by Jeff Wheeler
I told the crew to prepare for a rescue. Maybe we couldn’t save everyone, but we could save someone.
Hush was my favorite information weasel, and the only one that I trusted enough to handle my family, so much as I trusted any of them. He was still an Alcaltan who made a living as illegally as we did, an opportunist. I just hoped he would consider our dealing with him beneficial enough to keep his end of the bargain.
Forty people, I told him, on one Alcaltan transport, to rendezvous with us on Varuna in the Kuiper Belt. I didn’t care how he got everyone on board, but it had to be safe passage for all of them, intact, without harm. To this weasel I gave enough surya that his bulbous eyes misted a milky brown in contentment, with the understanding that he would get an equal amount if the selected humans arrived safely. Alcaltans had faces like earless elephants, and Hush signaled his approval with the shaking of his long snout.
The Bloodborne had come equipped with two shuttles, both with meager weapons and limited range. They were designed to convey guests to and from a planet’s surface while theBloodborne remained in orbit, though in an emergency they can and have been used to hop between planets in the same star system. If passengers were willing to get cozy with each other, we could squeeze forty people plus crew onto two shuttles for a short trip from Varuna’s surface.
“We just need to get the Bloodborne close enough to launch them,” I told the Captain.
We stood in what had once been an Alcaltan officers’ meeting room. The ceilings were high and rounded, built for the aliens’ greater height and sense of aesthetics, but we’d torn out their furnishings and replaced them with our own, fit for human dimensions. Kellen and the Captain had often met here to discuss strategy. Now the Captain and I had a map of the greater Sol System displayed on the holo before us and I pointed him to the ovoid ball of rock that was to be our rendezvous point.
“I would have liked carrying them out farther than the Kuiper Belt, but that would have required export clearance, and it wouldn’t have been likely we could have gotten forty people past security for that.”
The Captain nodded in approval. The Alcaltans weren’t concerned about intrasystem smuggling, only between stars. A transport out in the Kuiper Belt could easily be on mining business. It was good cover. Humans had been occasionally used for that kind of labor.
“Still,” he said, “the Alcaltans have early warning probes at the edge of the star system. They’ll recognize the Bloodborne’s drive signature, even in the Kuiper Belt. The dreadnought’s too large a ship to slip by without notice.”
“Even if they have patrol ships in the area, it will take them time to react. It always has. We’ve never worried about them recognizing us before.”
“We don’t normally hit star systems this secure,” said Captain Mercer. “Earthspace is still heavily fortified from the war. They know the Bloodborne, and you can bet they will send more than six ships after us if we get close to Earthspace again, but they might not react to a different ship, especially a smaller one that isn’t on their most wanted list.”
“The frigate?” I asked.
We’d finished the retrofit, but no crew had been assigned. A few of us had gone out on test runs, and though dated by Alcaltan standards, it was perfectly serviceable for us, if a bit cozy compared to the cavernous Bloodborne.
“Caleb says the test flights have gone well,” said the Captain. “All systems check out, and he commended your handling of the bridge. Even if the Alcaltans identify it as the one stolen en route to decommissioning, they will not know that renegade humans are aboard. There’s a decent chance they will wait for you to identify yourselves.”
“Ourselves? Captain, aren’t you going—”
“The Bloodborne is my ship. This is your plan. I want you to take the frigate to Varuna and handle the rescue. You may bring enough crew to staff the key posts on your ship and maintain a security team on the ground. Volunteers only.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, my voice cracking. “Of course.”
So when I boarded the frigate for our mission and stepped onto the bridge, I did not go to the helm as my training would have suggested, but to the command dais in the center of the chamber. It had already been made over with chairs and consoles to our height. The main screen was a wide wraparound display in the Alcaltan fashion, since the aliens’ eyes rested on the sides of their heads. I would have to swivel the captain’s chair to see everything around me.
