Interstellar Mercenary

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Interstellar Mercenary Page 3

by Will Macmillan Jones


  Chapter three

  “Ladies and gentlemen, non-specific gender others and non-binary individuals from our non Terran friends.” The President delivered his opening to the Council and Senate of Serenopolis and paused to draw breath, with good reason I suppose. It is all too easy to offend these days and no ambitious politician offends other politicians casually. Deliberately, of course, but not casually. The rest of us don’t count, but other politicians get a bit more respect. Typical.

  “I am delighted to be able to inform the Council and Senate of our great Space City of Serenopolis that I have been able to fill the recently created post of Commander of the Space Defence Force by obtaining the services of an ex-military official with wide combat and post combat experience. Colonel Russell has agreed to take up his duties with immediate effect and therefore I am able to announce that our defences against the piratical incursions are immeasurably strengthened.”

  I was bored already. A swift look around the Serenopolis Senate Chamber showed that I was not alone. Several of the Senators present had perfected the art of sleeping discretely while the senior politicians were wittering on at length and were displaying their acquired skillset.

  The President waved towards my general direction. I half bowed to the assembly, and received a smattering of unenthusiastic applause. That seemed a decent enough cue to make my exit. I tried not to run out of the Chamber but as I left I did notice two members of the Council staring at me. In fact they were subjecting me to a closer inspection than the President had employed, but judging by their expressions it was considerably less friendly. Captain Hobbs was waiting by the door.

  “Who are those two giving me the eye, who don’t seem to like me very much?” I asked her.

  “Making more admirers, are you, Colonel?” she replied in a caustic tone.

  “I don’t think admirers is the right term.”

  Captain Hobbs opened up a little. “No, it wouldn’t be. They are members of the Consolidated Trading Group on the Council, and they think that spending on the Defence Force is a waste of time and money.”

  “Fans of yours then, are they?”

  “No, Colonel. A common foe, shall we say. Watch your back from that direction, too.”

  I began to suspect that I would be watching my back from so many directions that I’d spend all my time revolving. It was a good job I had a swivel chair in the office.

  “Right, Captain. Get all the crews into the briefing room in half an hour, and we’ll make a start.”

  “A start on what?”

  “On what I’m being paid for. To show you how to defend this city from space.”

  Captain Hobbs looked unimpressed. I grabbed her by the sleeve and glared at her. “Captain, you may not like me. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. But I have accepted the post of Commander of this sorry little fleet, and you will give me respect.”

  “Respect, Colonel, with respect, is earned. And so far, you’ve earned nothing in my eyes. You sneak thief around the galaxy in a pensioned off scout ship doing dodgy backhand deals and a bit of smuggling.”

  “Hey, a man’s got to earn a living!” I protested.

  “You’ve probably never done an honest day’s work in your life, have you?”

  “Captain, you know nothing about who I am and what I’ve done in my life.” I used my most serious tone, but made no impression at all on her.

  “I know that if you were any good, the President would not have hired you. He doesn’t want a decent, organised, Defence Force, just a show of strength if a few pirates show up near the shipping lanes out of the Star System. And as you are only one step up from a pirate yourself, you’ll manage that.”

  “What’s your problem, Captain?” I asked her. “Wanted the job yourself?”

  “No, Colonel. I know I can’t do it. But I was born here in Serenopolis, and want it defending properly. There are people here, families here, making their living from interstellar trade besides the big shots, and they deserve a Defence Force that can protect them as well. And I don’t think you have either the cojones or the skillset to do that. Which is probably why you’ve been hired. So my problem is you, Colonel. And the fact that you just aren’t good enough for this job.” With that she walked away, leaving me open-mouthed. And with plenty to think about.

