Suddenly the Wanderer was nudging for attention again. It sent across a second set of instructions, a follow-up to the first set. Jess scanned them quickly. Then, his excitement rising, he went back and read through them again.
It seemed he’d misunderstood. They hadn’t travelled here to find something. They’d come to do something. The Wanderer’s jump engines needed to be run in a very particular configuration. Quite what that would achieve was still unclear. It seemed to translate as your path will be cleared. Or was it your path will be created?
All thoughts of a trap had fled Jess’s mind, replaced by a mounting excitement. He waited impatiently as the Wanderer travelled to the specified coordinates, which were a marvel in themselves. There was leeway, but only a few hundred metres each way. For coordinates in empty space that was like setting down on the head of a pin.
To distract himself Jess studied how the jump engines would need to be used. The pattern was strange, completely different to anything he’d seen before. It was far more complex than the patterns required to enter and exit jump space. But what would it do?
Jess could sense the Wanderer was just as confused as he was. The ship echoed his excitement too. They were about to try something completely new, something that might be dangerous, even deadly. Jess found himself grinning.
The Wanderer indicated they were at the required coordinates. Jess smiled at the fact they were precisely on target. Not just within the margin of error but exactly where the coordinates specified. He went to activate the jump engines, then hesitated. What if there was a trap and it wasn’t what he’d imagined? What if the pattern would cause the jump engines to explode, or some other calamity?
A grim expression settled onto his face, completely at odds with the excitement he’d shown before. With Ali lost to him, what did it matter if he died? Whatever had taken control of Ali would perish at the same time. Maybe Ali would even feel free, for a brief moment.
Jess sent the command. The Wanderer’s jump engines activated. Jess could sense the change immediately. The feel of the engines, the way they drew power, was very different to normal. They were drawing more power, too, though not enough to cause problems.
Jess studied the sensor readings expectantly. He could sense the power being generated, could track the incredibly detailed shapes the jump engines were generating within both normal and jump space, but nothing else. The Wanderer was showing no signs of entering jump space. All the energy from the jump engines was flowing somewhere, but the sensors couldn’t follow it any further. It entered jump space then seemed to disappear.
Jess waited impatiently for something to happen as seconds stretched into minutes. The amount of energy the jump engines had expended would be enough to push an entire fleet into jump space, yet still nothing had happened. Was something wrong? Were the engines slightly off? Was this much energy truly needed?
Or had his initial thoughts been right? Were they in the wrong place? Was the energy being poured away without achieving anything? Worst of all was the uncertainty, the not knowing whether he was wasting his time. How long could he risk staying here? How long before the chasing fleet caught him, yet again?
He thought the Wanderer could hold them off for a while with the new shields, but did he really want to put that to the test? The fleet had surprised him before. He didn’t want to risk that happening again. Running the calculations, he decided he could spare ninety minutes. It should be plenty. If nothing had happened in that time then he was sure nothing ever would.
* * *
Forty-five minutes. That’s how long it had been since Jess activated the Wanderer’s jump engines. Forty-five minutes and nothing to show for it.
Jess drummed his fingers on the arm of the pilot’s chair. They were halfway to his self-determined limit but nothing had changed. The Wanderer’s jump engines continued to pour out energy which just kept vanishing into empty space. The Wanderer was no help. It had no explanation, no theory, but it remained convinced they were doing the right thing. That the instructions were correct and it would just take a little more time.
Jess considered stopping, writing it off as a failure and getting back on course. He couldn’t do it. What if just a few more minutes, or even seconds, would be enough?
A seductive line of thought, and a dangerous one. Jess started to realise how easy it would be to let his deadline slip. To wait just a minute more, then another, then five. He resolved to stick to the deadline. The moment ninety minutes was up they were leaving.
* * *
Eighty-nine minutes. Only bloody mindedness kept Jess waiting. He’d expected leaving after ninety minutes would be difficult. In fact not leaving sooner had been the real challenge.
He was certain they were achieving nothing now. The instructions had been garbled, or they were hopelessly out of date. Either way, nothing was going to happen. He watched the final few seconds tick down. Then he let the engines run for another thirty seconds, just in case. Still nothing happened. There was no temptation to continue any longer. With a deep sigh Jess sent the command to shut down the jump engines.
Nothing happened. The engines kept running, kept pouring energy into jump space. Jess sent the order to shut them down again. And again. Still no response. He queried the Wanderer, wondering if the ship was somehow blocking his orders. It wasn’t. It was as surprised as Jess, and as worried.
Jess started running diagnostics. The commands were getting through, the jump engines just weren’t reacting to them. Or couldn’t. He fought down the rising panic. Without jump engines the Wanderer would be at the mercy of the fleet when it arrived. With a stationary target the fleet’s weapons would wear down the Wanderer, and their boarding shuttles would be able to deliver more troopers. The mining drones could only hold off a few troopers at a time. A large force would wipe them out in seconds.
