Pirates of the Dark Nebula (Hearts in Orbit Book 2)

by S. C. Mitchell

  “Captain Devenport.” Rik fought to keep his tone even, though disgust coiled in his gut. “You have one of the most up to date scanning systems at your disposal. Surely you know where we are.”

  “Screw that, Rik.” Her pitch climbed a notch. “We can’t be where my instruments are saying we are. It’s not possible. So where the frack are we? What have you done?”

  Behind Kristin, Rik made out two of her most trusted aides. Men he knew loyal to Kristin to the death. Both were looking away from her. Toward other crew members perhaps?

  Rik struggled to keep a smile from spreading across his face. Mutiny was fermenting aboard The McCaffrey. He could feel it, see it in Kristin’s eyes.

  He took a deep breath.

  He would love to see her struggle, perhaps be overthrown by one of the other factions onboard her ship, but this was not the time or place. They were alone out here, quite possibly the only humans in this galaxy. She needed him right now, but there was every possibility he’d need her just as much.

  “We are indeed in the Andromeda galaxy,” he said. “How we got here, I have no idea. But as you know, I have onboard my ship two of the greatest minds in our galaxy. They are working on the situation as we speak. I propose a truce while we sort out our situation.”

  Kristin’s eyes darkened. “I wouldn’t trust you—”

  “Any more than I trust you, Kristin.” Rik kept his voice calm. “But we have no idea—”

  “Captain.” Kyra’s tone reflected urgency. “There is a fleet of ships approaching from starboard.”

  Kristin’s mouth curled into a half smile. “Rik, is this a joke?”

  Someone mumbled something off screen, and Kristin’s eyes widened.

  “No joke, Captain Devenport.” Rik narrowed his gaze. “Do we have that truce?”

  “For now, Rik. For now.” She severed the connection.

  Rik turned the ship so it was facing the approaching fleet. “How many, and what configuration.”

  Kyra’s fingers flew over her keyboard. “Thirteen ships, sir. All small, Viper class in size, but not of any configuration the ship’s computer recognizes. Possibly single-manned craft or drones.”

  “Send out a wide-band hailing message, saying we are on a peaceful mission, in all known galactic languages.”

  Do these creatures speak any of them? Will they understand? If only he knew.

  First contact with an alien race was always dicey. Here he was on their turf, and the Andromeda aliens had all the advantages.

  Rik hit the intercom, connecting to his cabin. “Ms. Callista, I need you and Harvey on the bridge as soon as you can get here.”

  “I . . . yes, sir.”

  Rik watched on the monitor as eight of the approaching ships broke off, heading for The McCaffery. The other five continued toward The Starboard Mist.

  As the lead ship approached, it fired a blue substance. The glowing matter changed form as it flew, like a blob of themplefruit jelly sliding across a tilted plate.

  “Some kind of plasma energy,” Markus offered. “It’s a weapon.”

  Okay, so not friendly.

  Kyra had a hand to her earpiece. “There are communications flowing into those craft, but I can’t make out anything that’s being said.”

  With no way to negotiate, Rik refused to just stand and be shot at. “Mr. Tyson, Mr. Stout, fire at will.”

  “Ms. Jansky, get me The McCaffrey.” When the channel to the pirate craft opened, Rik said. “Captain Devenport, you’ve got hostiles incoming. Take ‘em out.”

  He didn’t wait for Kristin’s response.

  The elevator doors opened and Luna staggered in wide-eyed, with Harvey in tow. “What’s going on, Captain?”

  The blue blob hit the forward shields, rocking the ship. At the same instant, two of the other alien ships fired their plasma weapons.

  “Front shields at forty-five percent, Captain. We can’t take another hit like that,” Pyxis reported.

  “We won’t have to,” Rik heard Quatrain say through clenched teeth. Phason beams shot from The Starboard Mist directed toward the two plasma bombs. Both exploded before ever reaching the ship.”

  “Nice shooting, boy.” Markus hit the fire button on an armed photon torpedo, locking it on the lead craft, and sending it flying.

  Rik turned to Luna and Harvey. “Harvey, monitor all communications. See if you can figure out their language. What they’re saying.”

  “Affirmative, Captain Mazar.” Harvey sat down at one of the bridge workstations.

  “Ms. Callista, I want you to try and snag me one of those ships with the tractor beam and drag it into the hanger bay. I want to know what we’re dealing with.”

  Luna nodded, seating herself at another station.

  His plan sounded good until he analyzed it further. Frack. “Mr. Tyson—”

  “I will attempt to disable that ship’s weapons as soon as I see Ms. Callista’s tractor beam lock.”

  Gods, that kid is fast. “Thank you, Mr. Tyson.”

  Quatrain’s hands moved with precision over his controls. Phason beams shot at a steady rate, taking out plasma bombs, or striking the attacking ships.

  Rik looked to Tina la Cross. He had no need of navigation right now. “Ms. la Cross, go put together a boarding party to secure that ship when it comes in.

  Tina rose and headed for the elevator. “Aye, Captain.”

  Markus’s first photon torpedo connected with the lead alien ship, and it disintegrated. He launched a second missile moments later.

