"Indeed. And today, in Raven's place, she would likely have not required any assistance to dispatch the Darkness." Beam raised a finger. "Let me warn you, destroying one of these entities is one thing. She might manage two. But she is not yet strong enough, by herself, to fight off even a small team of them working together."
"That's for tomorrow," replied Wolff, "this is today. And the first thing we need to do is go intercept the transport they sent to Mars. Though, I'll contradict myself. I think the first thing we need to do is go get Raven. I'm concerned they got so close to her; they might try again with better results."
"And then see if we can use her, or at least find out what she did, to take out the one in solar orbit?" asked von Barronov.
"Yep."
Beam said, "I will stay here and find it, and compute the necessary course and relative speeds for you. When you return, call my name."
"All right."
"But I would suggest you pick up Delaney on the way back, so Raven can explain what she did, and let the two of them together destroy it."
"That's . . . not a terrible idea," agreed Wolff.
"Even I agree with it," nodded Harbinger.
"Good. I was going to ask you. I don't want to risk Delaney unless you agree – not that you own her, or some other hyper-masculine bullshit, but because you have a stake in her survival."
"Yes," replied Harbinger, "and not just hers. She hasn't told you yet, or her mother or her father, but she's pregnant."
Wolff's face lit up. "Is she, now. Congratulations! How far along?"
"She was going to tell you all next week. The baby just reached thirty days. Well, both of the babies; they're twins."
"Her grandmother is going to be ecstatic."
"Oh – you mean, Sarah. Indeed she will. I know Kat and my mother will also be extremely pleased."
"Be careful, though," warned Beam. "That much power may be dangerous to the babies."
"True enough," acknowledged Wolff. "Perhaps we'll simply have her watch so she can see what Raven does."
Harbinger snorted. "Good luck with that."
"Well." Wolff huffed a bit, but knew when he was likely to be outmatched. "We'll see. In the meantime, I need a course set for Devlin's, Chris."
"Rotate, or warp?"
Wolff looked pensive. "I don't know if I want to rotate, if the Darkness have their sights set on Devlin's for some reason, but warp will take too long . . . unless we try the new mod."
Von Barronov looked askance at him. "Warp 6?"
"You cannot go that fast," cautioned Beam.
"Why not?"
"There is a speed limit, even in warp. The Originators knew this. Warp 5 was as fast as even they dared go."
"We've sent drones through at a notional Warp 6 successfully."
"You have?" Beam looked astonished. "When?"
"Now I know," Wolff confided to von Barronov, "what he looks like when he's bamboozled. Several, over the last few months," he told the avatar. "I think you've been busy. Anyway, at Warp Six, we could be at Devlin's, 137 light-years away, in just over two hours instead of nearly six days."
"Can you do this now, that is, is your pinnace equipped to do Warp 6?"
"We can and she is," confirmed von Barronov. "We were ready to do full-scale tests when this little mess dropped into our laps. And we did actually blip her out to the Kuiper Belt the other day just to make sure everything was set up correctly for full-scale."
"Blip." Beam made the word sound distasteful.
"Yes. Blip. It took about three seconds to get outside the Belt, seven light-hours from Sol."
"I wish to observe this trip," said Beam. "Though I am not sure I can maintain my avatar at such speeds. Which is one thing I would like to ascertain."
"Call STC Clarke and tell them we're heading out towards Devlin's, to test a new drive element," Wolff told von Barronov, who flashed him an "OK" signal and started talking into his headset to the space traffic control net.
"They're wondering what the fuck is wrong with us to be running a test when things are going to hell over Mars and down on Earth, but they didn't really dare say no," reported von Barronov.
"Okay. Everybody strapped in? Beam, I don't know if your avatar needs to, but you know best."
Beam sat down in the vacant seat next to Harbinger, and went through the motions. "I would prefer you feel that I am safely secured."
"Thanks. Are we ready? Harb?"
"All set, General."
"Stand by for maneuvers." Wolff maneuvered the Bandersnatch into position, which for a warp trip meant primarily that she was pointed in the direction von Barronov had indicated via the navigation controls. "Last chance to bail, because," and he snapped a switch, "here we go!"
