Infinity Is For Losers (Space Scout Book 2)

by Will Macmillan Jones

  “An agreement to vary the contract terms to allow for this little side matter to be concluded, and a contract temporarily appointing you to a position within The Merchant Prince’s forces. We have given you the rank of Brigadier-general for the duration of the mission.”

  “A Brigadier?”

  “And of course, we have naturally included a provision for the payment of the pro rata salary for the period of your engagement with us.”

  I perked up a little at that. A financial inducement always cheers me up.

  “I will see you on your return, Brigadier. The major will see you out.” The CEO promptly dismissed me from his attention.

  “And the Vipers, Sir?” I asked.

  “What? Oh, come back after the mission and we will sort something out then. Now be off.” The CEO waved vaguely, and the major encouraged me to move by shoving his weapon somewhere sensitive. I’ll leave his choice of target to your imagination.

  “Back to your ship, sir,” he growled.

  Chapter four

  Infinity is for losers

  The Speedbird emerged out of hyperspace close to the centre of the star system. The proximity alert warning horn remained silent, and I relaxed. Actually, I relaxed so far that I fell off the pilot’s chair, and scrambled back up with a great deal of swearing. One of the benefits of being a scout pilot with a brief to roam some of the more esoteric parts of the galaxy is that you tend to pick up a wide variety of invective. In fact I once won a competition in a bar for knowing how to tell someone to eff off in twenty eight different languages.

  I opened the comms channel and listened: I initiated a scan of the immediate area: neither resulted in any contact. On one hand this was good as nobody was about to attack me, on the other hand it was bad as this area was supposed to be busy with the Merchant Prince’s trading operations. Silence was not encouraging, and the lack of any interstellar traffic worried me.

  I set a course towards Calliope and watched the vidscreens carefully with the proximity alert set to maximum distance. Time and coffee passed. In fact so much coffee passed that I needed to hit the toilet facility, and of course that was when the proximity alert went off like a howling banshee. Still, I had more than one flightsuit. In fact I had three, since the bright blue uniform of a Brigadier-general in the service of the Merchant Princes lay, neatly folded, on my bunk. Actually, that was where I intended it to stay. Taking the money was one thing, pretending to be in the service of a foreign power was another, one that could get me executed by a wide number of people, including my own side.

  Back on the flight deck I could see what had alerted the warning. The third planet in from the edge of the star system was Calliope, and the Imperium was already there. A huge Star Cruiser hung at some distance from the planet, with a steady stream of smaller craft going to and fro between the enormous ship and the planet. Fortunately, this system had a number of wandering objects, and Calliope itself was ringed with an asteroid belt. Both would provide me with cover. I did think for a moment of going back home without the Viper Scout ships, and also of reporting back to the CEO that I had not managed to find any resistance, but neither really appealed.

  The proximity alert went off again, but this time with a distinctive interrupted warble that meant the hazard was natural, rather than intentional. A wandering comet was approaching on a vector that would allow me to use it as a screen against the Imperium’s forces. Quickly I powered up the engines and used the thrusters to align the Speedbird behind the comet and matched vectors and velocities. Hopefully hidden, I dropped through the star system towards the asteroids of Calliope.

  The comms channel came to life, startling me into spilling coffee again.

  “Warrior leader, this is Starburst,” announced a voice in the rich, fruity tones of the very important officers.

  “Go ahead, Starburst.”

  “Warrior leader, the space port is fully secure. The System Governor’s offices were taken easily and we have accessed the data systems. The armed ground forces were relatively light and have all been terminated. Mopping up operations have commenced, but this planet may be deemed first phase secure.”

  “Starburst, transmission acknowledged and recorded. Well done. Intel says that the internal planets have no military facilities. Accordingly, you may collect your battle group and report to Excel Control to join the assault on the remaining part of this Sector.”

  “Warrior leader, Starburst: orders received and logged.”

  “Pay close attention to your star charts. Only this sector of the quadrant is being assimilated into the Imperium. Do not infringe the next sector, that is an imperative.”

