by B. V. Larson
“Dalton, take evasive action.”
We all watched in relative quiet as the battleship swung about and trained her big guns on us. Her shields were back up to full strength already. There was nothing wrong with her power couplings, that was for sure.
As the enemy powered up her guns, it was impossible not to feel that the wrath of God was about to strike us dead. One direct hit from those guns at this range…
The enemy didn’t wait for every turret to come to life before firing. As soon as they had one bank active, they took the shot.
Dalton was jerking us around in a random pattern for all he was worth. He didn’t use the computer do it, either. He danced his hands over the controls, giving us varied lateral motions that would have made everyone aboard sick if it wasn’t for the anti-grav systems and the inertial dampeners.
Bolts of radiation reached out toward us, made visible by software. There were four finger-like lines drawn between their ship and ours. Any one of them might strike us dead-on and end our lives in an instant.
But they didn’t. They sang all around us, and we danced between them like an insect evading flames.
A cheer went up, but it was short-lived. The battleship had three more primary turrets and they were all aiming, charging up—
“Phasing out!” Miller called.
“Drop shields,” I called out. “Dalton, get us—”
I didn’t need to give the order. We were diving in what felt like a downward trajectory, moving with violence away from the enemy. A dozen more bolts passed through space behind us, striking nothing.
We’d evaded death once again, but we weren’t out of the woods yet.
“More rifts are opening,” Chang said. “All around us.”
“They sent through their largest vessel first,” Gwen said. “Almost as if they expected an ambush.”
“Maybe Lael warned them we had a phase-ship in the mix,” I suggested.
She looked at me sharply. “Lael did this? We should eject her into space immediately.”
“We aren’t Imperials, XO,” I said. “We’re civilized, remember?”
She looked away, grinding her teeth. I couldn’t blame her.
We spent the next half hour evading ships. They came out, joined in tight formation, but then spread out to patrol when they realized we weren’t going to hit them again.
“They’ll find us eventually,” Dalton said. “There have been at least six close calls.”
“Chang?” I called out. “Where is our Hunter friend?”
“It’s almost here, Captain. The Imperials don’t seem to be concerned. I would assume they’re equipped with friend-or-foe identifiers and believe themselves to be safe.”
“Right,” I said, nodding thoughtfully. “Miller, turn on our friend-or-foe system—just for a few seconds.”
Miller did as I asked, but he looked at me seriously. “Captain, the Imperials might be able to detect the signal.”
“I think they can. Switch it off again.”
He did, and we waited nervously. Gravimetric sensors soon began to sound warnings. The Imperial ships were nosing closer to us again.
“Have you got a reading on that Hunter?” I asked Chang again.
“Yes… she’s changed course. She’s heading to this spot.”
“Dalton, change heading. Get us as far from here as you can.”
“Straight lines are dangerous, Captain.”
“Do it.”
We ran. It was risky, as we laid down no random patterns. If the enemy was tracking us somehow, they’d easily be able to predict our likely position and unload a volley of fire to catch us. It would still take some luck, but—
“Captain!” Chang cried out. “I’m reading gravity pulses all around us.”
“Those are Imperial ships. Dalton, read them like a map and evade.”
They’d finally turned on their friend-or-foe systems, assuming they would protect them from the approaching Hunter. Apparently, it was getting too close for comfort.
The fireworks began soon after that—but they weren’t directed toward us.
“The battleship we engaged earlier…” Chang said. “It’s hard to tell when we’re phased out, but I’m getting two readings from her hull now. I think she’s broken up.”
We all dared to grin. The Hunter was in their midst, striking at them with abandon.
My trap had finally been sprung.
=68=
The battle turned into a slaughter. The Imperial ships were either outmatched, or unprepared to fight with a Hunter.
I’d understood from Lael they had ways of defeating such enemies, but perhaps she’d been boasting. Or, maybe it took a much larger specialized force.
Whatever the case, it wasn’t long before the enemy forgot about searching for my phase-ship and began to run from the Hunter. After ten minutes, nothing but a debris field was left behind us. A few floating life-pods could be detected, sending out emergency signals. The Imperials that had survived had fled.
The Hunter ignored the survivors. It turned, inexorably, toward the planets that were at the center of the star system. Perhaps it tried to form a rift, but couldn’t due to the warp dissipater. The Imperial vessels that had survived its onslaught could travel using rifts, and they took the opportunity to retreat to their home planets.
“What’s it going to do?” Dalton asked.
“Just watch,” Samson said. “I have a hunch.”
We did watch it. Drifting, it seemed lost in thought. It reminded me of a slow-minded cleaning robot from home, a machine faced with a surprise. It was weighing its options, testing cases over and over and timing out.
“Maybe it’s looking for nearby signals,” Miller said. “This is fascinating.”
“That’s probably it,” Chang added. “It senses more enemies—but they’ve all escaped. A computer program would be trying to work out the shortest path to the fleeing enemy.”
“Maybe it’s trying to make a rift over and over again, but failing,” Samson suggested.
