by T J Mott
Especially after the mess he’d made at the Waverly Depot. Anyone in the system who might have chanced to help him before would now be completely against him, if only out of simple patriotism.
But the holographic map did show one other star system, currently eleven light-years from the frigate. Like all the other star systems in Waverly’s vicinity, it was completely unpopulated, completely unused by industry, yet it had one seemingly unimportant detail that could be the key to Thaddeus’s escape.
He tapped the touchscreen surface of the conference table, manipulating the map to center it on this somewhat unusual star. He expanded the image and the star grew in size, becoming a deep red, one-meter sphere above the table. A detailed table of the star’s cataloged properties—size, mass, luminosity, chemical composition, and more—floated beside it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and closing. Senior Captain Reynolds stepped into the room.
“Is our crew starting to lose it?” Thaddeus asked.
Reynolds pursed his lips and then nodded slightly. “Morale is…not good. Now we have shouting matches in the Command Center.” He stepped up to the table, seated himself, and ran a hand through his thick gray hair. “To be frank, though, this one wasn’t entirely unexpected. Bennett has never been one to handle stress well, and Poulsen is a time bomb of repressed anger. I’ve done my best to keep them both on a tight leash, for different reasons, but I can’t be everywhere all the time. And I fear that was just the first outburst of many more to come if we don’t get things under control soon.”
“Same here,” Thad said with a sigh. “None of the crew will talk openly to me, apart from you and a couple others, but I can tell they are not doing well. The crew’s depressed mood is feeding on itself now.” I know how that works.
“We have to offer them hope, Admiral, a viable means of escape. If we don’t, morale will only get worse. And eventually, we may run the risk of mutiny.”
Mutiny. Thad grimaced. He had long feared the possibility. After all, a crew that generally questions the sanity of their senior commander would not hesitate to ditch him under the right circumstances, if they thought the need was great enough. Like, for example, the need to survive. For years he had done his best to counter the risk with excessively high pay grades, and so far it had worked out.
But High Prince Saar’s newest bounty was well-known, and high enough that even the most loyal of Thad’s crew might face temptation if their situation got too challenging.
“What can you tell me about the Hyberian Raiders?” Thad asked.
Reynolds’ tilted his head to one side and opened his mouth slightly. “You don’t know about the Hyberian Raiders?” Thad shook his head. “They were a big, elite mercenary company many years ago. Very well-organized and well-trained, and often considered one of the best private fleets in the galaxy. But then they were destroyed during a contract in the Sapphire Cluster, oh, eight or nine years ago. The Cluster was at war with the Thorel Republic, and Thorel used an antimatter warhead which wiped out their entire group before they deployed.”
Thad grunted. “Antimatter ruins everything.”
“Since then they’ve become somewhat legendary, and every two-bit spacer wants to pretend they were a member. It’s just stolen valor though.”
“Stolen valor? Interesting.”
“Why is that? What do the Hyberian Raiders have to do with anything?”
Thaddeus pointed at the giant holographic star that floated half a meter in front of him. “During that outburst in the Command Center, Lieutenant Poulsen claimed she was with them, but she refused to discuss it when I debriefed her. It clearly upset her when I mentioned them.”
“Hmm. I always knew she was hiding from something in her past, but I never would have guessed that.”
Thaddeus shrugged. “I don’t know what to think of it. Anyway, she came up with a plan of escape. And I guess Bennett tried to shut her down and that’s what set her off.”
Reynolds stroked his chin. “He shut something down, but he was somewhat incoherent when I debriefed him. I’m afraid he’s starting to crack. I relieved him of his duties and confined him to quarters for now. Poulsen as well until we sort this out.” Reynolds frowned and shook his head. “He’s been a fair XO as long as I keep a close eye on him, but now I’m not sure if I really want to keep him here once this is all over.”