  Now, that was interesting. Only the sector controlled by the Emporium was being taken. I scrabbled for my own star charts and pored over them as the wandering comet continued to fall towards the asteroid belt. Why only this sector? Then I understood. This sector of the Merchant Princes’ quadrant was the only region that had a border with both the Imperium and The Free Union. The Imperium was cleaning up. I really needed to report this information back to Star Fleet Base and coded the transmission ready to send. Then I paused. There was too high a risk that sending the transmission might alert this Warrior class Star Cruiser to my presence.

  What to do? Wait was the answer. Patience is a virtue, and helps the preservation of life. Or so I have found. Fools rush in, and all that. Instead I watched the asteroid belt come closer, while Warrior leader dismissed half his force of StarDestroyers, sent the space frigates deeper into the system to intercept any traffic that did try moving around, and sent more and more troops down onto the planet.

  At last the asteroid belt was close enough, and I slipped, as unobtrusively as possible, into its shadow. The wandering comet briefly curved around the belt towards the Star Cruiser and I began to get excited – the Star Cruiser’s First Officer certainly did – but in the end the planet’s gravitational field was not strong enough to capture the comet and it shot off towards deep space. I watched it go regretfully.

  “Thankfully the comet has gone!” shouted the First Officer of the Star Cruiser over the open channel. “Resume transport operations.”

  I monitored the passage of the ships going to and fro from the Star Cruiser, and calculated a trajectory that could take me down to the surface with a good chance of not being seen. The landing area I hose looked quite empty, but I reasoned that the high risk point was getting down through the atmosphere. Once down, I could fly below the detection systems to somewhere more interesting.

  Luckily for me, just then came a small crisis for the invaders. Two shuttle craft collided, and the air filled with colourful language.

  “Watch where you are going, cretin!”

  “SoH, ghaH SoH motherless moron puv, ghojmoH 'Iv?”

  “Say that again in the bar later, and I’ll have you!”

  “rodent mach laH wej ghob SoH Hutlh bID beq je chach nIS”

  “Right! Get yourself down here now and say that to my face!”

  “nachlIj? 'oH jatlh jIH bIS'ub qaSpu'DI' SoH knocked jIH wa' ghop!”

  “Turn this jalopy round, lads. We’re going to teach that bunch of Klingon renegades what Imperium troops can do!”

  “vaj chonayta' DISov. Hoch, qaStaHvIS yIchovchoHQo' quv ‘f. all’”

  “Did he just say what I thought he said? Did he?”

  “This is Warrior Leader.” The Star Cruiser Captain was not having any more of this. “Stop bickering. If your shuttles are damaged land at the ground facility and report to maintenance. If not, continue work!”

  There was an aggrieved silence on the comms channel that somehow spoke volumes. I used the opportunity to initiate the landing sequence, and leaving my hiding place behind the asteroid belt, slipped down into the atmosphere. Thankfully I attracted no attention, and the Speedbird dropped swiftly down to a comfortable landing on a wide strip of sand beside a crystal blue sea. I shut down the engines, checked the atmosphere, and then left the flight deck.

  It took
only a minute to slide down the circular staircase into the entry hatch, open it and stand marvelling on the sand. The air was crisp, with a faint tang of salt. The sea was so inviting that I pulled off my boots and had a paddle in the shallow water, before returning to the Speedbird and sitting down in the hatch to gaze out at the frankly beautiful scene.

  “The admiral was right,” I said aloud. “Infinity is for losers when you can have this.” The waves lapped at the sand. A gentle breeze blew along the shore, making the fronds on nearby palm trees rustle. The sun beat down, and I dozed in contentment. Trust me on this, life as pilot captain of a StarDestroyer or as pilot of a single crew Scout ship rarely if ever provides moments of such tranquillity and beauty. Boredom, yes. Terrifying danger, yes. Unrivalled views of galaxies where the stars are hung with a poet’s eye, yes. But sitting in the entry hatch of your spaceship dangling your feet in a warm ocean? No.