This should have been Kellen’s, I thought, as I stood looking at the high-backed chair. I had no doubt that if he’d lived, the Captain would have given him command of the frigate. Instead, the first person to sit in this chair for a real mission would be the relief pilot of the Bloodborne. I’d only helmed the ship once in combat. I wasn’t part of the Captain’s regular bridge crew.
But the rescue had been my idea. The Captain was right. I had to be the one to see it through.
My volunteer crew filed onto the bridge, taking their places in the stations that ringed mine. Valerie had the scanners, Peter was weapons lead, and Manuel, our helmsman. Hitomi was our best Alcaltan mimic, so we placed her on the comm, to delay any hostile response for as long as possible. Caleb insisted on being the frigate’s engineer. He had overseen the retrofit, so it only made sense to take him along, and he’d brought three assistants with him.
In total, we had twenty crew on board, a fifth of our entire population. We had to come back.
With a deep breath, I sat in the chair meant for Kellen and ordered us out.
* * *
Varuna loomed before us, a pale red egg tinged with crisp bits of ice. Manuel put it up on the wraparound as he guided the frigate into high orbit. It looked sedate enough, but I knew better than to trust my eyes. The planetoid itself was a blind spot, blocking our view of anything that might be hidden behind.
“Anything on the scanners?” I asked.
Valerie shook her head, barely even looking up from her console. “No ships registering in our immediate vicinity, but we’ll want to complete a full circuit around the planetoid to be sure.”
I looked at the time set to Alcaltan standard. We were early, a habit born of the need to lie in wait for our prey. It would have been nice if the transport had been early as well. I couldn’t stop the uneasy twinge in my gut, knowing that the safety of our families could not be guaranteed until they were on board with us.
“Manuel, prepare to take us down to low orbit once we finish our circuit, assuming nothing turns up. Peter, drop a missile pod.”
“Sure thing, Alexa.”
“On it, Alexa.”
I watched the pod fall away, carrying a compliment of missiles with it. It would settle into its own orbit, away from us, and ready to launch a single salvo. It was a good way to catch an enemy off guard, striking it from a direction it did not expect.
“Alexa!” said Hitomi. She cradled a hand against the ear of her headset. “There’s chatter on the Alcaltan emergency band.”
My gut turned to ice. “What’s it saying?”
“It’s hard to tell. The speaker’s very excited. Not military, but it’s trying to alert them. Something about a chase with three ships. No, four. They’re all in our sector of the belt.”
Four ships racing through the Kuiper Belt? They must be lighting up the Alcaltan warning systems like fireworks.
“Valerie! Can you find them on our long-range scan?”
“Already checking,” she said.
Manuel caught my eye but didn’t say anything. We were still in high orbit. Low orbit would hide us better from a long-range scan, but we wouldn’t be able to scan as well either, not with a planetoid blocking our view.
“Any luck?” I asked.
“Nothing yet,” she replied.
If the ships weren’t heading our way, we could ignore them. They would have nothing to do with our smuggling run. But if our transport was involved, we couldn’t afford to stand by.
“Cargo ship,” said Hitomi, eyes unfocused as s
he concentrated on the audio feed. “Mining-class transport. Smugglers on board.”
“That sounds like it could be ours,” said Peter.
“I know,” I said.
What could they have done to arouse suspicion? I thought I’d offered enough surya that there would be no reason for the smugglers to risk the safety of their passengers. We’d paid double for the forged paperwork, and Hush would not get his bonus if the transfer was not complete.
“I still don’t see them,” said Valerie.
And that meant that we couldn’t run to their rescue.
“Hitomi! Have they given out coordinates on the emergency band?”
She shook her head, but I could tell by the way she curled into herself that she did not like what she was hearing.
“A heading, please!” I said to her. “The tattler must be giving some frame of reference. Manuel, get us out of orbit. We can’t stay here.”
Valerie inhaled sharply. “Cap—” She turned to me wide-eyed, with reflexes telling her how to address the person in the captain’s chair, but Captain Mercer wasn’t here. It wasn’t even Kellen, whom we’d called Lieutenant. It was just me.
