They climbed so high that Conrad lost track of how many kilometers they had climbed.
“Conrad!”
He turned to see Jira clinging to a railing, her body shaking. She was near her breaking point. He turned to go to her, but she held up a hand.
“No,” she gasped. “Don’t.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“You have to,” she said, her body trembling. “No choice here. You have to warn your people. Get them to safety.”
Xee was watching from a perch up above.
“Take him,” he cawed softly. “Then come back.” It flapped its wings, then flew down to where they stood. Its wings beat in the air as it hovered over Conrad’s shoulders. “Come back for you,” it said to Jira.
She nodded, her eyes weary, her body spent.
“Go,” she said to him. “I’ll wait for you.”
Conrad hesitated only for a moment. He leaned forward and kissed her, warm lips against cold ones, before he stepped back. She startled, but her lips parted against his.
He felt ten sharp points of pain as the alien’s claws dug into his shoulders. Xee heaved him up as he grabbed hold of its scaled legs.
The last thing he saw was Jira’s face, gazing up at him.
Chapter 12
Xee dropped Conrad to the ground with a hard thump. They were nearing the exit; Conrad could see it in the distance, a bright spot of light at the end of a narrow chamber.
There was a bottleneck of people swarming into the chamber from above ground. They were humans and aliens, families and individuals, most of them carrying bags of provisions. Children were screaming around them. It was pure chaos.
Conrad summoned the last of his strength and pressed forward into the crowd, pushing when he had to, ignoring the turmoil of the terrified mob. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Xee bank gracefully and fly back into the darkness. It was going back for Jira.
He pushed on. A small lizard-like creature smashed into his legs and hissed. He didn’t bother apologizing as he pressed on. He was only a hundred feet from the exit.
He squinted. The door was closing.
With a harsh curse he dove forward, shoving people out of the way as he made for the exit. His heart thumped fast and hard in his chest.
He stumbled—caught himself. Almost.
Conrad reached for his transmitter. He pressed it. The Steadfast now knew where he and Jira were—if it hadn’t left orbit yet. He hoped against hope that it had.
“Argus,” he panted. “You there?”
There was a soft click. “Here,” the Kazhad’s reassuring voice came in. “There’s an attack,” he reported.
“I know,” he said, grimacing. “The Vehn. Argus—you need to get as far away from the attack as possible. Jira’s stuck underground here at this location, and she’s got someone with her. She’ll be safe until it’s all over.” I hope. “Hide the best you can. I’m getting to the Oro now—there’s no other shelter here for me.”
“Understood,” Argus said. “We’ll be on communications blackout until this is over.”
“Take care of my ship,” Conrad said.
“Take care of my captain,” Argus responded as the line went dead.
Conrad heard the door to the underground clang shut behind him. The alarm was softer now but still present, and he raced through the increasingly deserted upper reaches of the city towards the docks.
The public transit systems were deserted. The inhabitants of the city had fled underground, leaving only guards and soldiers.
When the shuttle deposited him at the docks, Conrad ran for the Oro Yurei. Here there were more people, merchants who refused to abandon their stock, and the occasional security ship.
A waving merchant attempted to stop him. “Hey!” he shouted after Conrad. “What do you think you’re doing, you Lords-cursed idiot? Get yourself to a shelter!”
Conrad ignored him and ran past him.
“If you fly now, you’ll be dead!” he heard the man say behind him. “The Imperials will take your ship!”
Conrad felt a surge of relief when he saw the gleaming shape of the Oro in the distance. The ship was untouched. After he ran up the gangplank it immediately closed behind him. He headed straight to the cockpit, turning on the ship’s comms. The ship automatically accessed the local public channels. For the first five minutes there was nothing but the same high-pitched alarm that he had heard underground.
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Hells.” He slapped the controls in frustration. There was still only silence.
He sat down in his chair and waited, taking swigs of nutrient water, and listening to the strident alarm sound in the holds of the Oro.