In the aliglass port, the stars winked out.
"That's interesting," noted von Barronov. "Normally they stay visible."
"They are there," said Beam, "look to the center of the viewport, dead ahead."
Something that looked like a tiny globular cluster, massively blue-shifted, could be seen in the direction indicated. "Wow," said Wolff. "That means we must really be traveling."
"What did you figure for Warp 6?" asked Harbinger, curious. "How many lights?"
"It worked out to just over 525,000 times light speed," replied Wolff, absently. "A hundred light years in a hundred minutes."
Harbinger whistled, lowly, and sat back in his seat.
"It is a very deep warp," said Beam. "I am able to maintain contact, but it would be difficult if we went much faster. Please do not invent a way to go to Warp 7."
Wolff chuckled, and von Barronov chuckled with him. "We suspect we'd be dipping into the Abyss itself, if we warped that deep," von Barronov assured him. "And we have no interest in doing that."
"One hopes not," replied Beam, "since doing so would destroy both yourselves and your ship."
"In fairness," said Wolff, "if we assume a notional Warp 7 would be a hundred light years in a hundred seconds, it would make more sense to just rotate and be done with it." He frowned. "Which, like I said, I'd do right now if I thought we could get away with it. Chris, do you hear something odd?"
Von Barronov cocked his head. "Like sand blowing across the hull?"
"Yes." Wolff looked up, not really knowing why; he couldn't see the hull from underneath. "I find it hard to believe we're plowing through something like sand. I'd think the warp shock would prevent that."
Von Barronov shrugged. "I don't like it, but I suppose we'll find out what it is when we get where we're going."
◆
"USS Star of the Orient, RV Frumious Bandersnatch calling on 15 meters . . . USS Star of the Orient, come in, please."
"RV Frumious Bandersnatch, this is USS Star of the Orient. We read you five by five. What can we do for you, General von Barronov?"
"Good whatever it is aboard your ship, Communications Officer Ashraf." The two had been friendly for some years, and naturally each recognized the other's voice. "What is your current status, over?"
"The code word you're looking for is 'just peachy', General," came back Ashraf, sounding somewhat amused. "Thanks to your friend's granddaughter. I gather you already know we were pirated?"
Von Barronov's eyebrows went up. "You were? We knew something else was going on, when were you pirated?"
"Before that."
"In warp?"
"Yeah, dumb right? But I suppose that's not why you've driven all the way out here to rendezvous with us."
"Well, no, but tell me what happened to the pirates."
"Raven – that is to say, Miss Fox – was apparently awakened by them while they were still in the corridor outside her stateroom. She proceeded to shoot four of them, got three to surrender, and then forced them into an airlock and spaced them."
Von Barronov's jaw dropped; Wolff snorted, and started laughing, quietly.
"Then she came up to the bridge and . . . hell, General, you're not going to believe this, not sure I believe it and I saw it,
but before she and her Marines came through the hatch, the six pirates in here holding us at gunpoint just . . . disappeared."
Harbinger, who actually knew the Marines in question, and was, of course, married to Raven's sister, just nodded his head, sagely. "Well. I mean. She's Delaney's sister. So there's not much shock, there."
"Sorry, sir, I didn't catch that."
"Just cat-calling from the peanut gallery," replied von Barronov. "On the other hand, you've got General Wolff sitting here about to kill himself not laughing out loud. So then what happened?"
"Well, just when everybody thought the whole thing was over, one of the pirates appeared in the bridge hatchway, screaming some crazy shit about how he'd found himself outside the main airlock and managed to cycle himself back in before he suffocated. And then he shot at Raven."
Wolff stopped laughing, abruptly. "He shot Raven?"
"General Wolff? No, sir, he shot at Raven. Raven . . . somehow deflected it."
"Ah." Wolff looked relieved. "Her mother did . . . something like that, years ago. Go on."
"And then her Marines shot the pirate. He's in Medical getting patched up, and Lt. Moore is going to interrogate him when he wakes up."
