitted. “The ship jumped before they landed. They were close enough to be included in the jump field, if their fields are the same distance from the hull as ours.” Vladimir shook his head. “There is no way to be sure. I am sorry.”
“But Nathan and Jessica are on board the Mystic?” Cameron confirmed.
“Da. We docked with the Mystic, and they were allowed to come aboard, but with no weapons.”
“Lieutenant Nash agreed to this?” General Telles asked, somewhat surprised.
“Trust me, she objected.”
“How many men can your Reapers carry?” General Telles asked Cameron.
“Twelve troops,” she replied. “Probably more like eight fully outfitted Ghatazhak.”
“And you have six total?”
“Yes,” Cameron replied. “I’ve already taken the liberty of having two of them configured to carry your men, the other two with anti-ship missiles. The last two are carrying recon pods, and are already on their way to find the Mystic.”
“Change one of the missile Reapers to troop carrying,” the general instructed. “Do the same with the recon Reaper when it returns to relay the Mystic’s position to us. That will give us the ability to put at least thirty-two men onto that ship.”
“Will that be enough?” Vladimir wondered.
“It should suffice,” the general assured him.
“What if we cannot find her?” Cameron said. “What if she took evasive action…to elude pursuit?”
“Let us hope not,” General Telles said, “or our people will be on their own.”
* * *
“When the bloody hell is the Antilla going to get here?” Siggy exclaimed in frustration.
“It�
��s only been ten minutes, Siggy,” his helmsman said calmly.
“Ten minutes? That’s right, it has been ten minutes, hasn’t it? Ten minutes that you’ve been failing at unlocking that damned jump drive. Isn’t that right, Donnel?”
“Maybe the Antilla’s jump drive is acting up again,” the other man suggested.
“Did I ask you, Hamon?” Siggy closed his eyes, clenching his teeth as he tried to maintain his composure. Things were not going the way he had planned. “I should have spent the money and repaired that damned thing, instead of buying more men,” he muttered.
“Siggy, it’s Rikka!” one of his men yelled over Sigmund’s comm-unit. “We’re pursuing a woman in uniform,” he said between ragged breaths. “We spotted her coming up an access ladder, starboard side, aft of engineering.”
“One of the crew?” Siggy asked over his comm-unit.
“I don’t think so! The uniform was wrong! And she doesn’t move… Like someone who works… On a cruise ship!”
“Then who the hell is she?” Siggy demanded. He keyed his comm-unit again. “Catch her, and bring her to me! Understood?”
“I’ve got Xander and Eaves… Moving to cut her off… On the port side! We’ll catch her!”
“You damned well better!” Siggy warned. He turned to his other man. “That bitch probably took out Gortie.”
“No way.”
A faint voice squawked from Master Sergeant Anwar’s utility pouch on his right thigh armor. He quickly pulled a small, civilian-type comm-unit out.
“We spotted her coming up an access ladder, starboard side, aft of engineering.”
“Where did you get that?” Sergeant Morano asked.
“I don’t think so! The uniform was wrong! And she doesn’t move… Like someone who works… On a cruise ship!” the comm-unit in Anwar’s hand blared.
“They must be talking about Nash,” Sergeant Vela surmised.
“Why didn’t they say anything about Scott?” Corporal Rossi wondered.
“I’ve got Xander and Eaves… Moving to cut her off… On the port side! We’ll catch her!” the comm-unit continued.
“I don’t know,” Anwar replied. “But I intend to find out,” he added. “Morano, Rossi, you two take up positions forward of the bandits guarding the prisoners. Vela and Rattan, you’re with me.”
“What are you going to do?” Sergeant Morano asked.
“I’m going to find Nash and Scott, then we’re going to free the prisoners and get them off this ship, before these assholes get reinforcements,” Anwar explained.
“Then what?” Corporal Rattan asked.
“Then we kill these idiots,” the master sergeant replied, turning to head toward the exit.
“There’s a dog run along the bottom of the ship,” Sergeant Morano told Anwar. “Stem to stern, straight shot. It’s secured, so it’ll be empty. That’s how we got past them coming here.”
“How’d you get in?” Anwar wondered, pausing for an answer, and turning back toward them.
“Rossi hacked it,” the sergeant replied.
“Two eight four six seven,” Corporal Rossi stated, obviously pleased with himself.
“Down three decks, can’t miss it,” Sergeant Morano added.
“Good work,” Master Sergeant Anwar said. “Everyone go comms active and secure. If all they have are these cheap-ass comm-units, they’ll never hear us.”
* * *
“Captain, Flight ops reports all Reapers are loaded and ready for departure,” the Aurora’s comms officer reported. “The Seiiki is also ready to launch.”
“Very well,” Cameron replied from her command chair in the middle of the bridge. “Launch the strike team.”
“Launching strike team, aye.”
“Notify the Glendanon and the Morsiko-Tavi. Tell them we start the relocation algorithm as soon as the strike team is safely away.”