  I was terribly comfortable, lying back on the floor of the entry hatch with my feet in the water. Wonderfully comfortable, until I felt this itch. It developed into quite a sharp feeling, and suddenly I panicked that an alien parasite was sticking something very sharp into me. I opened my eyes and sat up to find I was right. Only this parasite was almost six feet tall, wore a dark business suit, and carried a home-made spear which was the cause of the pain – he was prodding me with the sharp end.

  “Ow!” I exclaimed, and batted away the spear.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asked in passable Standard, still jabbing at me with his spear.

  “I’m having a beach break of course!” I told him.

  “During an invasion? That’s a bit odd. Whose side are you on?”

  “It’s my business,” I told him. I was beginning to feel annoyed by his attitude, frankly.

  “Tell me!” he insisted. “Or I’ll make you!”

  He looked a bit weedy, and I decided that even I could manage to hold him off for long enough to close the entry hatch and lift ship, so I gave him a rude retort. “You and what army?” I added.

  He jerked one thumb, and another twenty spears appeared around the side of the hatch, all aimed at sensitive and delicate parts of my anatomy.

  “Ah.”

  “Now, I’ll ask you once more.”

  “There’s no need,” I told him hastily. “I’m a neutral from The Free Union and I really am having a beach break.”

  The spears withdrew a little. I pulled my feet back inside the hatch. “Now, who are you lot?”

  “We’re the indigenous population, driven from our city homes by the oppressive forces of The Imperium,” the suit replied.

  “I can well believe it.” I could, I could. Looking at the assorted motley collection, any sensible, half way intelligent invading force would have driven this lot as far away as possible and counted it a day’s work well done. Colonel Starker, the Imperium’s Chief Enforcer, would have rounded them up and had them labouring in the salt mines on the spot, and who could blame him?

  “In that case, I have good news for you,” I told them. Their faces showed considerable doubt, which was another point against them. “I recently met the CEO of the Emporium.”

  “Has he ordered a counter invasion to save us?” asked one hopeful, who looked so ineffective (despite his enormous spear) that I concluded he was a Cost and Management Accountant.

  “He is gathering the forces needed for just that,” I assured them. There was a brief cheer. “In fact, I agreed to stop off here to contact any resistance forces and assure them that aid was on its way, preparing to strike.”

  “Is that so?” asked the suit. “Then why did you stop here to have a paddle?”

  “I’ve landed covertly, so I was waiting to see if the Imperium forces had noticed me before starting to seek out any locals resisting the invasion. Are you resisting?”

  “Yes!” shouted the suit, fervently. “We will fight to the death!”

  I looked at the rabble around the Speedbird, and privately agreed that any fight would result in their deaths. Quickly, if they were lucky, slowly if they weren’t.

  “But we will need advice and weapons,” said another nearby who seemed to be more level headed and sensible. “Can you supply either?”

  “Advice, yes. Run away and hide, and wait for the professionals. But I can report your location to the CEO, and he will try and provide logistical support while you spy out the Imperium’s activities and await a chance to strike in support of the counter invasion!”

  This nonsense seemed to go down quite well. Spears were shaken, and shouts of loyalty to the Emporium followed. This was very encouraging, and suggested that I might actually escape this moronic mob.

  “What are you going to do next?” asked the suit.

  “Now that the dust has settled from my arrival, I’m going to take off and try and get close to the nearest city. Then I can complete the mission, and go back to report.” I carefully did not say which mission or who I was going to report to.

  “Good!” said the suit enthusiastically. “I’ll come with you, and help you contact the locals.”

  This wasn’t part of my plan at all. But as the men with the pointy sticks all seemed to agree that it was a good idea, then I had to agree. Now I was going to have to do it after all. Oh well.

  “All right, but you leave that spear off my ship.”

  The suit seemed reluctant.

  “Regulations forbid it,” I insisted. He gave the spear to one of his friends, and climbed aboard. “Stand back, everyone,” I called and closed the entry hatch. Sealing the ship against that lot outside made me feel a lot safer. I turned around to see the suit vanishing up the circular staircase to the living area. I chased him, and found him poking around my quarters.