"What happened to the other five pirates?"
"They're just . . . gone, sir."
Wolff looked over his shoulder. "Harb, when we board, I want you to go to the bridge and get a statement from Ashraf. Also get copies of any vids and holos they may have."
"Aye, aye, General."
"Ashraf, make ready for us to dock at your bridge airlock. We're coming aboard. No ceremony, please."
"Aye, aye, sir. I will inform the Captain, and the Second Mate is nodding his head yes."
"Very well, thank you, Ashraf. I hate to barge in, but we need to talk to Raven, urgently."
"We'll wake her up for you, sir. She sort of collapsed after that . . . thing . . . attacked us."
"Shit. Okay, ten minutes. Takes a few to latch on."
◆
Ten minutes later, he'd swung the outer hatch open, and beheld the outer hatch of the Star's Airlock A1. "How in the fuck did this hatch get blood all over it?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.
"I dunno, but look at our hatch," said von Barronov. "This doesn't look good."
Wolff turned and looked at the hatch. "Shit."
The hatch looked like something had scoured it. There was deep scoring in the hullmetal and all the paint had been wiped off.
"What in hell could do that?"
"Warp 6, would be my guess," hazarded von Barronov. "We were going awfully fast. Stuff that's too small to bother us at Warp 5 may very well not be so innocuous at much higher speeds."
"Worry about it later," grunted Wolff. He banged on the Star's hatch, since the controls were locked out. He saw a head pop up to the viewport, then the hatch started to swing inward.
"Welcome aboard the Star, Generals," came from inside the airlock. Captain Jackson stepped forward, extending a hand. Wolff took it and shook; then he got out of the way and von Barronov repeated the greeting. Harbinger followed, and the two men shook hands; Harbinger then murmured excuses and headed for the bridge.
"Your granddaughter is something else," said Jackson. "I gather Ashraf told you the piracy story."
"Yes, but she had good training, so even as a civilian I'd expect no less. Which doesn't mean I'm not proud as hell of her," grinned Wolff. "I do sort of wish she'd held those pirates she spaced for interrogation and trial, but no harm no foul. The old ways never worked and the law is cognizant of that."
"Well, we captured one," said Jackson, "and he was apparently the leader, so he should be able to tell us just what in the hell that group was about, coming on board as passengers and then pirating us in warp. I mean, sir, they never steal the ships themselves; they want the ships to keep coming, after all. Typically they take the passengers – well, the young ones, anyway – and the valuables, and leave the crew and whatever passengers didn't meet their standards to fly her on to port." He shook his head. "Why they wanted the whole ship, I have no idea. It's not as if the Star is a warship."
They walked the short distance to Jackson's wardroom, and entered to find Raven stretched out on the table, two of the three members of FTSA2 gathered around her, and a female medical technician checking her vitals.
"Generals, sirs," said Blake, with a half-salute, echoed by Rafe; wrong place, wrong time for the real thing. Blake went on, "Pete's in Medical, interrogating the pirate we captured."
"Hi, Blake, Rafe," said Wolff. "I hate to tell you this, but I have to take Raven home. We have big problems and I think she can fix one of them pretty handily, if she works with Delaney to do it."
"Sir, that's fine with me, probably will be with Pete, too, but you may have some trouble prying her loose from Rafe," cautioned Blake, pointing at the two's interlocked hands.
"If he wants to go, that's fine," said Wolff. "Heard he had something to do with solving the little problem outside the hull."
"Sir," said Rafe, looking up. "She needed power. I was able to channel it to her."
"Then I definitely want you to come back with us."
Pete walked back into the wardroom at that point, looking discouraged. Seeing Wolff and von Barronov present, he did stop short, come to attention, and salute. "Sorry, sirs, wasn't expecting you to be here."
Wolff returned the salute crisply. "Job well done, Lieutenant."
"I wish I could agree," Pete replied, looking down again. "Prisoner died as soon as I applied the truth juice. Apparently he was conditioned against it."
"Well, damn." Wolff sighed. "We were that close. I guess you'll have to continue your mission down on Devlin's, Pete, but I'm afraid you'll have to do without Rafe, this trip."
