Hell's Razer

by S. F. Edwards

  “From the looks of it, it might not make it that far without repair and refit. At least the Conts aren’t looking for us in this massive garbage pile.”

  Tony agreed with that. The intel reports he’d been privy to had revealed that the Confederation had multiple battlegroups out scouring the sector for the Barker and its taskforce. The Admiral had outsmarted the Confederates though. The Barker had set out with a taskforce three times normal size. The majority bore new hull numbers that hadn’t been officially assigned to the Barker’s Battlegroup. From their current staging area, the Admiral would send out raiding parties led by those ships, rotating fighter support amongst them using Mitchell Class Light Carriers or Ashland Fighter Tenders. Meanwhile, the Barker itself remained safe, only hitting high value targets on occasion to keep up the appearance that they’d engaged in another Hackeron’s Gambit.

  Tony’s last raid had been a fortuitous one. The new predictive hyperspace navigation system had forecasted a four-hour window through which they could jump from a staging system into a heavily-trafficked Confed system, engage any nearby traffic, and return without Confed being any the wiser. The system had provided the assessment with a week to plan and get into position. Tony hadn’t cared that it had taken three days hard travel each direction to get back to the Barker.

  His strike group had downed a half-dozen escorting corvettes before they’d captured twice that many freighters. Those had been filled to the brim with refined materials, grains, water, and fuel bound for a colony resupply. Other raids had had similar victories. And like his, none of the attacks could be directly traced back to the Barker, or reveal its location. Better than that, they were disrupting trade and resupply throughout the sector.

  As much as Tony wished he were a part of the attack group taking the Dralin System, he loved playing pirate aboard the Barker. The longer they could keep this up, the more it would weaken the Confederation’s war effort, forcing them to pull ships back from the frontline to keep their trade routes safe. The glory of serving aboard the Barker did have certain disadvantages too. It wasn’t a bunch of light and escort carriers that the Conts sent to hunt them, but their very best. “What’s the latest you’ve heard about the Wolfsbane? Is it still hunting us?”

  “Not directly. Them hitting the Inferno’s resupply convoy diverted them to Drobile,” his wingman replied. “They’re hunting for a ghost at this point. When the Inferno heads back she’ll be more than capable of taking them out.”

  “You really think the Admiral will hand that honor off to someone else?”

  “She’ll still get the credit for orchestrating the whole thing since the Inferno is assigned to the Barker Group now.”

  Tony considered that. If the Inferno was able to take out the Wolfsbane it would leave the door open to the Vashko Cluster. His girlfriend in navigation had let slip the month before that they’d captured the jump codes to the core system there. More than that, the Predictor had indicated that a plethora of orbiting jump points around it should lead deep into Confed space. With a bit of luck, in two months, the Wolfsbane would be little more than scrap and the Barker could lead an assault into the heart of Confed territory.

  That brought a smile to Tony’s lips. This assignment had already promised to grant him a breeding license. If he had a chance to attack a Confed world, he’d be on a fast track to command his own squadron and could have his pick of genetic partners. There were a half-dozen women he could think of off the top of his head that he’d like to join his genes with. Two or three he might consider marrying.

  That assumed a lot however. A breeding license was one thing. To garner the honor of a marriage license, and the benefits that entailed, so much more. He knew of few pilots, other than those from high-born families, to be given such entitlements. For one like him, that seemed like a dream beyond reach. Yet he could taste it.

  “Don’t go naming your kids yet,” his wingman said, likely thinking along the same lines.

  “Like you haven’t already started picking your brood mothers...”

  His wingman laughed. “I’ve already picked out the tubes my friend.”