  The four remaining attackers broke from their formation, flying seemingly random patterns, while still closing on The Starboard Mist and firing their plasma weapons. Markus’s second torpedo missed its mark, exploding harmlessly in space beyond.

  “I have one, Captain.” Luna’s tone was filled with trepidation.

  “Bring ‘em in, Ms. Callista.” Rik brought up the weaponry display on his workstation. “Mr. Tyson. I am taking the starboard blaster. You will keep the port gun on that ship and burn anything that looks like a weapon but don’t blow it up. Understood?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The three remaining alien ships were now in close to The Starboard Mist, making them harder to track and hit. All three fired their plasma bombs at the same time, and Rik was hard pressed to even bring the phason canon to bear on the first. Firing twice, the beams sliced through space, to strike the blue blob and destroy it. He pulled the control down, to target the second, squeezing off three shots in the general direction of the second bomb. The satisfaction of seeing the second one disintegrate was overshadowed by the fact he’d lost sight of the third.

  “Brace for impact,” he managed to shout, just before the blue blob connected with the shields. The force barrier glowed blue, blots like lightning streaking across the invisible wall, then the blob, though greatly reduced in size, continued toward the ship.

  The Starboard Mist rocked with the impact. Kayra and Pyxis were thrown from their station chairs. Rik held on and found one of the attacking ships in his targeting scope. Pulling the trigger, he got the satisfaction of seeing the ship explode.

  He punched the intercom. “Damage Report, Mr. Pinder.”

  Thurban’s voice came back strong. “We’re fine for now. Port side thruster took a bit of a ding. I got Pollix on it. Wasat’s workin’ on getting your shields back up, but that’ll take a while.”

  A sigh escaped Rik’s lips. Could have been a lot worse.

  “The alien ship is in the docking bay, and secured,” Luna reported.

  Rik punched the intercom button to the docking bay. “It’s all yours, Ms. la Cross. Be careful.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Tina’s voice held a note of confidence. “Opening the can now.”

  “And M
r. Tyson,” Rik said, “I am surrendering back the portside blaster. Please take those two remaining bastards out.”

  Quatrain smiled. “With pleasure, sir.”

  The rest of the engagement was short. Rik watched, pride filling his heart, as Quatrain destroyed every blast the two remaining alien ships fired toward them, then obliterated one of the vessels. The second broke off its attack and turned to escape.

  “Not today,” he heard Quatrain whisper, as the big blasters realigned with the alien’s rear engines. Twin beams shot out and the ship disappeared in a fiery cloud.

  A cheer and collective sigh resounded through the bridge, but Rik didn’t take time to enjoy it. He brought up the display of The McCaffrey.

  Electricity crackled around two large holes in her lower hull. He could detect beams still shooting out from the ship, and at least three of the alien ships flying around the big vessel.

  “We’re not done yet,” he told the bridge crew.

  The pirates’ lax standards had probably found them unprepared for the attack.

  Rik put The Starboard Mist on an intercept vector. “Mr. Tyson, Mr. Stout, work your magic.”

  As they closed on the alien ships, Quatrain once again rained fire on the small attack vessels as Markus launched more photon torpedoes, cleaning up the last three with ease. Their skills blended together nicely. “Good work gentlemen.”

  “Of course,” Quatrain answered, all attitude.

  Rik hid his smile.

  The fire in Kristin’s eyes and the scowl across her face spoke volumes when Rik finally established a connection to The McCaffrey.

  “Damage, Captain Devenport?” He’d try to keep this all business.

  Kristin blanched. “Two hull breaches, fifteen dead, another twenty injured. What the hell were those things?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ve captured one and will be analyzing it.”

  Kristin’s eyes went wide. “You captured one . . . in the heat of battle? How the hell?”

  Rik resisted smirking. “We used our tractor beam and pulled it in.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip as her eyes glazed over. Wished you’d thought of that move, don’t you Kristin.

  “Look,” she said, “we took a lot of damage. How did your ship fair?”

  Like you care. Though she probably wanted to know if she had any advantage over him. “We’re fine for now. Get your ship fixed up, and keep vigilant. There may be more of those things around.”

  Kristin cringed and Rik severed the connection.

  “Harvey?” Rik turned to the droid. “Have you had any luck analyzing those communications?”

  “I’ve found no discernible language patterns yet, sir.” The droid didn’t look up from his workstation. “There is one peculiarity though. All communications went into the ships. There were no transmissions out of the ships.”

  “None?”

  “No, sir. One-way communication only from somewhere out of our scanning range into the ships. I doubt whoever was on the other end even knows what happened to them, though they may know they no longer exist. The frequencies used were very non-standard.”

  “Hmm.” Rik pondered that. “I wonder—”

  “Captain.” Tina’s voice crackled over the intercom. “We’ve secured the alien ship. You and Luna might want to get down here.”

  Chapter 25

  Cockroach. One of the few old Earth creatures to survive the many extinctions over the centuries, and the one most people wish had died out.

  Luna’s gorge rose. Because the thing seated in the control center of the alien ship looked amazingly similar to a man-sized cockroach.