  Politics. I hate politics, and by extension, politicians. You so rarely see a poor one, do you? It’s as if either you have to be rich to get into that club to start with, and if by chance some poor bloke or woman slips in then either they get kicked out pretty fast (if they are poor but honest) or quickly find a way to relieve at least one cause of their distress and get wealthy (if they are poor but dishonest). The idea that I was being set up to fail annoyed me. Not the risk to my reputation. As Captain Hobbs had pointed out, reputation-wise I was only one step away from being a pirate myself. I straightened my new flight suit with the Colonel’s epaulettes and strode down the corridor in her wake.

  By the time I had reached the flight crew briefing room, my temper was boiling nicely. I didn’t want to be a pirate – sorry, an independent trader – all my life. My brief encounters with Starker and Rosto had put me off a career as a spy – sorry, a diplomat – and so by extension I would have to find a decent post. Right now I might be a mercenary, but mercenaries have made a lot of money down the centuries and many have ended up with proper jobs and pensions afterwards. I could think of worse career progression. At least in future I could call myself a Colonel, so that was something already.

  I shoved the briefing room door open hard. Unfortunately, my dramatic entrance was spoiled when the door hit the wall and bounced back into my face, and I staggered into the room bleeding profusely from the nose. As first impressions go it was quite memorable, but in the wrong way. I cuffed the water out of my eyes, and pulling a tissue from my pocket to try and stem the blood flow I strode into the room. Twenty five chairs arranged into three rows faced a lectern and a whiteboard. I walked past the chairs, which were full of the flight crews, and stopped behind the lectern.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I am your new Commander.” I screwed up the bloodied tissue, shoved it into a pocket and pushed a fresh one up hard against my nose. There was a rustle of sniggering from the crews, which I decided to ignore. “For those who do not know, I am Colonel Russell, previously from The Free Union’s Space Corps.” Staring round the room, some of the slumped bodies straightened up a little, and paid attention. “That’s better. I’m here to show you how to fight.”

  “Been in combat have you, Colonel?” asked a dismissive voice.

  “Yes. At fleet level and at personal level.”

  “We’ve seen how you manage at personal level. How do we know it’s not us going to get a bloody nose when you take us out as a fleet?”

  There was a wordless rumble of agreement from the other crews. I leant one elbow on the lectern, and silently offered a prayer to any passing deity that the lectern did not collapse and drop me onto the floor.

  “You don’t right now. But if you watch and learn, you’ll see. You wouldn’t be the first squadron I’ve led, and believe me when I tell you – the number of ships we have is smaller than most Free Union or Imperium squadrons.”

  “Not as small as pirate fleets, though, Colonel.” That voice came from a short, red-headed crew member with pilot’s badges on his flight suit.

  “I’ve fought pirates, Starker’s Black Ops forces, Merchant Princes’ ships and various rebel forces across the galaxy for the last ten years. I’ve commanded ships and men before and been involved in a lot of covert ops. I’ve flown scout ships into hostile territory and got in and out of Colonel Starker’s home base. I’m still alive to tell the tale. I know how to fight, how to win and how to survive space combat, and I can teach you. Even you lot, yes, and you look more like a rabble than rebels to me right now.”

  I glared round the room. Now, at least, they were quiet, listening. “Right. I want the scout ship crews to lift off and assemble by the outer asteroid
belt, and wait for me.”

  No one moved.

  “Now!” I shouted.

  One of the scout ship pilots raised a hand, and I nodded at her. “Colonel, we aren’t allowed to do that.”

  “Why?”

  “The President has given us restricted flight hours, so that we do not conflict with the incoming commercial traffic.”

  “Some of you were in space when I entered the system.”

  “At the President’s direct order, Colonel. We were to intercept you and ensure your safety.”

  Captain Hobbs coughed, and all the crews looked at her. I looked at her too, and slowly she stood. “Colonel, I have the available flight patterns and hours that the Council has approved here.” She waved a sheet of paper in my direction. “We are allowed to lift ship in four hours’ time, for a flight window.”

  “Well, let’s hope that the pirates work office hours then, shall we? Rendezvous with me in five hours. I’ll see the StarDestroyer crews before that, starting in half an hour. Captain Hobbs, organise that for me, please. Dismissed. Captain Hobbs, a word.”