Panic was still threatening to overwhelm Jess. He used his implants to release chemicals which would relax his body without inducing sleepiness, then studied the problem more calmly and came up with a plan. The positioning of the Wanderer had been critical to whatever was happening. All he had to do was move the ship a few hundred metres and the effect should break down.
Jess started the Wanderer moving. Nothing happened. The thrusters were pushing but the Wanderer wasn’t going anywhere. Something was holding the ship locked in place. The jump engines. Something about the effect they generated was holding the Wanderer fast. The normal engines couldn’t begin to exert enough force to overcome the effect, and they’d rip the ship apart if they did.
Jess cursed. He’d been right after all. It had been a trap. And he’d flown the Wanderer straight into it.
Chapter 51
Clay flew his fighter on automatic, his thoughts turned towards what he needed to do. He’d already hacked several systems in the fighter, including overriding the engine control routines with his own custom version. Now all he had to do was enter the correct code and twenty seconds later his fighter would disappear in an explosion.
The rest of his changes were designed to ensure he wasn’t still in the fighter at that point, while convincing everyone else that he was. The ejection mechanism, on-board cameras, life support and other systems that could give away his absence had all been tweaked.
Everything was set. All he had to do was get close to Greenseed station at the right time, start the detonation countdown and ensure he was well clear before the explosion. Then he had to reach the station, an easy task as the ejected seat would have basic manoeuvring thrusters. Entering the station would be easy, he could override civilian emergency locks in his sleep.
He would have to merge himself into the population. A station the size of Greenseed would be sure to have a few people living on the margins, and with the influx of people from the Imperial ships it would be easy for Clay to pass unnoticed. To the Imperials he’d be just another station civvie. To the residents of Greenseed he’d be just another of the Imperial interlopers.
He couldn’t s
tay undetected forever but he didn’t need to. He would ship out on one of the supply ships. Then… well, he didn’t know. He couldn’t plan that far ahead. For the moment all that mattered was getting away from the Imperial fleet, and the Cobra, as quickly as possible.
An updated patrol pattern came in. It would take him in close to Greenseed before sweeping far out through the station’s impressive defences. Each loop would take seventeen minutes. That suited him fine. He would swing by Greenseed frequently enough that he could choose the perfect time. Once the influx of Imperials had things in the station sufficiently confused Clay would make his move.
Until then he just had to wait. Wait and pray he wasn’t reassigned onto a different patrol. Having an engine explosion probably wouldn’t cause too close an investigation. Heading far off his expected course, approaching the station and then having his engine blow certainly would.
* * *
Jess was becoming more and more frantic. All his efforts to override the jump engines came to nothing. In desperation he forced the Wanderer to cut all power to the engines. The flow dropped to zero. The engines kept running.
“That’s impossible,” Jess muttered.
He tried to make sense of the readouts he was seeing. Power had been cut to the engines, that was certain, but somehow they were still active. Jess pounded the arm of his chair. This couldn’t be happening. Why hadn’t he trusted his instincts?
What else could he do? Every idea he had was flawed in some way. Except one. Physically break away from the jump drives. Reform the ship so the jump drives were not connected, then simply slip away. He was pretty certain it would work.
He’d never know for sure. Breaking the main ship away from the jump drives would take several hours at least. The chasing fleet would arrive long before then. Even if Jess could find a way to dump the drives more quickly the Wanderer would still be left helpless, stuck in normal space. Creating even the most basic of new jump engines would take half a day. Half a day he didn’t have.
So he kept looking for alternatives, for a way to recover control of the jump engines or a way to break the effect, knowing every minute that passed brought the Imperial fleet closer.
* * *
Sal still lay in her cell, faking sleep. The quiet state of her body was in sharp comparison to the activity in her mind. Through the newly grown implants she had control of all the ship’s major systems. The Imperial warship was now hers, though she was careful not to let anyone realise.
It wasn’t enough. She could keep herself safe from those in the ship and she could control the ship itself, including its engines, weapons and shields. But as soon as she exerted control over the ship the rest of the fleet would be alerted, and they would soon see to it that the ship, and Sal, were destroyed.
Could she spread the Gift to people on nearby ships using her implants and the ship’s systems? That was something which hadn’t been possible for any of the Gifted before. With her implants she thought it could be done. The problem would be choosing the target. She needed a ship that could see her safely away from the fleet. The battlecruiser would be an ideal target, but would she ever get close enough to it?
She delved into the information on the fleet, looking for any other ships that might offer a chance. Suddenly she stopped. Of course! How had she forgotten those? One of those would be perfect! Now she just had to hope one came close enough to her ship once they returned to normal space.
* * *
Admiral Vorn sat in his command chair, watching the bridge bustling around him. There was no good reason for him to be in direct command at that moment, but something prevented him leaving. Excitement had wormed its way into his body.
The next time they caught the Wanderer would also be the last. No more chasing. The Omega Beam was initialised and ready to be fired. It might take hours, it might take days, but the moment would come and the Wanderer would flee no more.