“Commander!” she said, recovering. “I’ve sighted the transport! It’s being pursued by two cruisers and a corvette.”
Peter turned in my direction. “Alexa! I can have all weapons online in two minutes. What do you want us to do?”
The energy from the charged weapons would give us away. We could handle a single corvette, the frigate was big enough for that, but against two cruisers, we were just outclassed, outgunned.
“Alexa!” someone shouted. I didn’t know who. “Alexa!”
“Commander!” Peter snapped.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing.
The odds were bad, but the Bloodborne had faced worse escaping Earth. If we didn’t try to rescue our families, they wouldn’t have any chance at all. The Alcaltans would execute them for trying to escape. We knew that.
“Valerie, you have coordinates now?” I asked.
She nodded. “Already sent to Manuel.”
“Manuel, set a course for the lead cruiser. Peter, keep the weapons offline a little longer. We need to be sure of the situation first.”
The frigate shuddered as Manuel gave us a good burn. My gut turned all sorts of somersaults, none of which had to do with the motion of spaceflight. Yes, the Bloodborne had faced worse escaping Earth, but the Bloodborne had had Captain Mercer in command.
“Valerie,” I asked, “can you bring up a combat map of the four ships on the main holo?”
“Done,” she replied.
The three-dimensional grid displayed our potential battlefield and the four ships, all of which were headed in the direction of Varuna. I grimaced. One of the ships matched up with the schematics of a Mezzen freighter. That would be our transport.
“We’re almost in missile range. How much closer are we going to get?” asked Peter. “Chances are their crews are preoccupied with trying to catch the transport. If we fire now, we’ll be able to catch them by surprise.”
“But if this isn’t our transport, we’re going to be jumping into a fight with the odds against us,” I said. “Hitomi, have they noticed us?”
She shook her head. “Nothing as far as I can tell. The emergency band has gone silent. The situation has been reported as ‘under control.’ ”
“That’s a good thing,” I said, with a confidence I didn’t feel. “It means we won’t have to deal with more than these three ships.”
Peter was right. We could fire first and strike them before they could react, but if we didn’t score a fatal hit on more than one of them, we’d still be outnumbered, and I doubted that we’d down a cruiser in an opening salvo. Those things were armored enough that we’d only bust a few bulkheads, with no guarantee we’d break through to the vitals. I couldn’t risk such an attack for less than absolute certainty of the transport’s identity, and there was no way to determine that without hailing it.
“Hitomi,” I said. “Open a channel to the Alcaltan patrol ships and ask them under what circumstances they are chasing that transport. If they need our ID, go ahead and use the real one assigned to this ship. As far as they are concerned, we are a frigate returning to Earthspace for evaluation after being retrieved from pirates. Our goal is to give ourselves an excuse to hail the transport without drawing fire from the patrol. If it’s not our transport, we’ll withdraw. You know the pass phrase.”
She nodded, hesitation melting away as she slipped into character. A languid expression crossed her face as she hit the comm and burbled out a salutation that sounded like a phlegm-filled mutter. I couldn’t follow Alcaltan as well as Hitomi did, but she did a remarkable job of sounding as though she had just stepped into an undesirable problem she could not avoid.
The exchange passed for an intense two minutes, then moved to an extended pause. Turning off her mic, Hitomi explained that the Alcaltans were verifying our ship ID.
“Are they concerned about us?” I asked.
“Not yet. Seems within protocol.”
Peter sat ramrod straight in his seat, hand resting on the lever that would power the cannons. His other hand had one finger on the comm that connected him to all the gun crews on the ship. He spoke softly, notifying them that they were on standby and should prepare to open fire on the lead cruiser at any moment. In the event that communication with him was compromised, they should assume hostilities with the Alcaltan patrol and use manual override to return fire.
“I have permission to speak with the transport,” said Hitomi. “Opening a channel now.”
She launched into another broadcast, her attitude miffed and domineering, and I knew the patrol would be listening in.
