Elite

by Allen Stroud

  Kel cut the transmission. ‘They going to reach us?’

  Faith’s eyes flicked from the outside view to the mass readout and the fighters on the tactical display. ‘Looks like,’ she said.

  ‘Fine,’ Kel opened the ship comms. ‘Brahms, dump the navigator right in their flightpath.’

  ‘Boss?’

  ‘If they hit him, they don’t deserve their wings,’ Kel replied.

  ‘Okay, boss.’

  Kel glanced around to see Faith glaring at him. He returned the stare, waiting for her to speak her mind, but she shrugged and turned back to the main window.

  ‘Navigator away!’ Brahms announced.

  Another comms light winked on, the signal from the remlok. It would interfere with ship to ship communication across wideband until someone picked up the pilot. That made no difference to the stolen clipper and wouldn’t affect the Alliance military channels, but it should draw all sorts of other ships to the region. More attention Jander’s fleet couldn’t afford.

  So, they’ll need to pick him up quickly.

  The two Eagle fighters changed direction immediately and slowed down. Another dot appeared, a shuttle heading straight for them. Kel smiled as the mass reading pinged, indicating they were clear for hyperspace. ‘Time to go,’ he said to Faith.

  ‘Time indeed,’ she replied and keyed the sequence. The counter clicked away, the clipper lurched and the stars turned into lines of light.

  * * *

  Chaos in the briefing room.

  Admiral Bryce Jander sat quietly, as the officers around him tried to get information. Cassom stood next to the viewscreens, speaking with Captain Salba from the Havillard. Lieutenant Aimes was talking to the navigation ensign on the bridge. Ennis stood in the middle of the room demanding updates, other officers were speaking to engineering, the alert patrol, ship security, the security chief and more.

  He glanced up and found Martha Godwina staring at him from the end of the table with an amused smile on her face. Jander didn’t bite. Instead, he made a conscious effort to unclench his fingers from the arm rests of his chair.

  ‘They jumped!’ Aimes announced and suddenly everyone went quiet.

  Jander stood up, drawing everyone’s attention. ‘No time for why and wherefore,’ he said in a calm voice. ‘The situation we are in demands a response, so we must provide one.’ He turned to the five active viewscreens. ‘I require all vessels to be at combat ready status within the hour. The clock is running, get moving.’

  Each ship captain murmured an acknowledgement and disappeared. Jander looked at the officers in the room. ‘Many of you aren’t old enough to remember the Alioth rebellion. You’ve never served in war. It’s not like the films or the stories. Your training tells you that, but it’s easy to forget. I don’t need heroes. I require diligence and duty. You will be given tasks, perform them. We discuss the consequences afterwards. Now, give me the room, Ennis and Cassom remain.’

  The space cleared quickly, Godwina stood up as well. ‘If you have no further use for me, Admiral—’

  ‘Actually I need you more now than ever,’ Jander said. ‘I can’t order you to do anything, but I want you to stay. You have knowledge of Lave which we don’t.’

  ‘Then I will remain,’ Godwina said.

  ‘You sure about this Admiral?’ Ennis said. ‘She’ll have a price.’

  ‘I think that’ll be something to discuss after the dust settles,’ Jander said. ‘Ambassador, I suspect you’ll want to witness what will happen and whilst I don’t doubt the capacity of your ship, you’ll be much safer here.’

  ‘Thank you Admiral,’ Godwina said and resumed her seat. ‘I’m happy to help.’

  * * *

  The gunshot hadn’t come, but in some ways, Pietro wished it had.

  He stared at his tied hands. Plastic zip lock cords had been invented way back before man reached the stars and remained the best and cheapest choice to restrain a dangerous prisoner. The soldiers had secured him to the ship rail with them, wrists bound together and looped to the metal bar in an awkward position above his head. That meant he had to hope for a smooth ride.

  Compared to Federal vehicles, the interplanetary shuttle qualified as a relic, but the pristine and polished interior belied its age. Twelve soldiers sat on the benches, eight opposite, four alongside Pietro and James. A second ship followed with the rest of the force. There were no other prisoners. Pietro had seen them execute the wounded and burn the dead, the guard Kaspet amongst them. He wasn’t sure why he’d been kept alive.

