The Orphaned Worlds

by Michael Cobley

  ‘You’re not Gideon,’ said Becker, frowning as he leaned a little closer. ‘And you seem a little old, even for the Stormlions. Identify yourself.’

  ‘I am Major Theodor Karlsson of the Darien Volunteer Forces, currently on secondment to Captain Gideon’s task force, and also his acting second-in-command. And you are?’

  Theo ignored the barely concealed looks of incredulity coming from both bridge officers. Well if you’re going to play the rank game, boys, play it with bells, whistles and brass neck, by damn!

  Becker’s piercing gaze seemed to bore through the screen at him. Then a faint smile of contempt came over the man’s features.

  ‘Darien, eh? Gideon didn’t waste time finding new allies, such as they are. I am Marshal Matthias Becker, high commander of the Shield of Tygra, namely twelve commanderies of elite, battle-hardened troops. You know, I can sympathise with your colony’s predicament, Major, but you have to realise that you cannot defeat the Brolturan Compact, or the Hegemony. Your people would be as well to sue for peace and request repatriation to Earth or one of the Integrated Colonies.’

  Theo offered a polite smile. ‘Would you give up your world so readily, Marshal?’

  ‘I admit, I would not.’

  ‘Exactly. The patriot is the easiest person to convince, and the hardest to defeat.’

  ‘A well-framed conceit, Major, but my patience is running thin. I want to speak with Gideon.’

  ‘So sorry, marshal, but he is otherwise engaged.’

  Becker laughed. ‘So Nathaniel and his men managed to board your ship – excellent. Then it is only a matter of time before you and whoever survives are back in my custody …’

  ‘You’re such an optimist, Marshal,’ came another’s voice. ‘Especially when you place your trust in flawed servants like Nathaniel Horne, who is now scuttling away in his shuttle, having left most of his men dead on the decks of my ship.’

  Captain Gideon stood in the open hatchway to the bridge, his armour marred with scorch marks. Theo grinned and got up from the command chair, which Gideon settled into.

  ‘That’s the great thing about him, Gideon – he always comes back.’ Becker smiled, then shrugged. ‘So we are back to the basics – my ship can outrun and outgun you and I have a hold full of prisoners whose lives hang in the balance. Surrender and they and some of your men may live. Refuse and I will kill them and all of you.’

  Gideon was silent for a moment.

  ‘I’ll do what you want,’ he said at last. ‘But first I want to speak with one of the Pyreans before I decide anything.’

  Theo regarded him, saw him exchange a look with Malachi, and knew he was playing for time.

  ‘A defeated cur makes demands? Don’t test me.’ ‘What do you have to lose?’ said Gideon. ‘Set it against what you stand to gain.’

  The Marshal seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. ‘I shall extend to you a shred of magnanimity, Gideon, just this once.’ He turned and gave orders to an unseen subordinate, waited for a moment, then frowned at some unheard response. ‘Then fix it – how can four personal comms cease functioning? …’ Someone spoke to him and he stiffened. ‘Get any crew members down there now! … Empty? Sound the alert! Find them!’

  Becker then swung back to the visual link, his face contorted in fury. ‘I don’t know how you managed this, you anti-Tygran vermin, but this game is at an end. Surrender or I will open fire!’

  ‘Berg, intercept course, full thrust!’ said Gideon. ‘Malachi, shields! Ready all weapons.’

  ‘You’re such a fool, Gideon, a fool to rely on senile dotards and a backwater majors.’ Becker leaned in close. ‘This will be a sweet justice …’

  ‘You will refrain from the use of your weaponry. Conflict is not permitted. We have sought you out, Marshal Matthias Becker, and we shall have from you a humble and fitting repentance!’

  A second visage appeared in Theo’s holodisplay, a slender, spindly-armed creature with a conoid head narrowing to a thin neck. It seemed to be completely swathed in dark brown wrappings while odd metallic meshes covered the eyes and mouth.

