by Casey Lea
Darsey opened her eyes to a familiar view of tousled dark hair and made no effort to stifle a curse. Waking this close to Nightwing had never been more unwelcome. His eyelids flickered to show brief crescents of gold, but before she could frown in response their amber light disappeared. His eyes vanished, lost in a white glare.
Darsey stiffened and her own eyes opened fully to look past the last images from her sleep. Her dreams disappeared and she was alone, in the cell that Greon had delightedly escorted her to when she was returned to the Bandit. She was staring at a blank, white wall and her pulse slowed when she realized she would never wake beside Nightwing again. Instead she was held in full view of the entire crew. Her cell was the only occupied chamber on the inner wall of the nest, where prisoners could be easily watched and taunted.
Darsey shut her eyes once more, avoiding the bleak sight of that freshly lit wall. She ignored the signal to start a new day and ignored the crew beginning their shift behind her. She put particular effort into ignoring Nightwing, who should be settling into his usual seat. She hoped that he noticed and that it hurt, before realising she was being foolish. The creep didn’t give a damn about her. And she was equally oblivious to him. He could crash and burn, while she toasted marshmallows over the wreckage.
Wing tried very hard to ignore Darsey, but it was proving impossible. Her brightly lit cell was straight across the nest from his station and she was still trying to sleep, in total view of the mainshift crew. He chewed his lips, before turning away. He had to admit that he was irritable and increasingly moody, before he could force himself to look back to his work. He sat straight and tense in his nest seat, but the stream of data directed to his eyes vanished. It was replaced by a blade-stiff back, half covered in soft waves of red hair. Was she really still sleeping, or much worse, trapped in a listless depression?
“Nightwing!” Leader Greon’s curt tone penetrated his abstraction. “Do something about it.”
“What, sah?” asked Wing, cursing his inattention, and his Leader snarled, showing a sharp canine.
“I’ve seen that look in kres before. You’ve met the female you wish to breed to, so do something about it. Do the marriage, or mating, or whatever your damned monogamous race does. I won't have you distracted by this. Understood?”
“Understood, sah,” Wing answered crisply, relieved that Greon had mistaken the cause of his vagueness.
“Good. Now, while I’m privileged to have your attention, a freighter convoy awaits us.” He paused in response to Wing’s blank look. “Did you see any-all of what you just scanned? Most especially that automated convoy of kres riches? Hmmm? Lay in a course and make it fast. I want to snatch them all in a single pass and loop straight for point. This is too in-system for my comfort.”
Wing swung back to his console and considered the unexpected theft with growing excitement. The logistics of successfully snagging even one freighter at speed were daunting and not many nav seniors could have handled it. The control needed to tractor an entire convoy would demand his full concentration. Perfect. Darsey is out of my thoughts from now-
Wing abruptly realized that he was again staring at her cell and made another effort to focus his attention. A rising vector at point seven warp, mmm… He belatedly settled to his task, making the train of automated freighters leap closer with startling speed.
“Concentrate,” snarled Greon, but the word and the blow accompanying it were for Hazleean, who had been newly promoted to Data Senior. She whimpered and the leader cursed half-mutt mermaridian in scathing terms. She threw Wing a panicked look, but for once he was too busy to distract the leader. He just hoped she’d manage to remember Jileea’s briefing for inner system defense scans.
“Sah,” Wing finally interrupted and the DS hiccupped with relief when Greon turned away. “Snatch in ten seconds. Everyone sharp. I want pick-up and stasis on my mark, with a full power burn at these settings. Coming in... nice and steady. It’s looking well. Here we go, people. Three, two, one, now.’
His hands and mind flew through the images his console projected and the ship responded smoothly. The Bandit burned along the length of the convoy frighteningly fast and so close that even at its suicidal speed the tractor field could envelop the line of merchant haulers.
The DS whimpered again, her eyes locked to the projected ships that filled the weightless globe and seemed to stream through it. Those images dwarfed the crew and dominated the nest. A series of silver cylinders flashed past, twisting wildly in the tractor field.