“Not all of the Glendanon’s boxcars have returned, Captain,” the Aurora’s tactical officer reminded Cameron.
“We’ll drop a comm-buoy before we go,” Cameron replied. “They’ll be able to get the starting code from that. We’ve already taken a hell of a risk staying put this long.”
* * *
“Wake him,” Siggy instructed.
“How?” Hamon asked.
“How do I know?” Siggy snapped impatiently. “Throw some water on him or something!”
“What water?”
“We’re on a cruise ship, for…” Siggy gave up, moving over to the unconscious captain lying on the deck of the Mystic’s bridge. He grabbed him by the collar of his uniform with both hands and began to shake him vigorously. “Wake the hell up!” he yelled.
Captain Rainey began to open his eyes. Slowly at first, then they snapped open. He instinctively grabbed at his attacker’s hands, trying to break the grip, but he was too weak.
Siggy let him go and stepped away. “Get him to his feet!” he barked at his two subordinates.
The two men stepped over and grabbed Captain Rainey by his arms, yanking him to his feet. The captain was unsteady, needing a bit of assistance from Hamon to stay upright.
“I’m beginning to lose patience,” Siggy told Captain Rainey. “I don’t much like being stranded in the middle of nowhere, especially without the cover of that cloud you jumped us out of.” Siggy stepped closer to the captain. “Unlock the jump drive, or I will start executing your crew, one by one.”
Captain Rainey did not respond at first. Instead, he stared at his captor, locking eyes with him. Finally, he spoke. “I will not release control of the jump drive to you, or anyone else. I have taken an oath, and I mean to honor it.”
“Is that right?” Siggy replied. He raised his comm-unit and keyed it. “Jortan, you there?”
Nathan ran along the port side of the engineering level, through the outboard corridor than ran between the Mystic’s main hull and her outboard sections. He could hear the occasional sound of distant weapons fire, reverberating through the corridors. It made him cringe, wondering every time if the shot had found Jessica and struck her down.
But again, something inside of him told him that would not be the case.
He skidded to a stop before nearly charging past the port engineering crawlspace access hatch. He quickly inserted the security badge that Jessica had given him, unlocked the hatch, and swung it open. He dove headfirst through the hatch, floating freely as he passed from the artificial gravity of the Mystic’s interior, to the weightless environment of her crawl spaces.
Pausing just long enough to close and lock the access hatch behind him, Nathan pushed off the inside of the hatch with both feet, propelling himself down the transit path, passing between a myriad of pipes, conduits, and ducting. He grabbed at well-positioned handholds along the way, guiding himself along, avoiding collisions with the tangled web of mechanical and electrical runs all about him. Ahead, he could see the hatch to the port jump field generator compartment, but it was still a distance away.
“Let me guess,” Siggy said in measured tones. “Something about protecting your ship, your crew, your passengers… Am I right?” Siggy keyed his comm-unit again, growing impatient. “Jortan!”
“Yes! I am here, Siggy!” the man finally answered.
“Select a member of the crew and execute them, immediately,” Siggy instructed over his comm-unit.
“Uh… Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Of course, I am sure.” Siggy was becoming more annoyed.
“Uh… That might not be a good idea, just yet,” Jortan replied hesitantly.
Siggy stood, turning away from Captain Rainey. “I did not ask you if it was a good idea, you idiot.”
“I’ve only got six guys, here, Siggy. And there’s got to be at least a hundred prisoners,
maybe two. If they were all to rush us at once…”
“Then you’d cut them down!” Siggy replied, barely able to hold back his rage. “Your weapons do have an auto-fire mode, you know!”
“I know, I know. But maybe it would be better if we waited for the Antilla to arrive with our reinforcements,” Jortan suggested over the comm-unit.
“I don’t believe this,” Siggy said to himself, the hand holding his comm-unit dropping to his side. He looked at Hamon. “You get what you pay for, right?”
Hamon was afraid to respond.
Siggy raised his comm-unit to his mouth again and keyed the mic. “Select a member of the crew, take him into a separate room, where the others cannot see him, and then execute him.”
After a brief pause, Jortan responded. “How do you want me to kill him?”
“If you cannot figure that out on your own, then you’re not worth paying,” Siggy retorted. “Get it done!”
“Yes, sir.”
Siggy turned to look at Captain Rainey, who was now standing without assistance. “Better take two members of the crew,” he said into his comm-unit. “One of them as a witness.”
“Understood.”
“It will do you no good,” Captain Rainey warned. “They took the same oath as I did.”
“We will see about that,” Siggy replied confidently.
Nathan drifted carefully through the hatch, into the port jump field generator compartment, his feet settling on the deck and taking his weight as he passed into the artificial gravity field produced in the compartment. Without bothering to close the hatch behind him, he ran across the large, white compartment and opened the tool cabinet, removed the nut driver, and headed straight for the nearest offline jump field generator.