  ‘You are far from your homeworld, Roug,’ said Becker. ‘And you have chosen to meddle in matters that are none of your concern …’

  ‘My name is Reen of the High Index,’ said the being that Becker had called a Roug. ‘Your actions are central to our purpose, specifically those relating to the abduction of twenty-five Humans from their culture-autonomous habitat while residing under the protection of the High Index of the Roug …’

  ‘Your jurisdiction is worthless in this region,’ Becker said loudly, trying to break in, but the Roug was inexorable.

  ‘… and your violation of Roug system territory without announcement of your presence or intention constitutes an Act of Malfeasance in addition to the aforementioned abduction. We have already retrieved those individuals from your vessel by means of an advanced technologic. All that remains is a satisfactory demonstration of contrition on your part.’

  Theo exchanged a look with Malachi who whispered, ‘He’ll never apologise, never in a million years.’

  Becker’s features, however, had settled into a kind of intense composure. Watching him, Theo recognised the unwavering steadiness of someone who had already decided on a course of action.

  ‘The leaders of the indentured Human Sept faction, liberated from your domination, were being held aboard my ship under protective custody,’ Becker said smoothly. ‘I regarded them as guests of the Black Sun commandery and thus of the Tygran Bund. If they have decided to place themselves under your authority again, then I must simply acknowledge that as their decision. All I require is proof that they are safely aboard your craft, rather than elsewhere.’

  ‘Now you’re playing for time, Becker,’ said Gideon. ‘Get it over with. Give the newcomer their apology.’

  ‘I am not obliged under the protocols of response to an Act of Malfeasance to provide such verification but in the interest of clarity I shall do so …’

  The frame pulled back from the Roug and panned round to show an amazingly wide and spacious ship’s bridge, Theo guessed, with a few console-like installations spread out in a curve, each one attended by a dark, spindly Roug. Off to the side were a group of low chairs and padded benches where some two dozen Humans sat or stood, most engaged in conversation with a pair of the Roug. Theo stared, amazed and relieved to see visual proof of the descendants of the colonists from the Tenebrosa. In fact, including himself, there were representatives from all three of those old colonyships, which should count for something …

  And in the holodisplay Becker gave a cold smile and said, ‘I’ve seen all I need to see,’ and his image vanished.

  Suddenly Theo’s display broke up in zigzags of static, along with several others on the bridge.

  ‘External comms are down,’ said Malachi. ‘Internal comms very patchy, random dropouts. We still have environmental …’

  ‘Is it the same as before?’ said Gideon. ‘Are they trying to shut us down?’

  Malachi shook his head. ‘It’s different, sir – these cutouts seem more symptomatic of something else …’

  Theo ground his teeth. ‘Damn, sorry, this is my fault.’ ‘We don’t know if that external channel is the reason, Major,’ said Gideon. ‘Let us wait and see …’

  ‘Main thrusters have just ignited,’ said Berg at the helm. ‘New course laid in too – I can’t get into the system, it’s out of my hands.’

  ‘Weapons coming online, targeting as well,’ said Malachi. ‘Let me guess,’ Gideon said. ‘The target is that Roug ship.’ ‘Very cunning, these Black Sun dogs,’ Malachi said. ‘It’s a worm, built it up in the comm data buffer, very slowly, never noticed, a work of twisted genius …’

  Theo was staring at the main viewscreen where Marshal Becker’s ship had wheeled round to angle that beaklike prow towards the Roug vessel, that huge grey head, which was maintaining its position. Gideon’s Starfire, however, was now moving towards it in a strai
ght, undeviating line.

  ‘Malachi,’ said Gideon. ‘If the weapons are beyond our control, what about trying to get through to the Roug, just to explain that it only looks as if we’re firing on them?’

  ‘I’ll try to clear that channel, sir,’ Malachi said, not lifting his gaze from his console. ‘As soon as I’ve countered that worm with my own antiworm …’

  ‘A small craft has just launched from Becker’s ship,’ said the helmsman, Berg. ‘It’s heading in the opposite direction … wait, now it’s coming round, trajectory curving towards us, sir … Becker’s ship is targeting it with their aft projectors … shuttle’s evading … missed …’

  The bridge lights flickered. Theo gripped the auxiliary console he stood at as he felt a wave of weightless vertigo, then a moment of heaviness that made his legs bend a little, followed by a swift return to normalcy.