They hooked the last ship and Hazleean screamed when Wing’s course swung the freighters wide beneath them and drove every console into the red. That warning glare lit the nest while the Bandit bucked so hard they could feel it despite the damping, and its metallic shrieks drowned Hazleean’s scream. A tremor ran through the hull to shake everyone aboard like dolls. They flopped helplessly until the strain activated the ship’s restraint fields.
The forces on the crew were instantly distanced, while feather-down invisibly coated every seat. Wing relaxed his muscles and whooped with delight. The engines howled, but everything held. Stars wheeled around them in exactly the pattern he had programmed. The Bandit had seized its prey in a single pass and hardly paused while doing it.
Wing slipped deeper into his seat when its protective field disappeared and a post-adrenaline slump claimed him. The engine grew quieter and the ship returned to nearly silent running, but Greon’s usual manic chuckle was overlaid by Hazleean's thin wail.
The Leader sighed and pushed himself from his chair once the automatic restraints eased. A casual kick of his foot floated him across the nest to his new Data Senior. He watched Hazleean scream with his head on one side, as though bemused by the sight. The novelty palled and he slapped her with brutal force. She stopped shrieking instantly. The sound vanished as though her throat had been cut. She stared at Greon blankly, but he simply hummed and nodded once before turning back to his Senior.
Wing held himself expressionless, but his jaw clenched, along with every muscle of his body, in an effort to stay silent and still.
“Much better,” Greon observed brightly in the sudden quiet. “Decent job, Nightwing. Remind me not to hit you for a time. I’m sure I’ll be tempted soon-”
“Ship,” yelled Wing, and Greon spun to the scan.
“Kres,” the Leader gasped, and ground his teeth. “It’s a drakking fleet trap. Dump the freighters, they’re useless.”
However, Wing had already released the decoys and the Bandit leapt forward under full power. Greon leaned over his DS and spat words in her face. “What is it?”
Hazleean struggled to analyse her scan and looked up at him helplessly. “Big?”
The Leader’s hand flicked to point his com at Jileea’s hapless replacement. The hum of blast function charging carried clearly across the nest and the quivering girl looked desperately to her Senior for help.
“Sah!”
Greon’s head snapped around at Wing’s imperative cry.
“Orders, sah? It’s closing fast – true fast, over point eight. It looks like an old Noble class ship, but they were never that quick. I’m not certain-sure what it is, but scans show us out-powered and out-gunned.”
Greon lowered his com and threw himself back into his chair. He chewed his lip until purple showed and glared at the alarming data in the air around them.
“It’s too late to reverse and go for back-point. No,” Greon finally decided, “we’re committed now. We’ll have to run deeper into kres territory and risk meeting more of their ships. Push hard for point, Nightwing, and I mean super hard. Let’s make that passage. Power plus to propulsion. Plot it as close as we can take, Senior.”
Wing punched co-ordinates and the Bandit accelerated so fast that inertia damping was overwhelmed. Several gees loaded the crew and only their seat fields saved them from injury. Wing checked the pursuit and frowned. “It likely won’t be enough, sah. We’re seriously mismatched here.”
“Suggestions?”
Wing watched his projection of their pursuer and extrapolated the fleet ship’s course. He frowned again and then smiled. Despite its speed, the other ship was too far away to be sure of catching them before they made passage. Although it seemed to be chasing them, its course was not an intercept one. Instead, it was subtly angling toward a gas giant that lay between it and point.
Wing’s smile widened when he recognised the manoeuvre. He realized the kres leader was planning to slingshot from an orbit around the planet to gain added acceleration. The extra speed would enable him to pass his prey and engage them at passage. Good move, my friend, and most familiar.
“I’ve got a plan, sah, and if I’ve read the other leader correct, it should work. He’s going to catch us, but he’ll have to commit to an orbit and once he does that we can change our figures. He’s going around the far side of X-127.3 and when he does we start braking. Hard. He’ll slingshot out using gravity to pick up speed. If we slow down, he’ll shoot past out of range. No matter how large an un-lit matter braking field he deploys, he’s still certain-sure to overshoot. If we brake with all we have, he’ll travel past point before we come into range. He'll scream by and then we can nip in behind him, to make passage before he swings back.”