In the end, the Hunter fired up its massive engines again and spun around. It headed toward the nearest of the rifts left behind by the Imperial ships.
“That’s it, you big prick,” Dalton said in a breathy voice. “I love it. Rain down destruction on their worlds! Make them hurt the way we do when they use our planets for target practice!”
I found it difficult to feel his bloodlust, but I understood it. The Imperials had heartlessly killed so many Kher. There were lifeless planets by the hundreds in their wake.
The massive ship vanished into a rift, riding the stellar flux to its endpoint. We could no longer follow the action, as the central planets were many light-hours away and beyond the capacity of our sensors to view.
But whatever was happening, it was no longer our problem. The Imperials were no doubt lighting up every local world with signals meant to repel the big ship—all the while unknowingly summoning it to destroy them.
Seeing the pods out there floating in space around us, I got an idea. I headed toward the main passage and went below.
Gwen caught up with me on the mid-deck.
“You can’t do it, Leo,” she said.
“What?”
“You can’t save all those Imperials floating around out there. We haven’t got the room aboard—hell, we don’t have enough oxygen production to let them even breathe here. One of them might be carrying equipment to send out signals the way Captain Lael did—.”
I put up a hand. “That’s not my intention,” I told her.
“I saw you looking out there at their life pods. They didn’t give you any ideas?”
“They did, actually. Now, return to the bridge and take command. That’s an order.”
She reluctantly did as I’d asked, shaking her head.
For my own part, I was almost insulted. Did I look like such a softie? Was I a do-gooder who trusted any and all enemies I ran into?
Perhaps I gave that impression, but my intenti
ons were very different today.
Reaching the lowest deck, I found Lael’s cell. As they’d been ordered to do, her jailors were keeping their distance.
“Open it,” I told my new chief.
He moved quickly to obey. He didn’t even ask me why.
Lael looked at me with a strange expression when the door opened.
“I heard the battle,” she said. “What happened?”
“Your fleet was destroyed. Most of it, anyway.”
She stared in shock. “I don’t believe it.”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe. Your stay here aboard Hammerhead is at an end.”
Lael got up, and although she struggled we dragged her out of her cell.
“To the airlock, Captain?” asked the new chief. His face was pale, but he looked determined. I knew he would kill her if I asked him to right now, and I found that disturbing.
“No,” I said. “To the pods.”
She struggled, but she was no match. We dragged her to the life pods, pushed her into one, and tossed her wand in after her.
Lael picked up the wand, looking at it wonderingly. “You’re releasing me? Is this some kind of exchange? Have you made a deal with my people?”
“Not exactly,” I said, “but if you’re lucky, you might survive the experience.”
We slammed the hatch shut and fired the pod out into space. The walls rumbled briefly with the gush of escaping gasses.
The last I saw of Captain Lael was an angry, desperate face in the triangular window of her spinning pod. Then she was gone into the endless night of deep space.
“There’s only enough air, water and food in these pods for two weeks,” the chief said.
“Like I said,” I told him, “she has to be lucky.”
When I returned to the bridge, my crew gave me surreptitious glances. Gwen seemed particularly disturbed.
“We’re chasing Killer,” she said. “I took the liberty of phasing back in and contacting Ursahn. She’ll coast until we catch up. We should dock in about four hours.”
“Is Killer able to form a rift yet?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “We have to be farther from the central sun. It might take weeks to reach a distance that allows us to escape the effect.”
I nodded.
She stood near my chair and spoke in a quiet voice. “Captain? Did you kill Lael?”
“No,” I said. “You should know that. Why would I waste a pod if that were my intention?”
She shrugged. “Well… some thought that it would give you the plausible deniability you’ve mentioned in the past.”
Frowning, I turned to face her. “Really? That’s what you think? That I shot her in the head and pushed her body into a pod to cover my own ass?”
She didn’t meet my eyes. “I wouldn’t say she didn’t deserve it.”
“Hmm…” I said. “Sounds like Dalton’s idea of a good time, not mine. But don’t worry, I kicked her off my ship because she’s a bad influence. She nearly got us all killed, and she messed with the minds of two good men. I can’t afford that—not out here. Space is too unforgiving, especially in this neck of the woods.”
“Are you sure she didn’t corrupt three good men?” she asked.
She walked away before I could think of a reply.
* * *
About twenty hours later, we were docked with Killer and making good speed away from the Imperial star system.
I was asleep with Mia’s head on my chest when an insistent chiming began. She reached out a hand and slapped the chime off—but it came back on again, almost immediately.
“What is it?” I asked in a froggy voice after slapping my own hand against the wall and activating it.
“Captain—we have a situation.”
“On my way.”
Climbing out of bed I began dragging on my clothes.
“They can’t do that,” Mia said. “They can’t order you around. You’re the captain.”
“Yes, I’m the captain,” I agreed. “But that means I have responsibilities.”
“You’ve only been with me for three hours. I’m tired and unsatisfied.”
I chuckled and pulled on my pants. “Do you want me to tell Gwen to run the ship through this emergency? So you can go back to sleeping on me?”