  “Colonel,” acknowledged Hobbs. She didn’t salute me, mind you. Some of the scout pilots did, which was a start at least. The crews all left the office, muttering quietly amongst themselves. I asked Captain Hobbs to wait until the last of them had left.

  “Tell me about the restricted flying hours?” I asked her.

  “Mostly it’s because of the Resolven Class ships. They have a number of parts that have to be replaced every five hundred flying hours, so the President ordered restricted flight time as spares are becoming difficult to buy now. And expensive.”

  “Components time lifed, are they? It’s not unusual in a combat ship.” Time lifed components were only authorised for use for a set duration of service lifetime, and then had to be changed - even if they were working perfectly. A costly part of operating a starship, and one I normally tried to ignore.

  “Yes. The President is trying to be careful with the budget for maintenance, so he has restricted the flight time to prolong service life.”

  “Of all the ships, or just the Resolven StarDestroyers?”

  “Well, that’s an interesting point, Colonel. You’d have to ask the President.”

  “Captain, I’m in charge of the Serenopolis Defence Force. I’ll set the flight times from now. You, Captain, have just become my Flag Lieutenant.”

  “But I’m a Captain!”

  “Okay, then you are the Flag Captain. Today, we are going to run an exercise so that I can assess the state of readiness and the general ability of the crews. Before I see all the StarDestroyer crews, please let the President know that I will want to see him tomorrow.”

  Captain Hobbs gave me a very straight look but I’ve been stared at by professionals in that field, and she looked away first. This time she did salute me, sort of, before leaving. Alone in the briefing room, I sat down at put my head in my hands. What had I got myself into here?

  *

  I pulled back the power on the main engines and touched the forward thrusters until the Speedbird slowed down and matched velocity with the group of scout ships that was holding position at the outer asteroid belt, as instructed. I felt a vague sense of satisfaction that at least that order had been followed.

  I opened the comms channel to the frequency I had specified to the scout pilots. “Seren Leader to Seren scout ships. Acknowledge.”

  One by one, the nine ships called in. I was mildly relieved that they had all come this far.

  “We are going to simulate an attack on the city. The StarDestroyers will defend the city. These are the rules of engagement: you attempt to evade the defenders and reach the spaceport. There will be no, repeat NO live firing. If a defence ship gets a missile lock on you, then you are out of the game. If you get a missile lock on a defender, so are they. Report any infringements to me.”

  “What are you going to do, Colonel?” asked one pilot.

  “Observe.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Pretend you are pirates. First one to the spaceport wins!”

  “Actually, this sounds like fun.” The pilot didn’t identify himself but I thought I could identify him as Rogett, who had a strong accent, and may well have been a pirate himself once, from his attitude to authority.

  I opened up the combat facility on the vidscreens, and watched as the scout ships started to fall down into the system towards Serenopolis. Four of the ships formed a diamond formation and accelerated hard towards the target. Two more set off at oblique angles, two began a loop around the system with the clear objective of heading inwards from a different starting point, and one ship did not move, but held its position. I used the vidscreen to identify the ship’s number painted near the rear engine pod and checked that against my flight roster. The pilot was Rogett. I thought about calling him, but decided to wait and see what exactly he was planning.

  The four ships in the diamond reached the half way point towards the city. There was no sign at all of the StarDestroyers, and I wondered what Captain Hobbs was plotting. Was she trying to make the whole exercise pointless, to undermine what I wanted to do before I had even begun? I touched the power lever, and the Speedbird began to move. The navcomm screens showed me that Rogett had matched my move and was holding formation on me. My suspicious instincts rose at once, and I prepared the Speedbird’s defence screens for immediate action. If Rogett planned to attack me, it would be too late to initialise the screens once he had started firing.