  “So this is a spaceship?” he asked me.

  Such a clearly inane comment deserved no reply.

  “I thought it would be a bit more, well, high-tec somehow. Flashing lights and banks of computers, stuff like that.”

  “No, this is the area where I have to live, not where I fly the bird.”

  “You live in here? Like this?” he kicked moodily at a small pile of unwashed clothes. As I didn’t have many clothes on board, the pile was really insignificant.

  “I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”

  “I can see that. Anyway, can I see the controls?”

  “Access to the flight deck is restricted to authorised personnel,” I told him pompously. “But you can come and watch when we fly. Just touch nothing, okay?”

  “Sure. You’re the boss.”

  “In here, don’t you forget it or you will kill us both.”

  I led the way to the flight deck, and jumped into the pilot’s seat. Suit man peered eagerly over my shoulder as I powered up the Speedbird, and turned on all the vidscreens and comms channels. He jumped as the room filled with the chatter of various Imperium units.

  “How come you can hear them?” he asked, suspiciously.

  “It’s open radio. Anyone can listen in. They just don’t think that you have the capability, since they have defeated your military capability on this planet.”

  “But now we have you, and this ship!” he said enthusiastically. “We can hit back!”

  I eyed him askance. “No, you don’t. And no, you can’t. This is a one off mission for the CEO.”

  I increased the power, and the Speedbird shook a little as she pulled free from the sand. The ground and the assorted rabble vanished in the sandstorm created by the engines. I stopped the ascent below a hundred feet, and hung there, checking the engine management controls and instrument readings. All seemed well, so I added some power and we moved off.

  “Why aren’t we shooting up into the sky?”

  “Because, you QIp qoH, the Imperium would spot us on the spot, so to speak.”

  “Oh. Didn’t think of that. Don’t you get a good view from up here?”

  As we were so close to the tops of the trees that I occasionally had to steer around a particularly impressive sp
ecimen, I ignored that. We flew on for an hour, by which time suit man had become bored and had slumped down in a corner. At last a hint of civilisation stirred, with a few houses and other buildings appearing below. I kicked suit man until he woke up, which gave me a perverse feeling of satisfaction.

  “Where are we?” he demanded.

  “In the Speedbird, of course, you QIp qoH.”

  “There’s no need for that Klingon invective.”

  “I’ll switch to Rigellian or Vogon, if you prefer.”

  “Can you? Really?”

  “Oh, shut up. Look, we are getting close to this city. Where do I land, do you reckon?”

  “We could set down near the station, and take the transport system into the city?”

  I thought about that. It wasn’t a bad idea. “The problem though is leaving the Speedbird. If anything happens to it, we are stuck, aren’t we?”

  “What’s going to happen to it? You can lock the door, can’t you?”

  I just looked at him. “This is a Free Union Scoutship, if the Imperium’s forces see it what do you think is going to happen to it?”

  “Oh, Sorry. Didn’t think. Listen, my cousin has a storage yard a mile or two to the east. If you set down in his yard, then we could hide your spaceship until we get back.”

  That was a bit better. Suit man gave me directions, and we flew across the city outskirts at or sometimes below roof top height until we could set down safely in the large storage yard. There was plenty of aerial traffic around, but the activity seemed to be confined to the area around the spaceport as the Imperium brought in troops to consolidate its hold on the planet. The yard was full of scrap and junk of all sorts, shapes and sizes. I let the Speedbird drift over as close to a huge stack of scrap metal as I dared, then touched down, leaving the engines ticking over.

  “Brilliant flying!” exclaimed suit man.

  I preened slightly, always a sucker for praise. “Not too shabby, I agree.”

  “I’ll go and find my cousin. Won’t be long.”

  I followed suit man down into the entry hatch and let him out, then closed up the hatch and secured the ship. Returning to the flight deck, I activated all the vidscreens and watched and waited. And waited. And waited.