He surveyed the docks. Most of the ships were abandoned, although there were a few ships with engines firing. They were daring to go up. Maybe they were hoping to get to the safety of the portal.
Suddenly, the alarm stopped. A man’s voice spoke.
“This is Captain Lees Tarillion, of the Lusus. We are en route to Seo Cire from Seo Tyne. This is an announcement and order to all crewed ships orbiting Seo Cire and planetside. You are hereby ordered by the Imperial Navy to form a blockade between the Vehn ships and the planet. Take whatever defensive action your ships are capable of. Await our arrival. Do not let the Vehn breach the atmosphere. Any disobedience of these orders will result in summary execution.”
An audio-only comms line crackled to life a moment later. This one was local.
“Eh,” a gravelly voice growled over the comms. “Who’s there, eh? This is the Wastrel’s Hope, merchant ship, down in the docks. Anyone else here?”
A new voice joined the line. “Wastrel—this is the Ster Ammyn. Security. We’re on the ground, preparing to take off.”
Conrad joined the group. “This is the ... Blackbird.” The fake name felt strange on his tongue.
“Blackbird, what kind of ship are you?”
“Yacht,” he replied.
Someone snorted on the other side of the line. “Cannon fodder.”
“Aren’t we all,” he said, as a spate of coordinates suddenly appeared on his comms display. They originated from the Lusus, indicating where the makeshift armada was supposed to amass. “I’m new in the area, boys,” he said. “How common is this? What’re we expecting?”
“Been happening more lately,” said the Wastrel’s captain. “The Imperial patrol ship assigned to these parts does a good job, but it’s only the one ship. We just make ourselves up into a defensive grid, so there’s a few more obstacles between us and the Vehn while they come over. Cannon fodder is right.”
“Does anyone ever just ... run?” Conrad asked, thinking of the Steadfast.
“The Imperials ain’t shy about hunting down and executin’ those who don’t do their part, I’ll say that much.”
The Oro’s computers digested the coordinates. The piloting hologram lit up, and Conrad took hold of it, lifting the ship out of its dock.
“You in a hurry to get blasted into bits, Blackbird?”
“Sounds like that’s likely to happen either way. I’m an impatient man.”
The Wastrel’s captain chortled. “I like you, stranger,” he said. “And I’ll fight aside you.”
As the Oro lifted into the air, Conrad counted four other ships from the docks that rose with him. The Ster Ammyn was the best armed of the group, Conrad observed, as he quickly ran a check of the Oro’s own weapons system. Unsurprisingly they’d been augmented. The guns had double the legal charge capacity—at least by Sanctuary law—and there was even a small set of missiles hidden under its belly. They were half the size of the ones carried by a ship like the Steadfast, but Conrad simply muttered a little prayer of thanks that they were here at all.
What kind of trouble were you planning to get into, Jira?
They joined a constellation of over a hundred ships in orbit, roughly above Seo Cire’s city. It made sense, Conrad thought, to focus their defense there, where there were more lives to lose to
the Vehn’s ravenous appetites. The Cirish ships were small to midsize merchant ships, with a few security vessels thrown in. None looked like they were designed for this kind of a fight.
More voices joined the comm line. Most captains were waiting for directions from the Lusus; others were waiting to see how close the Vehn would get before launching their attack.
They could see the Vehn ships—three of them—in the distance.
“Three,” he said. “That’s not bad.”
“What in all the universes do you mean?” It was the captain of the Wastrel. “For an Imperial ship—maybe. But not for the lot of us. This is the frontier, not some core world with its own guardships. The Imperials keep even the local authorities from using any weapon that could do any damage. None of us have guns. Just shields. And in my case, a load of unrefined rocks meant for the commodities marketplace on Seo Cire.”
The reality of the situation dawned on Conrad. “Oh,” he said.
“You’re not really a pleasure yacht, are you,” said another captain, slyly. “You can tell us—what have you got, Blackbird?”
“Nothing that you haven't got,” Conrad replied.