She thought about it. “That would nice—but no. I hate Gwen. She wants you all the time—even when she doesn’t want you.”
“Okay then,” I said, ramming my feet into grav-boots. “I’m going to the bridge. I’ll call you if there’s something out there that needs shooting.”
“I hope you do.”
I left Mia asleep a few minutes later and headed to the bridge. I yawned uncontrollably until I saw what was on the screens.
“Where…?” I asked. “Where did the Imperial worlds go?”
“Two of their planets have been attacked by the Hunter,” Miller said. “One is damaged, and one appears to have been destroyed. Killer is feeding us the long-range sensor data.”
My sleepiness left me in an instant. “Contact Ursahn.”
“Channel open.”
Using my sym, I made the conversation a private one.
For her part, Ursahn was all smiles. She greeted me with a joy in her eyes I couldn’t recall ever having seen before.
“Captain Blake,” she said, “you are a miracle-worker!”
“The Hunter is eating their planets, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it would seem so. At last, the Nomads are getting the revenge they’ve sought for countless years. Now, what can I do for you?”
There was no point in trying to explain my mood to her. She was a predator, an eater of flesh. Dead enemies weren’t something to mourn in her version of morality. Not even a planet full of them.
“I think we should try creating a rift now,” I suggested.
“Ah—you think their dissipater may have been on one of those worlds? I’ll try it!” A low chuckle escaped her deep chest. “Crafty primates,” she muttered to herself and shook her head. The signal ended.
Less than ten minutes later, a rift opened in front of our two ships. I didn’t know where it led, and I didn’t much care.
We plunged into it and left Imperial space behind us.
=69=
We scattered twice more on the way back to home space, taking nearly a week to reach Epsilon Aurigae. We returned to the battle station where we’d been given our impossible assignment to confront Fex.
We didn’t go alone, however. Ursahn had taken the precaution of visiting a world deep in Rebel territory that contained many government officials. Before we headed to the battle station, we picked up one of these officials—a friendly one.
This official was known to me. He was none other than Dr. Shug—now elevated to the title of Secretary Shug.
“Mr. Secretary,” Ursahn said, dropping to all fours briefly then standing erect again. I figured it was something like a bow for her people, so I dipped my head as well.
Shug seemed very pleased. He was a sneaky little primate. A hairball about five feet tall and as full of tricks as any I’d yet to meet. He was a scientist by trade, but he’d managed to take enough status points from Admiral Fex to gain the job he’d wanted so badly.
The prospect of visiting Fex to rub his nose in this fact seemed to give him nothing but pleasure.
“Captains Blake and Ursahn,” Shug said. “I hear congratulations are in order. You’ve managed to defeat a Hunter. That’s quite an accomplishment. I’d love to hear how you did it.”
We were all aboard Killer on the command deck. Settling to his haunches, Shug perched on one of the stump-like seats in Ursahn’s office. For him, it was like sitting on a table rather than a chair.
Ursahn and I exchanged glances.
“Uh…” I said. “You haven’t been briefed on those details?” I asked.
“No. Ursahn insisted that you be allowed to explain your methods in person.” Shug turned to me expectantly.
I wasn’t
sure what to say. The truth crossed my mind, of course, but I knew that if Ursahn had wanted to go that route she would have done so herself in order to take full credit.
On the other hand, if she thought Shug would disapprove for some reason, then it made sense that she would keep Shug in the dark until I explained it all.
Both of them looked at me with questioning eyes.
Sensing a trap, I threw up my hands, making both of them flinch. Rapid movement of the limbs was often a prelude to an attack among the Kher.
“I’m sorry, sirs,” I said. “As much as I’d like to take the credit, I have to confess that it all belongs to Ursahn. After all, she was in full command of this mission.”
“Surely, you’re being overly generous,” Ursahn said uneasily.
“No, no,” I said—“I’m not. Mr. Secretary sir, this fine officer was our mastermind at every turn. She got us out of one impossible jam after another. It wouldn’t be right that—”
“Yes, yes,” Shug said impatiently. He gave Ursahn a slight frown. “Tell me then—how did you do it?”
Trapped by her own sense of duty and slower wits, she began to explain. By the end, Shug looked alarmed.
“You… you caused an entire Imperial star system to be consumed?” he demanded before she’d finished.
“That’s right,” I said exuberantly. “Isn’t it amazing? A blow has been struck for the Rebels! One that the Imperials won’t soon forget!”
Shug looked from one of us to the next.
“Are you mad?” he demanded. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re mad-things! Diseased of the mind! The Imperials will never stand for this!”
At last, I began to feel sorry for Ursahn. She had the look of a dog that had just gotten its nose rubbed in something.
“Secretary Shug,” I said, “we had no choice. It was a matter of survival. And besides, we didn’t know exactly how events would go. We were simply trying to get the Hunter away from Rebel space.”
“Insanity…” Shug muttered. “It’s worse than I thought. You haven’t explained this fiasco to anyone else yet, have you?”
“No sir,” Ursahn said unhappily.
“Good... Keep it that way. I can’t afford to lose you two—even if you are mad-things.”