  “Pretty disgusting, right?” Tina had her blaster pointed at the thing, though it wasn’t moving.

  Rik’s visage was grim. “That’s what we’re up against? Bugs?”

  “Is it alive?” Luna’s gaze swept the motionless creature from the whip-like antennae to the spiny hairs on its segmented legs.

  “Hasn’t so much as twitched since we boarded the ship,” Tina said. “My bet is it’s dead. Maybe doesn’t breath oxygen. Didn’t take the time to analyze the air that came hissing out when we blew the hatch.”

  “I can’t fault you on that,” Rik said. He stepped toward the alien and nudged an arm with his blaster. There was no reaction.

  Curiosity won over Luna’s revulsion. “Alive or dead, we’re going to want to study it.”

  Tina nodded. “I’ll have some of the men wrap it up and put it in cold storage.”

  Luna’s gaze shifted to the ship.

  Combustion, probably liquid fuel. The bug’s technology seemed behind human scientific advancement, at least in starship design. Ion drive snub fighters would be able to fly rings around these ships.

  The controls were simple and straight forward for someone with Luna’s training. If I had four arms I could fly this thing.

  The extra arms did give the bugs a bit of an evolutionary advantage.

  Luna realized she was sizing the bugs up as adversaries. Well, they did attack us unprovoked.

  The Milky Way hadn’t produced an intelligent insectoid race. What would their culture be like? She had no basis to extrapolate from. There was a lot of science and exploration that could be done here if a reliable way to get back and forth between galaxies could be established. We got here, so others should be able to. But can we get back?

  She put her hand on Rik’s shoulder. “I’d like to check in on the data run, if you don’t need me.” She’d also have to see if Ian was up to helping her.

  A half smile graced his face. “I’ll always need you . . . but no, go. See what you can find out.”

  “A rip in the fabric of the time/space continuum?” Luna struggled to get her mind around Ian’s theory.

  Ian shook his head. “Rip isn’t the right concept. A shortcut . . . tunnel, from one place to another using all four dimensions. Look.”

  He pulled a stylus from the data pad and drew a wave pattern. “Think Thompkins theorem of antimatter wave skipping.”

  Luna nodded. “Time as the fourth dimension. All of existence becomes radio waves.”

  “Exactly.” Ian’s excitement was becoming infectious.

  Butterflies fluttered in Luna’s stomach. “A hyper jump goes up or down one of the wave lengths, placing a ship farther along the plane than it could travel at ion drive speeds. In effect, slowing the temporal space around the ship, causing the vessel to move faster than light. Still, it travels along the wave. There’s no way to change the distance. The X-Y axis remains constant.”

  Ian drew a line straight through the center of the wave pattern. “So what if a method was discovered to move horizontally, piercing the wall of the upper flow and connecting directly to the downward plane.”

  And Luna saw it. “Tygate’s wormhole theorem.”

  Ian’s eyes lit and he nodded. “Exactly. A spatial wormhole. I believe we have just proven old Philip Tygate’s theorem.”

  “So how did we create a wormhole? And can we recreate it?”

  He brought up another display and Luna’s breath caught. He’d already half designed the apparatus.

  “The key is the syngonal mixing with the gandisol. Who in their right mind would do that, right?”

  “It’s completely unstable. I saw proof of that during the accident.” Luna shivered at the thought of how close she’d been to the volatile mixture.

  Ian pointed to various diagrams on his plan. “But in those precious microseconds before it starts breaking down, if it encounters antimatter, like that in the warp core . . .”

  It made sense. Both fuel lines had been severed. Some of the gandisol must have leaked into the syngonal stream and if the mixture stayed homogeneous long enough to encounter the antimatter in the warp cor
e . . . well, something would have resulted.

  It’s a miracle the whole ship didn’t vaporize.

  “So we simply have to recreate the wormhole here, in the same approximate space, to get home.”

  Ian smiled. “Yes. Though I dare say, expecting a piece of space debris to hit us at just the right moment and sever two fuel lines would be testing our luck to the extreme. We were fortunate to have survived the catastrophe.”

  Luna nodded, waiting for Ian. It was always this way, working with him. His flair for the dramatic was just something she’d learned to live with. She’d be willing to bet he’d already solved the random actuarial.

  “So, I’ve come up with this workaround.” He pointed out the porthole. “That planetoid off the starboard side of the ship will serve as an anchor, and a necessary safety precaution in setting up our apparatus, as this would be far too dangerous to activate within the ship. We must stay somewhat in this proximity to get back to where we came from, so that planetoid is the key to opening a wormhole back to our galaxy and creating our gateway back home.”

  Rik paced in front of the bed in sickbay. The occupant still looked like hell.

  Carter Arcturus pulled in a deep breath, and folded his arms across his chest. “Really, Captain Mazar, I’m fine. Just a few bumps and scratches.”

  Fleet trained tough soldiers, but this went beyond. Carter should have been dead . . . twice.

  “So tell me, how did you manage to escape the Pluton station when it blew?” It wasn’t that Rik didn’t trust the man, but he was curious.