“You must have interesting cargo to come all the way out here,” she said.
After a lengthy pause, the Alcaltan freighter replied, “It is like home out here.”
Hitomi made a noncommittal statement as though nothing was amiss, but the rest of the bridge held its collective breath, the air so still that the silence was only broken by Hitomi’s inane chatter.
This was our transport!
“I’ve got target locks down the length of the lead cruiser,” said Peter. “Their distortion field will probably knock out the first volley, but we’ll have a second before they can redirect.”
“Should I continue approach, or turn the ship?” asked Manuel.
Peter shook his head. “Don’t turn until after we fire the first two volleys.”
“We can’t use the side cannons from this position though.”
“If we turn, they’re going to notice we’re up to something. We’ll lose any chance of surprise!” Peter swung in my direction. “Alexa, do I have permission to power up the weapons?”
I gave a stiff nod. “Do it.”
Hitomi continued to speak over the comm as though nothing was amiss, but I could tell something had changed in the demeanor of the freighter. It sounded eerily like hope, and if it was clear enough for a pidgin speaker like me, it must be blazingly obvious to the patrol.
A harsh voice cut in demanding to know why our weapons systems were online.
Hitomi insightfully pointed out that the Alcaltan patrol already had their weapons up, and we were only trying to help.
They probably wouldn’t be able to recognize that our cannons were directed at them at such a distance, but our weapons coming up at the same time as the transport was getting optimistic wasn’t a good sign.
“Weapons charged!” said Peter.
All the moisture went out of my mouth. “Fire.”
A wave of long-range Fulmi-class missiles launched from half our forward cannons, then a moment later, the second round fired from the other half. The high-energy exhaust cones of the first wave made for the ideal smokescreen for the second. It was a tactic we had developed late in the war in an attempt to overcome the Alcaltans’ distortion technology. Their command of gravity allowed them to warp space at
points around their ship, diverting the direction of the missiles and causing them to miss.
Common sense said the Alcaltan cruiser would shunt the oncoming missiles at its flank above or behind it, so they wouldn’t endanger the other ships in its patrol group or accidentally shoot down the transport. Once the hidden second wave of missiles closed in on the Alcaltan cruiser, they would execute a burn to redirect themselves around to the front of the ship, bypassing the warped space before the Alcaltans could see the new threat and set up a second gravity well. It should be a solid hit. Peter had done this before on the Bloodborne as Nathan’s junior.
“Five minutes until impact,” said Peter.
“Any reaction from the Alcaltans?” I asked.
“The targeted cruiser is changing its heading,” said Valerie. “The other cruiser and the corvette are still in pursuit of the transport.”
Manuel muttered a curse.
“They’ve cut the line,” said Hitomi. “I can’t raise the freighter anymore.”
I grimaced. “It’s not going to be able to outrun them.”
“The targeted cruiser has returned fire!” said Valerie. “They’ve got better propulsion than us. We’re looking at ten to twenty missiles in three minutes!”
“Distortion field is ready,” said Peter. “I have gravity-well creation set to staccato just in case they try our own tactic on us.”
“That’s risking a hit! We’re a frigate, not a dreadnought.”
He grunted and shifted in his seat. “We should be able to take one or two hits without compromising the hull, but we won’t want to risk an unprotected second wave. I’d rather take a fifty-fifty chance of minor damage than a ten percent chance at a fatal hole in the hull.”
“Nathan wouldn’t go for that,” said Valerie, but she shot her glance at me rather than Peter.
When I did not immediately reply, Hitomi asked, “What should we do?”
And I realized that I needed to be the one to answer that. The cruiser we had shot at was turning to engage. It had been traveling lengthwise to us, allowing the use of its more numerous side cannons, so it if was turning, that could only mean that it had a fixed main cannon it wished to engage. I thought of the Bloodborne’s own implosion cannon, and a chill settled around me. The cruiser should be too small for such a weapon, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be lethal.