  Tony looked back at the Inferno as they raced past it. The blackened hull was a sight to behold through the construction frames. But he no longer saw it as an eyesore ready for the scrapyards. It now represented the key to his destiny. Through the framework however, he spotted something he’d never seen before. The central spar that separated the twin pairs of runways had been expanded and enlarged. A massive set of accelerator rings were visible inside the new framework, similar, but at the same time vastly different, to the inner workings of a Razer cannon. Maybe it’s one of those new experimental Razer cannons, he mused. It looked odd to him, not like any other cannon he’d seen before. Whatever it was, it would catch their enemy by surprise, and hopefully lead to their demise.

  UCSB Date: 1005.293

  Dropship Bay, UCSBS-Wolfsbane, Drobile System

  To say that Gavit was riding high would be a serious understatement. His burgeoning relationship with Chris had amazed him in ways he couldn’t have described. Floating into the dropship bay, though, he felt as if he’d been transported back in time.

  On one of the shelves sat a shape he’d recognize anywhere, and in just the way he’d first discovered it. A tarp covered the craft, but this one wasn’t covered in layers of dust and grime, instead it was pristine. Even in the zero gravity of the bay, the way the tarp hugged the top of the craft beneath was a sight ingrained into his memory forever. He didn’t have Dorik by his side, instead his oldest friend stood beside it and smiled back at him.

  Gavit shook his head and leapt towards the shape. “There’s no way!”

  Dorik kept tight-lipped and handed the edge of the tarp to Gavit. He tugged it free, a markedly easier feat in microgravity. As the tarp flew clear and the bay lights shone onto the craft beneath Gavit felt his hearts clutch in his throat. It was the second most beautiful sight in the universe. That was only because if Chris was to discover that he found it more beautiful than she was, he might wake up sans his favorite appendage. His racer sat before him, restored after the crash so many annura before. The skin was pristine, the cockpit as glovelike as ever, the wings almost identical - save for the maneuvering thrusters, and the PDE ring…

  Gavit stopped and stared at the key feature of the racer. The ring was different, longer, wider, with a massive ugly bulge atop it. He spun on Dorik. “What did you do?”

  “I rebuilt her. She’s been our testbed for PDE tech ever since.”

  “I can see that, but what’s that?” Gavit asked pointing at the bulge. “Who gave my baby an STD?”

  Dorik looked back, but before he could respond another of his engineers popped up. “Given how badly you trashed the poor thing I don’t think you have room to complain.” He extended a hand. “Thame Drel, Crew Chief.” Gavit took the man’s hand and shook it. “And from what I’ve heard about you, if anyone gave it an STD…”

  Gavit just smiled and slapped the man on the back. “In all seriousness, what is that?”

  UCSB Date: 1005.312

  Monstero Nach 003, High Orbit Drobile Six, Drobile System

  The heavy winds ripping through the clear air between the cloud layers circling the massive gas giant threatened to flip Blazer’s fighter as he burst through the upper cloud deck. He fought to maintain control as he followed Tadeh Qudas into the slipstream. Behind him, the big bomber they were escorting burst through with the rest of the Blade Force. Tadeh Qudas led them into the river of air, allowed it to carry them along.

  Every nerve felt on edge as they executed their latest deep atmospheric patrol of the world the Phantom was reported to call home. There’d been no contact with any GF forces since they’d discovered the abandoned Solaar. That hadn’t quieted Blazer’s hindbrain. Blazer looked over at the bomber. Sensor packages had replaced its usual turrets, scanning for any sign of the Phantom. They could have been escorting the whole bomber wing carrying their full war lo
ads and Blazer wouldn’t have felt any more at ease. He looked past the bomber to Six and Eight.

  The pair flew in extreme close formation, bringing a reluctant smile to his lips. Gavit and Chris hadn’t been silent about their burgeoning romance. In fact, according to their roommates, the pair was making up for all the wasted annura they could have been having fun together. When Blazer asked the pair about missing gym time with the team a few cycles earlier, Gavit responded, “We’re getting in plenty of cardio believe me” - to which Chris had elbowed him.