Vorn frowned at his screen. The Wanderer had changed direction. The change was only just visible but it had definitely started to move to the right. Vorn watched for a few minutes, ensuring the change of course wasn’t just a ruse, then ordered the Starslayer out of jump space.
They hit real space, closely followed by the rest of the fleet. Vorn calculated the course needed to make their path meet the Wanderer’s and transmitted it. Then all he could do was wait impatiently for the jump engines to be ready to activate again.
* * *
As the Shogan dropped out of jump space Sal studied the nearby ships. She quickly identified a suitable target. The Dark Shadow. Not only was it just what she wanted, the captains of the Shogan and the Dark Shadow often called each other. The Dark Shadow’s captain wouldn’t see anything unusual about receiving a call.
Sal felt her heart beat faster as she placed the call. If this didn’t work she would be exposed as one of the Gifted, and by far her best chance of escaping would be gone, but the chance to escape on such a powerful ship was more than worth the risk.
* * *
The captain of the Dark Shadow wasn’t really asleep. He dozed, but no more. He never did sleep well aboard the ship. He felt the same discomfort when he was awake. It wasn’t unusual, he knew. Most of the crew shared the feeling, as did the crews of the Empire’s other Banshees.
Not that he wanted to leave. The Banshee was a marvel. Most obviously for its ability to cloak, to effectively become invisible. The ship had far more going for it, though. Its weapons were far stronger than those on the much larger Imperial corvettes. It could soak up a lot of damage, too, far more than any other ship of its size. It was everything he could dream of commanding.
But Banshees were a nightmare, too. It was never officially spoken of, but the Banshees were clearly not designed for humans. All the important parts were; the screens, controls and seats on the bridge. The bed, desk and small bathroom area in his quarters. All of it was boringly familiar. Reassuring. A little at least.
There were constant reminders humans were interlopers, though. The corridors had been designed with a shorter, wider species in mind. The captain and his taller crew members had learnt to duck when moving between rooms. The dark, almost oily looking, surfaces of the original ship showed through everywhere; in gaps between screens, in the material visible under the desks. His cabin was the one exception, a privilege of rank. No sign of the ship’s real structure could be seen in his cabin.
It was an unspoken acknowledgement of the ship’s effect on people, and was supposed to give the captain somewhere to fully relax. It didn’t work. Not for him, at least. He could still feel the ship’s structure smothered by the human fittings. Many of his bad dreams started with the ship shaking off those fittings, its black surfaces bursting forth to trap the human interlopers. From there the dreams invariably turned nasty.
His eyes flew open as a warbling alarm accompanied the crash of a hard exit from jump space. The alarm changed to a far gentler tone a few moments later. He was already out of bed and halfway to the door, but stopped on hearing the changed tone. There was no immediate threat. Moving to his console he opened a channel.
“Bridge here, Captain.”
“What’s our status?” he snapped out.
“Course change, Captain. We have the new destination. The fleet is cycling jump engines ready to go.”
“No threats in the area?”
“No, Sir.”
“All right. I’m going to get some more sleep. Notify me immediately if anything changes.”
“Of course, Captain.”
He turned towards his bed. A shudder shot down his spine at the thought of what might wait in his dreams. He turned back to his desk, dropping heavily into the seat in front of the terminal. Sleep could wait. If necessary he’d get something from the doctor to stay alert. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He stared at the screen, too tired to work but not tired enough to risk sleeping. He was spared the decision when he received an incoming call. He smiled when he saw it was from the Shogan�
��s captain. The two of them often spoke. No doubt this call would be to complain about playing nursemaid to the new prisoner.
He accepted the call, enabling video. The screen flashed to life. To his surprise it wasn’t the Shogan’s captain he saw. It was a woman. A woman with amazing eyes. Eyes that drew him in. Eyes he was becoming lost in.
He could have resisted if he’d tried. The transmission medium had robbed the effect of its usual power. He didn’t. It didn’t occur to him. It took him long seconds to make the connection between the woman on screen and the prisoner aboard the Shogan, and by then it was too late. He tried to struggle, to break free. No matter what he did he found his gaze locked to the woman’s eyes.
Then something changed. The flow seemed to reverse and something horrific was forced into his mind, into his soul. He would have screamed, if only he could. This was so much worse than the nightmares he’d grown used to, and this time there would be no waking up.
* * *
Sal fought back a gasp as her connection to the Dark Shadow’s captain was abruptly severed. The fleet had returned to jump space. Communication between ships was impossible once again.
Had there been enough time for the captain to receive the Gift? She had to assume there had, in which case her plan was well underway. Now she needed to lay the groundwork for the next stage… escaping from the Shogan.
Chapter 52
Vorn checked the display again. Nothing had changed. The fleet was a few degrees off the direct course to the Wanderer but that could easily be fixed by a quick diversion into real space. Besides, being off course had turned out to be a blessing. They’d let him confirm that the Wanderer was once again stopped in real space.
Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins Page 88