“Chances are good that half of us won't survive the next hour. D'you really mean to meet the Lords of the Dark with a lie on your lips?”
Conrad didn't have time to invent a clever response. The Vehn were within sensor reach now, and a stream of data was entering the Oro's AI. He glanced at it, trying to absorb it all. It was coming from the Lusus. The Imperial ship was broadcasting its sensor data on all frequencies, to anyone who was listening.
They were giving the ramshackle Cirish armada everything they collected. It was something, at least, Conrad thought. The captain of the Lusus wasn’t treating them exactly like cannon fodder. They were handing them as much help as they could give.
He studied the three ships. There was no suggestion that these ships were armed with any more than the basic guns that all Vehn ships possessed. The Lusus was still out of sight; the Vehn would engage with them before the Imperial ship arrived with real firepower.
“Captains,” he said. “You’ve found me out. I’ve got some contraband onboard ... and I’ve got a few guns in reserve. If I use them, are you willing to follow my orders?”
“Better than sitting still waiting for the Vehn to kill us all,” said the Wastrel.
“The airlocks,” Conrad said. “Aim for the airlocks.”
“Aim for them with what?” Ster Ammyn said. “The cushions off my chair?”
“Eject whatever you’ve got at them. And those of you with sturdy enough hulls—if you look like you’re on a collision course with the Vehn, aim for their airlocks. Soften ‘em up for me, and I’ll fire. My weapons system isn’t going to take out all three, so choose wisely and aim well.”
“You want us to crash into those things?” someone else on the line exclaimed. “Maybe you’ve got a death wish, but I sure as hell don’t.”
“If the Vehn get through our lousy little blockade here then we’re all dead anyway.” Conrad scanned the Cirish ships. “If anyone’s got shuttles, set them on an automated course for the Vehn ships. If you’ve got anything explosive or flammable onboard, load that in the shuttles and program them for maximum velocity. Let them be the first wave.”
“That we can do,” said another voice.
As he watched a small fleet of shuttles and satellites begin to drop from the Cirish ships, Conrad assessed the Vehn. The ship in the lead would be the toughest—heavy armor, meant to push through the blockade and leave the path clear for its companions. Conrad accessed the sensor data from the Lusus, identifying the airlock locations and sent the details to the rest of the Cirish ships.
“Target that lead ship,” he said. “Hold nothing back. If that ship makes it, we’re all dead. Blow open an airlock—even one will do. Then I’ll take a swing at it with what I’ve got.”
The swarm of automated drones and shuttles raced towards the Vehn ship, their flight paths irregular. There had been no coordination amongst the captains; they would all hit the Vehn ship at random intervals, and without synchronization.
Conrad took hold of the piloting hologram. Now it was time to prepare for his role. He put the Oro behind the swarm of drones, watching carefully as the Vehn ship took notice. Its gun ports opened.
Conrad’s heart rate sped up. He angled the Oro to be as far behind the swarm as possible while still flying directly at the enemy ship. There was no telling exactly where the kamikaze shuttles would hit—and which airlock would be his best bet. He would have to move with lightning speed as soon as the shuttles and drones began to hit their targets.
“You’re a reckless one,” he heard the Wastrel’s captain say. “Lords bless you.”
The lead Vehn ship began to fire. The first volley took out a quarter of the shuttles and drones, but the rest pressed on.
“If you’ve got any control of those drones, make them go faster,” Conrad shouted into the comms. “Don’t let the Vehn take them out before they even have a chance to collide!”
The remaining kamikaze vessels swerved unevenly as half of them picked up speed. Conrad maneuvered the Oro after them, aware that the Vehn ship could see him now. He was the lone vessel of any substantial size—an obvious target.
But not an easy one.
He swerved the ship away from another volley of fire. The shuttles and drones were close now, their paths crossing, almost colliding with each other were it not for their automatic avoidance programming.