  ‘Enemy worm disrupted, sir,’ said Malachi. ‘There was a brief interruption in deck-grav regulation, and the worm is still operational, but we are no longer focused on the Roug ship.’ Then he looked at his holodisplay. ‘System is retargeting, sir, right on that small shuttle, the one that flew off from the flagship …’

  ‘Starfire coming around on a new heading,’ said Berg. ‘Intercept course with the shuttle.’

  ‘Beam battery opening fire,’ said Malachi.

  A volley of energy bolts sprang towards the oncoming stubby-winged shuttle. Its shields rippled, flared and were gone, its main thrusters dead and leaving a trail of grey vapour as momentum carried it tumbling along on the same course as before.

  ‘Incoming communication,’ said Malachi.

  A grainy visual popped into Gideon’s display, a head-and-shoulders image of, surprisingly, a Roug. Theo heard an angry voice in the background cursing – ‘Jelking Humans!’ – before the Roug spoke.

  ‘I am Assessor Ajegil – please cease your attack! This vessel is unarmed and poses no threat …’

  ‘My apologies, Assessor,’ Gideon said. ‘Unfortunately, I am not in control of my ship’s weaponry, but I intend to ensure your safety.’ He turned to Malachi. ‘Hit the powerdown again – would a respin clear the data incursion?’

  Malachi shrugged. ‘It might, but not if it’s lodged a backup in the initialiser code.’

  ‘Do it anyway.’

  A moment later, just as the weapon system was about to launch a missile at the coasting shuttle, the Starfire’s systems went dead. A hushed darkness fell on the bridge, peppered with the glowing pinpoints of standbys. Theo sighed and sat on the step next to the recess where Gideon sat in his command couch. A few emergency lamps came on as Gideon fumbled in a pull-out drawer and produced a couple of drink ration tubes, handing one to Theo.

  ‘Any way we can see what’s happening out there, Malachi?’ Gideon said.

  ‘I’ll have limited viewscreen functionality shortly, sir.’

  ‘And what options for a respin do we have?’

  Berg gave a wintry smile. ‘Limited. A respin on the bypassed initialiser would risk loading the incursion worm again; respinning with the original one lays us open to Becker and his access codes.’

  Gideon looked thoughtful. ‘If we time it right and wait until Becker’s ship is fully engaged in combat, then respin on the original initialiser, we could get away, make the jump to hyperspace. Yes, that’s what we’ll do. Malachi, how’s that viewscreen … ah, yes, very good.’

  The stars of deep space blinked out and were replaced by an enhanced overlay of the imminent clash. Becker’s flagship, the Chaxothal, was hurtling towards the Roug ship, that grotesque beast-head hanging motionless in the blackness. It had not moved from its original position, other than turning to face its oncoming adversary.

  ‘Becker was right about the intruder vessel, sir,’ Malachi said. ‘When our systems were up, long-range scans revealed no conventional weapons or shield signatures.’

  At about 800 kiloms, the Tygran ship was the first to commence hostilities, small flocks of missiles launching in waves as beam projectors opened up. Some were super-coherent lasers, and almost invisible, while others directed dense pulses of energised particles. From what the viewscreen showed, with enhanced closeups, the beams seemed to tear into the face of the Roug ship, cutting through its grey exterior which shattered and burst into an expanding haze of debris and pulverised fragments. Then the missiles arrived and Theo saw curved, shell-like pieces flying out of the pale turbid cloud.

  Moments stretched by as the Tygrans pounded the Roug with not the slightest retaliation or response.

  But that Roug sounded so confident, Theo thought. Surely you don’t make promises that your fists can’t keep.

  Then the Roug ship began to move.

  With that great, blank-eyed and now battle-cratered visage still facing its opponent, the Roug vessel sideslipped into a flightpath curving in towards the Tygran’s port side. Becker’s vessel continued firing as it manoeuvred to present itself prow-forward – in response, the Roug ship performed an impossible turn then hurtled forward along a course that brought it to within a hundred metres. Even as the Tygran tried to turn, the Roug ship’s huge jaws gaped and a spear-straight column of dazzling energy stabbed forth.