Pete shrugged. "It's okay, sir. Our orders were pretty flexible. We're mostly going to poke around and see if we can find any activity we can connect with the pirates, since Devlin's is pretty far out; the idea was, they might have something of a base of operations out here in the hinterlands. So I think we can handle for once without Rafe."
"Hrmf. Yes. I have a copy of your orders, and I would tend to agree they're doable even if you're short-handed." He looked at the medical tech. "How is she, Lieutenant?"
The tech looked up. "General, I would say she's fine; all of her vitals are good, she's just exhausted. Like she'd just run a marathon. I gather that's not altogether a bad analogy."
"Can you wake her up?"
"I'm awake," said Raven, suddenly opening her eyes and looking over at her grandfather. "Hi, Grumpaw. How's life in the clean world?"
Wolff did not laugh, but his eyes filled with mirth. After a moment, he said, "We need to take you home. Got another one of those bowling balls to deal with. At least I assume that's what you saw."
"Yes. Grumpaw, I have a gig tonight . . . "
"You'll have to cancel. We'll bring you back out on the Bandersnatch or the Tumtum at a later date to make it up." He looked sad. "I'm truly sorry, Raven."
"Oh, I know, Grumpaw. I was going to say, 'but I think you need me more.'" Raven's lip curled up in a smile, which Wolff matched.
"Then the sooner we get you off that table and on your feet, the better. Captain, can we get a steward to bring her things up from her stateroom?"
"Yes, General, I'll see to it. Give me ten minutes. I'll also have Ashraf contact the music hall and let them know what's up. I'm sure they'll be accommodating under the circumstances." He paused for a moment, then continued, "You know, I breveted her to Lieutenant Commander so she could have some cover for spacing those pirates, and authority to take back the bridge. That's going into my report."
Wolff chuckled. "Really. You'll need to tell me all about that while we wait at the airlock for Raven's gear. By the way, please tell Ashraf to let the concert organizers know they can relay comm my office, collect, to make new arrangements for her gig. Ready, Raven?"
"Yes, Grumpaw. Did I hear you say I could take Rafe with me?"
&
nbsp; "I did. After this, I think you owe him at least one date. Dinner and dancing, your choice of venue, my treat."
Raven looked at Rafe. They both grinned.
Chapter 11
The Warrior, Redux
"Well, that's a job well done," sighed Delaney.
Several hours after helping Yael put the two halves of Phobos back together, refilling the interior with all the spilled junk, and assisting with the boost to get the little moon back into its proper orbit, the ladies were relaxing in the office/rec room just off the Tumtum's hangar. Like its twin at the Wolff's home, the office featured a bar on one wall, supplied with the latest von Barronov craft beers, as well as plenty of other tasty things to drink; and in the capable hands of Sergeant-Major Fred Fox, who'd generously agreed to bartend and supply snacks while the group were putting Phobos back together again, the tipple was also flowing, moderately – except that Delaney was sticking to non-alcoholic stuff.
Devorah was with them because Ariela had insisted she would need all of three of her Earth-located daughters for the cleanup of the alien bowling ball in Chicago, and to help Yael put Phobos back together – and in any case, the SAR mission in Chicago had rapidly devolved into a standard "pick up the rubble and bag the bodies" mission. Devorah's colleagues, Don and Elise, had been pulled off the mission, too – exhausted, they needed some downtime before they went out again, and their boss had insisted they take 24 hours off and report back afterwards. Devorah hoped she'd be able to return by then.
There had been only the seventeen survivors pinpointed by Yehudit and Delaney. Even scan from orbit by Space Force had been unable to find anyone else alive.
"I tried to contact Yael again, to see if she wanted us to come get her," said Ariela, humorously, "but she seems to have fallen asleep. I'm sure Elon will see she's well taken care of, though."
Devorah snorted. "He'll probably want to give her a parade through Terra Meridiani, and give her a 'Hero of Mars' medal, or something," she said, but not unkindly. "I was really impressed with her stepping up. I always knew she had it in her," she confided.
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