Next came a short pause. Not enough to be worth skipping but long enough for questions to come into Vorn’s head. Then the Wanderer fired once more, unleashing all its weapons and hitting… nothing. That clinched things for Vorn. The Wanderer hadn’t been able to detect the Banshees. It had just calculated their attack pattern, though that was some just.
Nothing happened for a short while, then the Wanderer disappeared, once again ripping its way into jump space. Vorn had assumed they were leaving, running, when he first saw the recording. Now he knew better. Nothing happened for long minutes then, suddenly, the Wanderer dropped out of jump space.
It immediately let loose with a vicious volley of fire targeted at apparently empty space. It wasn’t empty. Every shot struck the surviving Banshee, overwhelming it within moments. Vorn watched as it exploded. There was no doubt. The Wanderer had somehow located this cloaked Banshee from within jump space.
The recording ended there. Whoever had been left alive on the crippled Banshee realised just how bad things were. They had downloaded everything into a homing device and launched it to drift a short distance away. Then they had triggered a generator overload which destroyed the ship. The homing device had activated some time later, after the Wanderer had left the area.
Vorn stared at the dark screen, deep in thought. Some of the officers around him fidgeted, but none dared to interrupt. The technician unlucky enough to have been charged with displaying the recording waited tensely, ready to replay the recording the moment he was asked to. This time no such command came.
Vorn knew the Empire had to get its hands on the Wanderer. The ship had demonstrated several previously unknown abilities including massively powerful shields for her size, the ability to detect cloaked ships and apparently the ability to perform short distance jumps no Imperial ship could possibly match.
Finally Vorn blinked rapidly and refocused on those around him.
“Any thoughts?” he barked out.
Many of the officers shrank back. They’d been counting on following Vorn’s lead. Now, not saying anything could be as dangerous as venturing an opinion. Vorn recognised what was going through their heads but said nothing, certain someone would crack soon.
Someone did. One of the junior officers, Fisher, tentatively raised a hand. Vorn nodded at him to speak.
“We… ah… we need to find that ship.”
“Obviously,” Vorn replied coldly. “And how do you suggest we do that?”
Fisher turned pale but managed to reply.
“Well, we can’t track it. We can’t tell what direction they were heading, and they’ve had almost a day to get clear.”
“Don’t tell me what we can’t do!” snapped Vorn. “Tell me what we can do.”
Now Fisher was shaking, and Vorn’s patience was wearing thin. Fisher would make a good example, he decided. An example of what happened when someone wasted his time.
“Sir… we can work out where they’re going,” Fisher gasped out. “They had slaves on board the ships. Lots of slaves. And they didn’t space them. So they plan to sell them, or maybe to try to free them.
“Either way there are only a few nearby locations they could head to. The slaves don’t have food or much heat in their transports. They’ll start dying in the next two or three days. There can’t be many systems within range where they could drop such a hot cargo. Only the most shady organisations will touch Imperial slaves.”
Vorn paused for a moment, then nodded slightly. Fisher sank into his seat in relief.
“Maybe,” Vorn said. “Or maybe they just haven’t got round to dumping them yet. It’s a start, though.”
“They must know we’ve got details of their ships, and that we’ll be chasing after them,” came a gravelly voice.
This time it was Captain Brundell who spoke, the only officer not intimidated by Vorn. Brundell was by far the oldest in the room and bore the signs of a lifetime spent serving the Empire on the front line. His face was scarred and pitted, his heavily muscled body contained several artificial organs. One leg was mostly prosthetic, and his left hand was only rendered usable by an external support frame. The captain treated Vorn with respect, but without fear. Vorn in turn valued the captain’s knowledge and insight.
“They’ll want to get those details changed straight off, and to do it well away from anywhere we can monitor. Otherwise we could work out the name switch and resume the chase. There’s only one location anywhere near that they can do that. Desolation.”
Brundell used his terminal to push the relevant information to Vorn, who brought it up in place of the recording and studied it carefully. Desolation was a stark system with almost no resources. It was also the name of a smugglers’ base in that system. The smugglers believed it was hidden from the Empire. They were wrong, but no action had been taken so far. Sometimes it was better to leave your enemies where you could find them.
“Excellent,” Vorn said eventually. “And if they do want to free the slaves then that would be the perfect place, if they even know about it. If not, they might go somewhere different.”
His gaze slid to the junior officer who had spoken earlier.
“Foster!” he barked. “What do you think?”
The young officer turned sheet white and stammered for a few moments before gulping and taking a deep breath.
“Sir, we can’t be sure. We should send ships to the other systems in the region, but it seems likely they'd go to Desolation. One of their ships launched a boarding action against another freighter, so they were almost certainly pirates. They must know of another way out of the system, too, one that we don’t. Otherwise they would have to spend months in real space before all the ships could jump and then wherever they flew to we’d be waiting for them.”
He stopped, a look of surprise on his face at having answered well. Vorn smiled inside. The youngster had shown promise. He’d be one to keep an eye on.
“The main fleet is going to Desolation, then,” Vorn said. “We will send scouts to other nearby systems to spread the word, just in case.”