  He glanced at James. The boy hadn’t spoken since they’d surrendered. He’d watched the killings with the same slack expression. Pietro couldn’t tell whether he was coping or not. Any move to help comfort him might make things worse for them both.

  So he gave no sign and went back to staring at his tied hands.

  No conversation amongst the soldiers, just professional stares. Grey uniforms, with black equipment belts, gloves and helmets, these people weren’t a local team like the last group Pietro had encountered. They’d been properly trained. The trip off planet confirmed it.

  Destination: Lave Station.

  The shuttle rocked as the pilot added thrust to escape the planet’s atmosphere. Pietro flexed his arms, testing the bindings, but found no give in the plastic cord. They knew he was from the crashed ship, the only reason he was a prisoner not a casualty. His mind turned to the virus and the bio containment suits the locals had been wearing. No precautions here. Must be immunised, he thought.

  He wondered about James. They had to know about his computer skills. They’ll torture him for names and locations, Pietro thought. I hope Pasion warned him. Pietro hadn’t seen the resistance leader in the fighting or the others he’d met before. He thought about Renner and Gebrial. The veteran pilot could handle himself, but the girl ... maybe she got out. He guessed if the soldiers had seen her, she’d have been captured as well.

  * * *

  ‘They’re gone.’

  Gebrial wiped her eyes and got to her feet. The cold light of early dawn and the smell of burned flesh made her want to vomit, but there was nothing left to come up. Jallin was already moving back into the crater, she followed quickly, hoping someone might be alive amongst the fallen.

  But found no one.

  The soldiers had been thorough, tents and vehicles all ablaze, weapons, supplies and ammunition, ruined. The transports had been battered with grenades. Jallin picked up a discarded fire extinguisher from the ground and managed to put out the flames on an old truck. The chassis was blackened and two burst tires made it lean to the right. ‘Can you fix that?’ she asked.

  ‘Depends what we find,’ Jallin said. ‘But if I can’t we’re dead and so’s everyone else. We have to get to the cell in Ashoria and tell them what’s happened.’

  Gebrial walked around the truck to a still burning buggy. Jallin followed and brought up the extinguisher. The last of the foam snuffed the blaze. The oversized tyres were still intact. Gebrial pointed at them. ‘Can we use them?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Jallin said. ‘Might be quicker to patch the ones we have, but good spot.’ She went back to the truck and pulled out a fire charred repair kit. ‘We need the tools from the buggy as well.’

  ‘Got them.’ Renner appeared the other side of the vehicle with a battered blue box in his hands.

  For a moment, Gebrial stood open mouthed, then ran forward and wrapped him in her arms. ‘You’re alive!’

  Renner returned the hug gently and pushed her away. ‘Harker’s with me,’ he said. ‘I reckon that’s all of us.’ He turned to Jallin who was trying to prise open the red hot engine cover with gloved hands. ‘Might be I can help?’

  ‘If you can, start being useful,’ Jallin growled. Renner walked around and to the other end. Gebrial saw fresh blood from a wound in his shoulder, but he didn’t flinch and grabbed the dented metal plate, yanking it up. The engine underneath looked rusty and pitted.

  ‘Will it work?’ Gebrial ask
ed.

  ‘Has to,’ Harker said, laying a hand on her shoulder. ‘Otherwise we’ll rot out here. Cats’ll get us before anything else.’

  ‘I got a signal out,’ Gebrial said, ‘before they left, a short message, to a ship.’

  Renner stopped work and turned towards her. ‘Which one?’

  ‘The big ship we repaired at on the way here, while you were unconscious,’ Gebrial said. ‘Their ident tags were left on my slate. I said we were the rebellion and asked for help.’

  Renner looked at Jallin who shrugged. ‘Can’t make the situation worse,’ she said.

  ‘No, but an open message on the in-system relays will get picked up by a lot of people.’ A smile spread slowly across Renner’s face. ‘Be interesting to see what happens in response.’

  Jallin didn’t reply, but swung up into the driver’s seat of the truck. She pressed the ignition, the engine coughed and fired into life.

  ‘I know what my response’ll be,’ Harker said. He picked up a rifle and backpack from the ground, threw them into the back of the vehicle, then climbed up. ‘About time we made ourselves heard down here.’