“Well, Caracal personnel decisions are entirely at your discretion. Anyway, back to Poulsen. She wants to try an unusual hyperspace maneuver that she claims to have learned from the Hyberian Raiders, which will lose our pursuit.”
Reynolds cocked an eyebrow. “Go on.”
Thad pointed at the star again. “This is a nearby red giant. A carbon star, to be exact. Very ancient. The reason it’s so red is the outer atmosphere is cool enough for the plasma to condense into molecules, and so it’s covered in clouds of carbon monoxide and hot soot.”
“With all due respect, Admiral, the astronomy lesson is not needed.”
Thad smiled at the rebuke. Reynolds was one of his few officers willing to be so straightforward with him. He greatly appreciated that, and wished the trait was more common in his organization. “The point is it’s not nearly as hot as a star still on the main sequence. Cool enough that we could put the ship into the upper atmosphere and remain there for a while.” He gazed into the holographic red blob. “According to Poulsen, the Hyberian Raiders discovered that a hyperdrive’s phi-band flashes are greatly distorted when activated there.”
Reynolds’ face flashed to an expression of cynical disbelief. “Conventional wisdom says you never activate a hyperdrive unless you’re in vacuum.”
“Conventional wisdom says we probably won’t escape from our pursuit,” Thad pointed out. “Not with a damaged cooling system. She says it has to be a giant star. Main sequence stars are too hot to enter the atmosphere. Brown dwarfs and gas giants are cool enough, but don’t have the mass required to distort the phi signal. It might also work near neutron stars or black holes, but we don’t have any of those nearby.”
He returned the holomap to its previous view. The carbon star shrank to a small red point, and the reference grid and the frigate’s icon returned. He tapped another button and a course to the carbon star appeared as a dotted yellow line. “It will be tough to get to the star in one jump, given our cooling system damage, but Poulsen thinks she can do it. They’ll track us there but they shouldn’t have a good enough profile to catch us just yet. So we dive into the upper layers of the star, and then jump out from there.”
A translucent, pale yellow cone appeared, with its apex centered within the carbon star. “Thing is, jumping like this is very imprecise. That’s one of the reasons the phi signal is so distorted. Hyperspace itself is somehow distorted by this. But we know we’ll pop out somewhere over here. And if we make at least an eight light-year jump, the cone of uncertainty on our course is so broad that it’s unlikely for anyone to track us well enough to be in detection range when we exit hyperspace. At that point, we can continue on at our leisure.”
“I can almost see why Bennett tried to shut this down,” Reynolds said. “It sounds crazy.”
Thaddeus nodded. “I agree, but I don’t have enough background in hyperspace theory to really evaluate this. I studied a lot of physics, but we didn’t have hyperdrives on Earth.” Reynolds flinched at the mention of Earth. The flinch was nearly imperceptible, but Thad still noticed it. And he wondered if stress was finally catching up to Reynolds, too.
“My understanding of hyperspace theory is pretty basic, too, but if Poulsen thinks this can work…”
“So, do we trust her on this? Earlier, you made it sound like everyone who claims to be a Hyberian Raider is a liar.”
“They usually are, but if she’s been hiding it, not bragging about it…Admiral, she’s a wildcard with a lot of unknowns, but I have reasons to trust her.”
“If she’s right, it’s our best chance.” Thaddeus stood. “Put her plan
into action.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
“And Captain? Keep an eye on her. If she comes up with weird plans like this when she’s feeling backed into a corner…we might have much to learn from her.”
“Indeed.” Reynolds smiled. “You two might be more similar than I realized.”
Thad raised an eyebrow, and then left the conference room.
Chapter 14
The Caracal had safely arrived near the carbon star and was now struggling to accelerate up to a high sublight speed using only her two remaining main thrusters. And since both thrusters were on the starboard side of the ship, it was a long, slow ordeal. The pilot needed to keep the main thrusters at low power while continuously firing the far weaker maneuvering thrusters to counteract the torque generated by the unbalanced main thrusters and allow the ship to accelerate in a relatively straight line.