Now the other officers started to venture opinions, following the lead he had set. Vorn let the details wash over him, knowing anything he needed to pay attention to would be spoken in a tentative voice, seeking his approval.
Vorn reflected on the situation. They’d been lucky. The probe carrying the destroyed Banshee’s records would have taken many days to reach Daspal. By chance it had encountered Vorn’s fleet after only two days. Having determined the fleet was definitely Imperial, the probe signalled for pickup. The information it contained had rapidly been escalated for the Admiral’s attention.
Vorn’s fleet was one of the most powerful the Empire allowed without special permission from, and oversight by, those even further up the command chain. His flagship battlecruiser, the Starslayer, was accompanied by seven cruisers, fifteen destroyers, twenty-seven frigates and hundreds of smaller ships. Enough to decimate most systems. As if that wasn’t enough, the fleet also included a group of seven Banshees, which were amongst the most advanced ships the Empire could field. The Starslayer was more than it first appeared, too, though few on board knew that.
Vorn’s original mission had been to destroy a fortified pirate base in a distant system, a mission he chose to abandon the moment he finished watching the recordings of the Wanderer’s exploits. It was imperative the Empire learn the secrets of the Wanderer’s abilities, and whether other ships existed that could do the same. Above all, it mustn’t be allowed to fall into anyone else’s hands.
Chapter 2
Jess sat in the pilot’s chair of the Wanderer, watching the mists of jump space sliding past. As always, nothing else was visible. Jess knew there were three other ships out there, though. He could pinpoint their location using the Wanderer’s seemingly unique abilities, but there was no visible sign of them, even where the mists parted.
Was it just impossible to see in jump space? Or maybe the other ships were in a slightly shifted dimensio
n, both close by and infinitely far away? It was impossible to tell. Under Jess’s control the Wanderer had destroyed several ships in jump space, but using weaponry based upon jump technology so that proved nothing. If the ship’s engines could access parallel dimensions then so could the jump technology based weapons.
“Hey, sexy.”
The voice from behind was accompanied by soft hands rubbing down his arms and a kiss on the top of his head. Then Ali dropped into his lap, kissing him properly. Jess responded enthusiastically, letting his hands start to wander.
After a few minutes Ali pulled back a little, flustered and flushed.
“Wow,” she said. “Sometimes you make it too easy to get distracted. I came up here for a reason.”
“Not just to see me?” Jess asked, feigning hurt.
“No. Well, yes. But not like that.” She glanced towards the back of the flight deck, then continued in a quiet voice. “I’m worried, Jess. Worried about Dash, and about where he’s leading us. His men have only just tried to take over the Wanderer. I know he stood against them, or certainly seemed to, but do you actually trust him? Enough to risk flying into a base he and his men control?”
“Honestly? Not really. But I don’t see any other choice. We’ve freed the prisoners on board but the other three freighters can’t do that. If we don’t get them somewhere safe pretty damn soon people will start dying.”
“I know but… I’m scared, Jess. We nearly lost Sal. You were badly wounded. Elizabeth and I were lucky. You managed to fight them off, but only just. What’s to stop that happening again, but with far more attackers?”
Jess gave her a squeeze before speaking.
“I don’t know. I’m scared too. When they opened up with those pistols that punched straight through the internal shields you were standing out in the open. I couldn’t protect you. That scared me so much. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
She smiled at that, leaning in for a quick kiss, then pulling back again.
“I’m scared but I can’t let those prisoners die,” Jess continued. “I can reduce the risk to us. The Wanderer doesn’t need to dock. The prisoners we freed can leave on shuttles, and I should be able to ensure nothing unpleasant is on board when the shuttles return.”
“Should?”
“Yeah. I’d have said definitely a couple of days ago, but those stealth ships made me realise how little I know of the universe.”
“You and everyone else. Even Elizabeth knew nothing about them, and that’s pretty much unheard of.”
Jess smiled and nodded. Elizabeth was much older than Sal, Ali and he. Older and far more experienced. She’d been captain of her own freighter for most of her adult life, and had used it as a base to explore new systems and worlds. She seemed to know of, and have an opinion on, almost everything.
Now Elizabeth was flying one of the other freighters, the Steady Light, which she had claimed for her own and nursed back to partial flight worthiness. Jess was pleased she had the chance to own a ship again, yet disappointed at the thought of losing her advice.
“Dash hadn’t heard of those ships either,” he said. “And he was the head of a major pirate organisation. Or still is, I suppose, assuming the attempted coup by the men he brought with him hasn’t been repeated across his organisation.”
“And assuming he was telling the truth,” Ali replied.
“Yeah… we keep coming back to that. I’ve done everything I can. We’ll just have to take a chance.”
“What about those guns? The ones that cut right through the shields.”
“I’ve got the ship working on them, but it’s slow progress. Some sort of energy field is generated around the bullets. There aren’t that many bullets to play around with. I think they only came with ten each so that’s ninety to begin with and quite a few were fired.