  Renner laughed. ‘I can get behind that,’ he said.

  Chapter 31: The Brigade

  Bertrum Kowl stared at the dead body of Gramos on the office floor.

  ‘I’m sorry Prefect, but we needed to get to the truth,’ Walden said. ‘Your aide has been using your personal ident to transfer data to your wife for several months. This in turn, was being sent to Prefect Brunan.’

  Bertrum couldn’t take his eyes from the body. The hole in Gramos’ chest still oozed blood and there was a widening stain on the floor.

  ‘Of course, I would like to congratulate you,’ Walden went on. ‘In part, your investigation led us to this result.’

  ‘Why did you kill him?’ Bertrum asked, ‘why no questions?’

  ‘I already have prisoners to question, Prefect,’ Walden replied. ‘I don’t believe this gentlemen would have added anything significant.’

  Bertrum swallowed, trying to work some moisture into his dry mouth. ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘The power unit for my walker?’

  ‘Yes of course,’ Walden said. He bent over the body and retrieved two bloody batteries from Gramos’ hand and held them out, but when Bertrum reached, he pulled away. ‘Actually, my apologies, I think you should wait a little longer.’

  The puddle of blood had touched Bertrum’s shoes. ‘Longer?’

  ‘Yes, you’ll be accompanying me to the station. I require your expertise for a short period. We can discuss your future role afterwards.’

  ‘Doctor, I’m not sure—’

  ‘Nothing to worry about, Prefect,’ Walden said and smiled. ‘My associates will ensure you’re comfortable on the shuttle. We’ve time before scheduled launch to hit the orbital window.’ He glanced at a chronometer on his wrist, ‘about eight minutes for you to get yourself up there.’

  Bertrum sighed. He gripped the sides of the chair and lowered himself to the bloodstained floor. His trousers quickly stained in the clotting mess soaking his useless legs as he rolled forwards, onto his belly.

  ‘We’ll be back down and keep the lift open for you, Prefect,’ Walden said, ‘but we can’t wait.’

  Bertrum started to crawl. The tiled floor of the communal office was wipe-clean plastic. Blood soaked into his shirt around the elbows as he moved towards the doors, watching the booted feet disappear ahead of him. The lift pinged and they closed, taking the others up to the roof.

  Leaving him alone on the floor.

  Bertrum stopped moving and looked up at the viewscreen on the wall. Instead of Walden’s flickering image giving a speech or attending a function, it was blank.

  Walden’s not watching.

  He turned around and crawled back to Gramos’ body. The young man’s face was frozen in horrified surprise. Bertrum ignored it and checked his pockets. Replacement batteries for his exoskeleton dropped into his hand. Each aide carried them, in case the unit failed while they were away. For a second, Bertrum considered plugging them in, but Walden wanted him to crawl to the lift and the guard sent back to accompany him would expect him to be on the floor. Can I overpower him and run?No, definitely not. Where would I go?

  Bertrum fumbled with Gramos’ blood-soaked shirt, feeling along the arms and trying desperately not to get any more on his own clothes. There has to be something else, anything!

  In the breast pocket, he found a tiny data drive, no bigger than the end of his finger.They were commonplace devices, but if Gramos had been a traitor ...

  The lift pinged again, Bertrum rolled away and moved as fast as he could across the floor towards it.

  * * *

  The Ronin lurched and returned to normal space.

  The Lave system.

  Heldaban Kel stared at the orange dwarf star out beyond the Castellan asteroid belt. Between here and there would be the system’s solitary planet, lumbering around its solar parent as it always had. Something felt right about being back in the system he wanted to call home.

  But it wasn’t his home yet.

  ‘Contact at vertical six horizontal four,’ he said, turning to Faith. ‘One of ours?’

  ‘Could be,’ she said. ‘Find out.’

  Kel keyed up the comms and added a memorised encryption code. He’d never sat in the navigation chair on a Panther clipper before. The controls were unfamiliar, but quickly deciphered. The spacious bridge, designed to accommodate four crew members seemed empty with just two. For a moment, he hoped the contact on the sensor screen wasn’t friendly. The Ronin was a powerful ship, capable of taking on anything up to a small frigate. He remembered the Asp, that’d left him for dead. Would be a nice rematch. ‘Phoenix Leader to Phoenix Brigade, report in.’