And to make matters worse, their hyperspace jump to the system had been a misjump. They had intended to arrive within a couple hours of the star, quickly reaching the outer atmosphere and hiding while the hyperdrive recharged for the next jump. But the frigate was damaged enough that ship-specific hyperspace equation parameters were no longer accurate, only very approximate. And as a result, the frigate had arrived nearly a day away from the star, at least at sublight speeds. They could risk one more jump to approach, but doing so would produce a set of very localizable phi-band flashes fairly close together. And they knew several ships had followed them there, and possibly even beaten them there, given their crippled cooling system and slow hyperspace speed. Any additional phi-band flashes would, ironically, allow the pursuers to calculate the Caracal’s hyperspace trajectory more accurately than the Caracal itself could.
And that would mean capture, or even death. Their pursuers could arrive at the frigate’s destination before the frigate itself, lying in wait and attacking as soon as the Caracal left hyperspace.
But it was all out of his control for the moment. Everything—his future, his search for Earth, even his own life—depended on Lieutenant Poulsen’s strategy of jumping from the carbon star’s upper atmosphere, which would highly distort their phi-band hyperspace entry flash and allow them to escape without being tracked…if what she claimed was true. If she had actually been a Hyberian Raider who had successfully performed such a maneuver in the past.
But Thaddeus could find no reason to distrust her. Despite her volatility, Senior Captain Reynolds obviously trusted her. And just like the rest of the crew, she wanted to survive. On its face, the maneuver seemed very dangerous and counter-intuitive, but why would she lie? Why would she recommend a maneuver that could destroy them all unless she knew it would work? He still feared the possibility of betrayal, or mutiny, but none of his crew would try to simply destroy the ship—and its crew, and themselves—outright. Poulsen was on his side, at least for now. It couldn’t be a bad thing to have one of the last remaining Hyberian Raiders with him, right? If the legends were true, they’d been an exceptionally competent and lucky force, and since she survived their destruction, she might be one of the most competent or the luckiest of the lucky.
But with so much on the line, he was worried. Or rather, he had been worried, but several rapid shots of the off-brand hard liquor he kept stashed in his cabin had quickly calmed his nerves. The worry was still there, but now it was subdued, pulled down to a subconscious level where it didn’t interfere with his thoughts quite so much.
Once the alcohol had taken effect, he’d found his way back to Commander Janssen’s office to ask about Adelia. And the doctor had assured him that she was recovering. The medications he’d prescribed were doing a good job at detoxifying her system and controlling her withdrawal symptoms. She’d need them for several weeks at minimum, but Janssen told him with no uncertainty that she would recover completely.
At least from the effects of the drugs. He’d been very hesitant to speak openly with Thaddeus, but Thad had insisted. And eventually the doctor had reluctantly admitted that Adelia would probably face psychological problems as time went on. And he also admitted that he wasn’t quite trained to deal with those issues. She’d have to hold on until they reached Headquarters, which had a larger, more diverse medical staff than the small frigate.
Thaddeus realized he didn’t really care much for Janssen. In fact, he didn’t care for most of the Caracal’s crew. At least Senior Captain Reynolds—and to some extent, even Lieutenant Poulsen, as he’d learned during his debrief of her, aside from her complete unwillingness to discuss the Hyberian Raiders—were willing to be open and honest with him, but too many others were either afraid of him, or, because of his preoccupation with Earth, unwilling to trust him and be open with him. He liked it when people were direct with him. And Janssen had not been direct, not until Thad had questioned him from fifteen different approaches, and, frustrated, finally demanded that the doctor speak freely, and even then the doctor’s reluctance was obvious.
It was as if the doctor thought he was somehow protecting Thaddeus by not expressing his reservations about Adelia’s mental state. And he didn’t understand that mentality, because even if Janssen hid it from him, he was bound to discover it eventually—if it happened. Some people were more resilient than others, and it was too soon to know how Adelia would fare long-term.