“It’s odd, though. They had advanced combat armour, but they didn’t have any shields. The fact they carry specific shield-piercing guns means they must face shields quite often. So why don’t they have shields?”
“I don’t know. There must be a reason, though.”
“Yeah. I’d feel a lot happier if I knew what it was. I would ask Dash but…”
“Yeah. How about asking Elizabeth?”
“I’d like to, but I can’t do anything until we finish the jump. I don’t know how secure any communications with her would be even then. I really don’t want to give Dash or his forces any kind of tip-off telling them our vulnerabilities.”
Ali nodded without speaking, deep in thought.
“Sorry,” Jess said after a couple of minutes of silence.
“What for?” she asked, surprise in her voice.
“I’m supposed to be making you less scared. I’m not doing a very good job of it!”
“You’re doing better than you know,” she replied with a smile. Then she leaned into him, pressing against his chest for comfort this time.
He tightened his arms around her, enjoying the sensation. It wasn’t enough to remove the lead weight in his stomach, though, the fear of letting anyone onto the ship where they could hurt Ali. Jess stared out at the mists of jump space once again, desperately trying to think of more ways to keep her safe.
* * *
Sal sat on the cold stone floor, leaning back against Markus’ chest and enjoying the warmth from his body and his arms. Most of the other prisoners were asleep, huddled together for warmth or curled up under any scraps of material they could find. The air was damp and cold.
“I love you Sal,” Markus whispered in her ear. “I want to stay with you forever.”
Tears started to fall down Sal’s face, and she hugged Markus’s arms closer to her.
“I love you too,” she replied, turning her head as far as she could. “But I’m scared. Sometime soon we’ll be split up. We’ll never see each other again.”
Sal suddenly found herself laying on the floor, staring up at a now standing Markus. Had he just shoved her away?
“It can’t come soon enough for me,” he said, sneering at her. “I can’t wait to be away from you, you disgusting piece of shit.”
He spat on her then turned away, stalking towards the open cell door and the guards waiting there. Sal lay on the floor. As the shock faded she curled into a ball, sobbing at the betrayal.
“Sal…”
She looked up in surprise. It was Markus, but not the Markus who had just plunged a knife into her heart. His face was tight with concern and his voice was soft. She tried to stifle the sobs, unsuccessfully.
“I couldn’t leave you, Sal,” he said, still gently.
Her heart leapt for a moment, warmth filling her body. Ice replaced it as she remembered his words of just a moment before. Markus smiled and warmth replaced the ice again.
He held out his hand towards her. It took her several moments to realise it wasn’t empty. It held a gun, so black it seemed to suck in the cell’s dim light.
“I couldn’t leave you alive.”
Sal just had time to register his words before the gun fired. Her body jerked repeatedly as the bullets struck home.
* * *
Sal jerked upright, body soaked in sweat and heart pounding. The lights in her room came on dimly, responding to the fact she was awake. She stared around for several moments, completely disorientated, before understanding where she was. Then she vented a string of curses, with the odd reference to Markus thrown in.
The start of the dream had been based in reality. Her last memories of her time with Markus came from sitting in that cell. Well, her last memories of him until a handful of days before. Despite being a prisoner she’d been happy then. Markus had returned her love, promised to escape and find her if they were ever separated. Minutes later they were. Guards had stormed into the cell, dragging Markus and several other prisoners away.
There had been no betrayal by Markus, no rejection. Not then, anyway. Her path had crossed Markus’s again just a few short days earlier, and she had learnt everything
she thought she knew about him had been false. He’d been an Imperial agent posing as a slave, and she’d just been part of his cover.
He’d claimed to be someone else when they met again, claimed not to know her. Circumstances had exposed his lies and ultimately led to his death. Before he died he’d told Sal what he truly thought of her while under the effects of interrogation drugs. He’d told her how much disgust he felt for being with her, how he saw her as vermin.
Now Sal was left trying to pick up the pieces of her life. The dream had woven together the two conflicting emotions she wrestled with. The love she still felt for her Markus, even if he hadn’t ever really existed, and the pain and anger she felt whenever she thought of the real Markus. Or Andreas, as she had learnt his actual name was.
Often she wished she’d never discovered the truth. She wished she’d spent the rest of her life in ignorance, nursing memories of her lost love. Other times she wished it had been her that killed Markus, not Jess. Anger burning through her veins, she wanted to make Markus suffer, make him pay. The anger was so strong it scared her.
And then there were times, like now, when she just felt lost. So much of her previous life had been ripped away she felt cast adrift. Sometimes she even missed being a slave. Then at least life was straightforward, if never easy. She did what she was told and tried to survive. Now… well, now everything was so complicated. So difficult. What was the point? What was there to live for?
She sat on the bed in the dim light, blanket pulled tight around her, staring at nothing as dark thoughts pulled her deeper into depression.
* * *
Dash sat on the edge of the bed, mind whirling. He knew he should sleep but it wasn’t going to happen. He’d managed three hours before the worries and plans whirling around his head had jerked him awake. Another two hours of restlessness had convinced him to give up on sleep.
Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins Page 51