He watched as the first shuttle accelerated within a kilometer of the Vehn ship, splintering into a billion pieces of metal as it smashed into a Vehn airlock. As the fire faded Conrad saw that it was still intact—but a drone spun into it shortly after. The remaining kamikaze vessels began to impact other airlocks on the Vehn ship.
Conrad focused on the first one. It had suffered three blows, and the metal within the circle of the airlock was blackened and weak. He knew the signs of weakness well after his patrols in Sanctuary deep space.
‘Course, I had the Steadfast’s guns then ... but this’ll have to do.
He clenched his teeth and concentrated on a drone that seemed to be spiraling towards that same airlock.
Conrad turned on the automatic weapons targeting system, ordering the ship to fire its full complement of missiles at the Vehn ship. It was the largest, most dangerous ship, and it was essential to take it out. He hated to rely on the automated system, but at that moment he thanked his lucky stars that the tech even existed, and that Jira had the foresight to install it. Flying the Oro made it impossible for him to fire with accuracy at the same time.
“Hold on, girl,” he whispered to the ship. “Hold ...”
He centered his gaze on the airlock, blocking out every other noise and sensation. He forced his hands to remain loose and fluid. It would be utter disaster to seize up now.
“Hold ...”
The drone hit and exploded in a splash of fire and dust.
The Oro accelerated. Conrad throttled the ship forward, every muscle in his body tight except for his hands.
The Oro fired. Conrad was so close to the Vehn airlock that he managed only a passing glance at the burning metal in the wake of the bombardment.
Its missile bays empty, the Oro twisted away from the Vehn ship.
The ship shook and alarms sounded as Conrad pulled away—they were caught in a salvo from the damaged Vehn ship.
There was no time to assess the damage. He pushed the ship to its limits in the escape back into the relative safety of the blockade.
Yet another alarm blared.
Deflector’s gone, he observed. Shields too. Damn.
A sudden force pushed the Oro forward in the wake of its explosive power. Conrad struggled to stay in control of the ship as it quaked violently.
Without shields or deflectors, the Oro was buffeted by a wave of debris.
That much debris ...
A trickle of sweat dripped off his jaw
.
Did it work?
Chapter 13
The Oro quivered, and froze.
“We’ve got you, Blackbird.” It was the Wastrel’s captain. “We’ve got you tractored. Don’t fight me or we’ll both regret it.”
Conrad’s shoulders sagged slightly in relief—but only for a moment. He switched on the commscreen and stared at the visual feed. Only wreckage remained of the massive Vehn ship, its bulk broken into charred black pieces.
But there was no time to breathe. The two remaining ships were gaining on them—and there were no more shuttles or drones left.
“Now’s the moment,” he said to the Cirish ships. “All of you with armor or reinforced hulls—now’s the time.”
The security ship Ster Ammyn was first to react. It flew out of formation and towards the Vehn, with four other ships rocketing after it.
“What else have you got?” someone asked him. “Those missiles of yours—never seen anything like ‘em.”
Thanks, Jira and Balt.
“Just guns now,” he said. “And no deflectors or shields. But I’ll follow you, Ster Ammyn,” he said. “Wastrel—set me loose.”
“You're in bad shape, Blackbird,” the Wastrel’s captain observed. “I’ll come with you.”
Six other ships disengaged from the fleet and came alongside the Oro. It was almost a hopeless gesture; Conrad may as well have been escorted by nothing at all.
Now the battle would grow more complex. There were two Vehn ships on the horizon now, and no missiles left. All that was left to do was to ask the Cirish ships themselves to throw themselves at the Vehn airlocks—and even that was no guarantee. The Oro was the only ship with guns; even if every Cirish ship joined a suicide attack, there was no way of knowing if even that would be enough to destroy the Vehn ship.
“You can drop me, Wastrel,” Conrad said. “I don’t need your help.”
“Are you really going to take on those two ships by yourself?” came the disbelieving response.
Sanctuary's Gambit: The Darkspace Saga Book 2 Page 8