After speaking with the doctor, he’d made his way back to the now-clean Ward Three, where Adelia still rested, only tripping twice on the way. He’d slowed as he’d entered, taking his steps very deliberately so he’d stay in full control of his balance. His eyes still tried to drift around on him though, but he could hide that by blinking and continuously looking around at his surroundings.
And she was restless. She was fully alert, for now, though she still needed a lot of rest and sleep to help her through the battle between withdrawal symptoms and medicine that raged inside her bloodstream.
But Commander Janssen had agreed to allow her to leave the ward as long as she was accompanied, and as long as she returned afterwards until he was ready to formally release her. When that happened, Thad would get her assigned to one of the ship’s few VIP cabins.
She looked so much better now. She was still too thin, but she’d apparently had a chance to bathe and her long, dark, wavy hair was neatly brushed and flowing down her shoulders. Her face was still pale, but less mottled than before.
Beautiful. Thaddeus momentarily forgot about his search for Earth.
“She’s pretty malnourished,” Janssen had told him. “It may be a couple months for her to regain full strength, but she can move around the ship as long as you don’t let her overdo it. She still needs lots of rest.”
So Thaddeus had offered her a tour of the Caracal, and she, eager for a change of scenery, had agreed very quickly. And so now they were currently seated in the officer’s galley. He’d ordered the chef to serve her whatever she wanted to the best of his ability, and she had been taking full advantage of that, quickly obliterating a bowl of some kind of chili of questionable origin. She must have survived on very little during her time in slavery.
They had the room completely to themselves due to the odd hours. “So, you were going to tell me how you became an admiral,” she said after devouring her first bowl. “It’s still so hard to believe. Last I knew, you were just a junior engineer, and that wasn’t long ago…”
He grinned. “Yeah, me, an admiral. Who’d have thunk?” But his smile faded as soon as he began his story. “I was somehow abducted from my shuttle to Mars, and ended up as one of many slaves aboard a transport ship. I had no idea what was going on, and was soon sold at an auction to a freighter captain for manual labor. Scrubbing decks, loading and unloading cargo, that sort of stuff.” He frowned, and fought back a shudder, remembering when he’d read her description back on Headquarters Hangar Five after receiving Commodore Cooper’s data dump. Her life as a slave had been far worse than his…incomprehensibly so.
“They quickly realized I had some mechanical skills, and made me do basic maint
enance tasks. Well I learn quickly. They watched me like a hawk at first, in case I tried to sabotage anything. But after the first year, I guess I had proven myself. I learned everything I could. Mechanics, the types of fusion drives and thrusters they use out here, and eventually even got to work on the hyperdrive a few times.”
She looked at him uncertainly between bites of food. “You sound like that almost…excited you.”
He nodded solemnly. She was right. In hindsight, it had been an exciting time, and he felt ashamed of that. “I had it easy. Compared to you. At first I thought I had gone crazy or something, but then my curiosity took over. They didn’t even have to drug me to keep me under control, which is apparently somewhat rare. I wanted to learn everything about anything, and as long as they let me study I was pretty cooperative.” He shook his head. “Eventually, they trusted me enough to make me a shuttle pilot. My owner was the leader of a small-time, ragtag bunch of pirates. Really not that bad a guy, overall. Except for me being a slave, I suppose, and him being a pirate.”
She finished her bowl and wiped her lips with a napkin. “Your food is so much better than I’m used to,” she said.
Thad almost laughed. The frigate’s food was basic and bland, the kind of stuff kept on starships because it was cheap and stored well. “Just wait until we get to Headquarters. We have real food there. I make sure we import all kinds of stuff from around the galaxy.”
“What’s Headquarters like?” she asked.
“Honestly, it’s pretty boring. It’s a small asteroid I tugged out into deep space, light-years away from anything, and built a secret base on. The core of my organization is managed from there. Very few people know its location.”