  ‘Phoenix One to Phoenix Leader, welcome home.’

  Kel smiled and inputted the Phoenix transponder to the ship’s computer, taking care not to override the Alliance broadcast ident. The dot on the scanner changed, registering the organisation’s icon in a friendly blue. ‘Status, Phoenix One?’

  ‘Waiting for your lead, along with everyone else.’

  ‘I wonder how many they mustered?’ Faith said.

  ‘Hopefully enough to make a point,’ Kel replied. He touched the blip on the sensor screen that represented the Castellan Mining Station and sent an information request. Within a fraction of a second, data began scrolling down the side panel. ‘Our man on the inside says six ships docked in addition to the security patrol. Everything’s ready to go.’

  ‘They must have pinged our ident by now,’ Faith said. ‘Time to start the plan.’

  Kel nodded. ‘Leader to One, ready here, send Trojan.’

  ‘Trojan away,’ replied Phoenix One. Another ship appeared on the screen, moving slowly towards the mining station.

  ‘Turrets report in,’ Faith said over the ship comms.

  ‘Turret Two, target acquired,’ said Brahms.

  ‘I’m bringing us in, wait until it’s on approach then fire,’ Faith instructed.

  ‘Got it.’

  The plan was one Kel had used in Tiliala. The ‘trojan’ was a battered Python trade ship, pulled out of the Tsionla graveyards for this purpose. Its late owner, a long dead space trader, had left strict instructions with his descendants. If Lave was to be freed, his ship was to be used and his bones taken to the planet. Onboard the Python were as many veteran volunteers as the brigade could muster with two days notice. In Tiliala when Kel worked for the Rasts he’d sent an old freighter into Valhalla Station, only that time it’d been packed with explosives.

  ‘Trojan to leader, we got docking clearance. On approach.’

  Faith manuevered the clipper, bringing the Python into the centre of the viewscreen and Kel watched tracing fire strafe across the ship’s bow. ‘Time to send the transmission?’

  ‘Do it,’ Faith said.

  Kel punched up an open broadcast channel. ‘Rogue vessel, this is Alliance ship Ronin, you are ordered to
cut your engines and prepare to be boarded. We have reason to believe you have fugitives aboard … repeat, cut your engines.’

  As planned the Python didn’t reply, but headed straight for the mining station dock, quickly disappearing into the bowels of the small base.

  Kel re-keyed the comms, targeting the station. ‘Alliance Naval ship Ronin to Lave Castellan control. You just gave secure harbour to suspected fugitives, rescind clearance and order them to relaunch.’

  ‘Castellan control to Ronin, request acknowledged. Please state authorisation for action.’

  ‘Castellan control, this is under Alliance naval mandate.’

  ‘Alliance ship Ronin, Alliance authority does not apply here.’

  Kel looked up from the screen at Faith who was smiling broadly. ‘So far so good,’ she said, and touched her headpiece, opening the ship-wide comms. ‘All turrets re-target for Castellan.’

  Kel changed to the station channel again. ‘Alliance naval ship Ronin to Lave Castellan control, be advised, we are prepared to fire on your position if you do not comply.’

  No response, he sat back. ‘They definitely heard us,’ he said.

  ‘Of course,’ Faith replied, ‘and so did anyone else in-system monitoring an unencrypted channel. Now we just lurk around the launch bay and wait for the signal.’

  Kel returned the smile with a scowl. ‘I’m not a fan of waiting,’ he said. ‘So far, we haven’t given LaveSec much to chew on from an Alliance point of view.’ He opened the ship-wide comms on his console. ‘Brahms, target the station’s asteroid shield and fire.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘The Alliance need to break the rules out here, otherwise the diplomats’ll easily explain things away. If you aim at the shield, you won’t do much damage.’

  ‘Okay.’

  The steady thump of laser discharge resumed and Kel saw the bolts splash against the station’s angled deflector. ‘Now that’s more like it,’ he said and grinned.

  * * *

  Bertrum’s bloody hands shook as he buckled into the seat on the lifter shuttle. The floor was similarly stained where he’d dragged himself up the steps.

  In the chair opposite, Doctor Hans Walden ignored him and stared out of the window.