  Blazer knew he would have to address it at some point. However, beyond missing gym time and some harmless flirting outside of regular duty, the pair hadn’t let their new status affect their performances. He looked over at Nach Four, and felt his hearts sink. Zanreb was all business when flying and during mission practice. He’d proved an excellent addition to the team, but seeing Gavit and Chris fooling around made him miss having his wife on his wing.

  “You’re sighing,” Arion called from the rear seat.

  Blazer shook his head. “Just seeing those two makes me miss Marda flying with us.”

  “I understand. Is she maintaining her quals?”

  Blazer really wasn’t sure. With how busy they’d been, he couldn't remember the last time Marda had got in any flight time. “I have no clue. The last time I even remember her taking a shuttle out was back on Cathedral Seven.”

  That got Blazer’s mind spinning. She’d only need a few hects to maintain her fighter quals. Perhaps he could convince Tadeh Qudas to let her go out on a patrol. Then there was Chrisvian’s upcoming Birth Dask in a few tridecs. It wouldn’t take much to allow her to take out a shuttle and fly the family down to the inner worlds to celebrate, assuming that they’d still even be in this system then. “But I’ll check in with her. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Too bad flying with Alieha wouldn’t count, but then she doesn’t do much flying around in-system.”

  Blazer nodded and scanned the skies around him. Flying around inside of a gas giant was surreal. While some light did filter through from the local sun, everything remained muted. Visual enhancers within his helmet and the canopy helped, amplifying the light to bring out details. It didn’t dampen the mind’s attempts to justify the setting, however. They were flying between the layers of clouds that hid the inner depths below and sky above.

  Each mission had brought them deeper into the atmosphere. They were still well above the deepest layers of liquid and metallic hydrogen but had ventured below the red/brown ammonium hydrosulfide clouds. Through the SIS floated puffy white clouds of water ice in the clear oxygenated air. It was disconcerting in the light enhancers. Were it not for the gravity pulling him into his seat, Blazer could have sworn that he was flying inverted over a rolling desert.

  Pulling himself from his musings, Blazer looked back at his WSO. “How’s Alieha doing?”

  Arion shrugged. “She’ll be back in about a tridec and a half. She has quite a bit of trading to do, but it’s taking her into some places I’d rather not see her go.”

  “Seedy areas?”

  “Enough to restore a dead planet with lush forests.”

  Blazer chuffed at that. “She’s a capable lady. And the Favor has shown it can handle itself in a fight.”

  The notion of how well-armed the little transport was still stunned Blazer. While it had started life as a military craft, all those accoutrements had been stripped for civilian use. Yet somehow, Alieha had reequipped the turrets on hers, and then some. “What about when she’s planet-side? Does she have any backup there? I mean her co-pilot doesn’t seem the bodyguard type.”

  Arion looked off to the side, probably using the navigation suite to pinpoint the system she was currently visiting. “She explained to me that she has various mercenary contacts that she keeps on retainer for when she or her associates need them.”

  “That has to get costly.”

  “She exploits their harder to find desires and supplies them.” Arion smiled. “Nothing shady though. There’s this one mercenary captain she works with. He’s got a serious sweet tooth and likes authentic candies from various worlds, not autocook replicas.”

  Blazer understood that, and he’d been raised on autocook food. Everything that came out of one of those machines just never tasted quite like the real thing.

  “He’s got a crew that works in various sectors. Alieha has contacts that can even get - Xavier, that’s his name - candies from deep in the Galactic Federation. She keeps him supplied and his guys keep her safe.”

  “Sounds like she gets the better end of that deal.”

  “I’m sure she provides other services as well, probably helps manage their investments or some such…”

  “All Units, Monstero Nach Lead.”

  Blazer twisted back and checked his scanner, sure that Tadeh Qudas had seen something.

  “Moon Snow Squadron’s escort has found something. Navigational point up. They are requesting backup. Let’s move.”