  The scout ships continued. Emboldened, the two outlying ships began to close in on the diamond formation. That was when Captain Hobbs made her move. She had split her flight of six StarDestroyers into two groups of three, and hidden them behind convenient small planets, or maybe large asteroids, inside the star system. Now one of the groups emerged from behind their concealing planetoid, and flung themselves right at the formation from a rear quarter. The scout ships scattered at once, and the StarDestroyers were calling in successful missile lock moments immediately.

  I sent the Speedbird down towards the spinning mass of ships with Rogett still shadowing me. Deciding that caution was advised, I put the defence screens into full operation. The whirling mass of ships suddenly split as two scout ships turned and dived towards the city at full power. The remaining scouts and two of the StarDestroyers dropped out of the combat. “Report to Base!” I ordered them as I sped past them, focusing intently on the scout ships heading for the city. The remaining group of StarDestroyers came out of their concealed position, and the scouts scattered. The scout ships that had looped around the system now appeared, and Captain Hobbs split the remaining StarDestroyers into two groups of two, and promptly took on the first pair of scouts. I made a mental note that she was a lot more competent in a combat scenario than she admitted. As the combat dance began on the far side of Serenopolis, the two closest StarDestroyers turned toward my Speedbird. The combat system screamed a missile lock warning, but I ignored it, and carried on towards the Space Port. The vidscreen suddenly flared with light and the Speedbird rocked violently throwing me off the pilot’s seat to the floor. Alarm warnings screamed, and the Speedbird swerved wildly off course. Shouting obscenities, I scrambled back to the flight console and regained control of the madly gyrating craft.

  “I said no live firing! Seren Leader to all ships. Halt the exercise now!”

  Captain Hobbs’ voice was calm and unruffled. “I am sorry Colonel, that appears to have been a computer malfunction. No missile releases were ordered or authorised.”

  I went cold at once. I really did not believe her. If I had not turned on my defence screens as a precaution, that missile would have blown the Speedbird apart. As it was, several damage alerts were flashing urgently at me from the flight console. I looked at the vidscreen. Rogett’s scout ship had joined the approach path for the space port. Further out into the system, the group of scout ships and StarDestroyers was approaching the outer beacon marker for the space port, and in
the other direction the ships that had been engaged there were sorting themselves out.

  “Very well, Captain. Which ship released the missile?” I had Captain Hobbs on a ship to ship link so that the other crews could not hear the conversation.

  “Mine, Colonel.” Her voice was unruffled.

  “Better have maintenance check the weapons computer system then. Nearly had a nasty accident, didn’t we? Don’t want another.” Without waiting for her response, I opened a comms channel to the whole Defence Force. “Exercise completed, all ships return to base. Seren Leader out.”

  With rather a lot to think about, I turned my attention to coaxing the damaged Speedbird into a safe approach vector. Rogett had already landed his ship, and his face suddenly appeared in the commscreen. I thought again that he seemed vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place him at all.

  “I’m down first, Colonel. Does that mean that I win?”

  “I’d cancelled the exercise, Rogett. But I’d like to see you in my office when we are all landed.”

  Then one of the amber alerts on the control panel turned red and blared a warning at me until I turned it off. Although the defence screen had stopped the missile from striking the hull, the explosion had strained several of the connections in the engine pod. The main engine was functioning normally, but the manoeuvring jets had limited functionality. I would need to plot the course and fly the approach very accurately, to minimise the need to use the damaged thrusters. Several of the Defence Force ships closed in around me as I started the descent towards the space port.

  Was this a threat? An attempt to get rid of me in an ‘accident’ for which no one could be blamed? I swallowed hard, but then the demands of flying the Speedbird took up all my concentration. The navcomm flashed up the approach vectors on the forward vidscreen as a series of coloured rectangles. My task was to keep the Speedbird’s course safely within those, and already we were close to brushing the lower edge. I made a careful minute adjustment and held my breath until the result seemed satisfactory. The space port and landing pads appeared in the vidscreen and I relaxed a little, until the proximity alert started screeching. One of the ships surrounding me was very close indeed. So close that it was starting to interfere with my approach. I wanted to get the Speedbird docked, not have to go around and approach again.

 

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