Greon looked unconvinced. “When he sees he’s going to miss us, he’ll take passage himself and wait for us at far end.”
“With the speed he’ll gain, he won't be able to make passage. No, he’ll swing back and pursue. Once we reach the far end, I know how to destroy him. I’ve worked this sector times-past, but we have to get through that passage first. What thoughts, sah?”
Greon stuck out his thick lower lip and his silver eyes glinted uncertainly. “I don’t like it. How do you know he’ll commit to this orbit? We could brake our way into a longer fight than needed. If we slow down and he fails to add speed, our ruse will turn to suicide.”
“He’ll commit, sah,” Wing answered urgently. “That’s his course, that’s his plan and it’s a good one. The course deviation is subtle and most pirates would never pick it. The kres leader knows that. He pretends to chase and we run, hoping for escape. Then the fleet ship disappears, feeding that hope, so we feel safe-as. We just keep pushing for escape, but then our kres reappear, blasting out of orbit and crippling us when they scream past. After that they can swing back to make a kill at leisure.”
Greon gave him an odd look. “You seem most sure of this.”
Wing held his face very still, hiding frustration, but much more importantly, his friendship with the enemy leader. “It’s logical, sah, and truly our only hope.”
Greon chewed his lip again and considered his options. He frowned at his Senior, but Wing returned the look calmly. “If we get through to the next system, you can destroy the kres?”
“Certain-sure.”
“A Noble class ship? They were the best in their day and still far outclass this tub. Yet you’re confident we can destroy them, Senior?”
“So I swear, sah.”
Greon lifted a finger curtly. “All right, do such.”
“Yes!” Wing swung back to his console. His mind and hands danced through star charts, laying vector lines and connecting bright images with strips of light. He positioned the two ships within a system display and ran his predictions. “They’ll be committed to orbit in forty-seven seconds. I want all power to our braking thrust and all unlit matter deployed exactly then.” Wing felt sweat on his brow, but ignored it. He leaned back with an appearance of unconcern and grinned at the other nest crew. “Anyone know a good joke that lasts about forty seconds?”
Several of the crew laughed and Greon grunted, but his eyes were cold as he watched his Senior. Wing felt the enmity in that gaze and had to hide a shudder. He turned back to his hologram and immersed himself in it. The fleet ship was accelerating hard, but edging further from the Bandit’s course.
“It looks good, sah. They’re going full power and on course for that gas giant. Their options window is closing... closing... gone. They’re committed to orbit. Brake now.”
Wing kept his voice deceptively calm. He knew that the other leader was very good indeed and would start braking as soon as he realized what the Bandit was doing. Without fully knowing the other ship’s capabilities, it was impossible to predict if it would be out of range by the time they reached passage point. He wondered whether Darsey was scared, but there was no time to spare a reassuring look.
“Well, Senior?”
“Ah... yes, sah. They’re coming around the planet now and they’re scorching. Their braking field’s out, but they’ve got too much inertia to slow quickly. They’re closer to point than us now. They’re starting to slow, but it’s not enough. They’ve cleared point! They’ve overshot!”
A spontaneous cheer erupted from the crew and even Greon smiled. The tension that had gripped the nest as firmly as a restraint field vanished. The officer posted at tactical leaned across to slap Wing’s back and the Bandit’s Senior laughed, shrugging a hand in response.
A strangled cry from the weeping DS startled them all. “They’re firing!” Hazleean shrieked.
Every eye locked on her projection and they watched the highlighted path of a missile blazing toward them. “Ignore it,” growled Greon. “He’s just hoping to get lucky.”
Their Leader’s mouth had just closed when the missile struck. It detonated beyond the hull, but the concussion was enough to overwhelm inertia damping and the energy released ripped through the defensive field. A huge hand seemed to seize the ship and shake it. The nest went black and then ruptured.
Wing struggled to focus on his fluctuating display, but the darkness seemed to be spreading inside his head. He struggled against his restraints, struggled to lift a hand, struggled for air… for breath… for thought… and slumped senseless, as helpless as the rest of the crew. Vital oxygen spiralled into darkness and the ship’s warm breath formed a frosty trail that twisted through space behind it.
29
Kill Them All