  The nav point appeared on Blazer’s HUD and he followed Tadeh Qudas into his turn. The time for discussion and fooling around was over: they’d found their prey.

  Staying atmospheric the whole way, it took the Monstero Nach three hects, at maximum burn, to reach the Moon Snows. Their Splicer 5000s were decked out in a grey and white digital camouflage that, while it stood out now, the eyes had a hard time locking on to. Not that Blazer wanted to stare at them. In this instant, his eyes were drawn to the object before them, a perfectly spherical cloud. “Arion?”

  “We’re all scanning. It’s a gravitational anomaly.”

  “Theories?”

  Gokhead and Que Dee broke intothe link. “Based on the gravitational and radiological readings, it’s a jump point.”

  Blazer couldn’t believe that. Jump points collapsed in strong gravity fields; either from the gravity itself crushing them, or from the interaction with unprotected mass blowing them out. That was why most jump points resided either on the fringes of a system, or rested in one of the gravitational null zones generated around orbiting bodies. To see one floating there in the ice-cloud layer defied all logic. “How?”

  “It is not without precedent,” Que Dee replied, “just not at this depth. Synthesis has discovered similar anomalies at the heart of gas giants, encased within the crystalline cores.”

  That was news to Blazer. There were many theories about the composition of gas giant cores. Crystal moons had been discovered in the past. Studies suggested that they may have once been the cores of gas giants that had lost their atmospheres. No one had discovered hard evidence though, because the cores were well past the crush depth of even the best probes. He wasn’t even sure that a probe made of the same material as the Egg would survive. To hear Que Dee state it so matter-of-factly stunned him.

  “Oh right. You all haven’t figured that out yet,” Que Dee explained. “But yes. It can happen. However, there is no way a Terran ship could reach that depth without being crushed by the pressure of the metallic hydrogen.”

  “Lead, Three. We are running with the theory that this may be a jump point of some kind.”

  “I heard. ComSec is slipping.

  Blazer felt his face flush. “What are the bombers saying?”

  “They concur. They’re also picking up a low-level repulsion field and metallic elements at least a kimet deep.”

  Blazer looked at his tactical hologram. The sphere was over two and a half kimets in diameter. Sure enough, the data link revealed an irregular five hundred metra wide sphere at the core.

  “All Units, Moon Snow Lead,” the Drashig squadron commander called. “We have orders from Command. Positions are being relayed. Move into position and prepare to strip away the clouds. We need to see what we’ve got.”

  Blazer’s assigned position formed on his HUD and he followed instructions to move into it. With the bombers flying around the sphere’s equator at a distance of roughly five kimets, the fighters found themselves arrayed above like
an inward pointed crown. A conical firing arc appeared before Blazer as he took position. His weapons indicator blinked to show that Arion had set the plaser cannon to a wide dispersion pattern. A direct hit from the weapon would do little but singe unshielded metal. It would boil off the clouds with ease.

  “All Units, keep within your firing arcs and open fire.”

  Blazer knew it would have been a sight to behold. He squeezed the trigger. Working their way in, the plaser beams of twenty Splicer 5000s boiled off the clouds. There wasn’t even steam. The plasma beams dissociated the ice into its constituent particles, casting them to the winds. It proved a slow process, but in a few pulses, just as Blazer’s plasma tanks indicated they’d need recharging from his fuel cells, a glint of metal shone through. “Hold fire!”

  Everyone stopped. The scene cleared. Blazer could only stare in puzzlement. Metallic points jutted out from a spherical ice-encrusted lattice. Light danced from within and a hologram of the object coalesced off to his side. It was some manner of jump point snare. Blazer had only ever heard of their like before. The concept was nothing new. There was evidence to suggest that some ancient races had built massive structures around their tears. Even during the Gorvian Campaign, the Confederation had used a jump point snare to move one into the trap that had destroyed the Planet Slicer. There was just one small problem with that idea: all of Drobile’s jump points had been accounted for.