  From the Tygran ship’s upper aft section, two wings curved out, up and forward, their widening tips carrying a multiplicity of beam batteries and missile launch bays. It was the starboard one that bore the brunt of the Roug’s first assault, a coruscating column of power which brushed aside the force shielding. Shredding brilliance ate into the hull plating – with the viewscreen’s magnification Theo and the rest could see metal pit and flake off or glow red then white before melting and sloughing away. It took mere seconds to reduce the starboard weapons wing to a charred, twisted stump.

  Despite the Tygran’s attempt to withdraw, the Roug vessel kept pace with it, and cut the port wing down to a deformed remnant. Next were the thruster-tubes, blasted into useless wreckage, then the hyperspace nodes, then the remaining weapon batteries. By now Becker’s ship was a battered, powerless hulk adrift in space but the Roug did not stop there. With pencil-thin beams it proceeded to scar and burn the hull, even as it seized it with force grapples and towed it back towards Base Wolf.

  ‘Well, gentlemen,’ said Gideon. ‘I think we can assume that it’s safe to respin the Starfire’s systems, eh?’

  In the hours that followed, Theo couldn’t stop thinking about the Roug’s wholesale demolition of the Tygran ship. It must have been humiliating for Becker, he thought, and thoroughly deserved. Now, he and Gideon were aboard the Roug ship – called the Vyrk – and actually standing on that broad, roomy bridge. They had been personally greeted by the Vyrk’s commander, Mandator Reen, and were now waiting to meet representatives of the ‘Human Sept of V’Hrant’.

  One entire wall of the Vyrk’s bridge was an immense viewport from which they could look out at the vicinity of the Tygran asteroid base. The Starfire hung off to upper port, with fixer mobiles hovering around it, while some way out to starboard the wrecked, wretched-looking Tygran vessel was being towed back to Base Wolf by automatic drones. It seemed that Mandator Reen had only permitted this retrieval after inflicting upon Becker and his crew an extensive detailed remonstrance (excerpts of which were circulating among the troops and crew of the Starfire).

  ‘With Becker and his men alive,’ Theo said, ‘I imagine that the news of this humiliation will reach the ears of all Tygrans, yes?’

  ‘It’s inevitable,’ Gideon said sombrely, his eyes fixed on the slow-moving hulk. ‘I’m not sure what consequences will follow, however. Becker’s scope of action is determined by Hegemony interests – he wouldn’t have seized the Human Sept leaders unless it was what Hegemony planners wanted, so it is unlikely that he’ll make independent retaliatory moves against the Roug.’ He glanced at Theo. ‘But the Hegemony might, if they felt that the Roug presented a threat to their interests and plan.’

  He broke off at the sound of approaching footsteps. Three were heading their way a
cross the bridge’s shiny deck, a Human of Asiatic cast, a dark-hued, spindly Roug, and a short bow-legged being which to Theo looked uncannily like an orang-utan. Except that, unlike those he’d seen in those books of Earth natural history he had read, this one wore odd, corrugated leggings and several layers of upper garments. These were the occupants of the shuttle that had escaped Becker’s ship.

  The Roug spoke first.

  ‘Our meeting is tinged with irony, although I am glad to be here …’

  ‘Too jelking polite, that’s your problem,’ said the shortest of the three. ‘Maybe you should thank them for not blowing us to pieces …’

  The Asiatic Human smiled brightly. ‘Our friend Yash’s viewpoint only sounds scathing and cynical – really, he is the most amiable and supportive of travelling companions …’

  ‘Well, jelk you, Human!’

  ‘I am remiss with introductions,’ said the Roug. ‘I am Assessor Ajegil; this Human is Kao Chih, gravity-tug pilot of the formerly indentured Human Sept of V’Hrant; and this is Yash of the Voth species, whose cloud-harvester I am informed burned up in the atmosphere of Darien, seemingly an untimely demise.’

  ‘You’ve been to Darien?’ said Theo. ‘Oh, sorry, I am Major Theodor Karlsson, Darien Volunteer Forces, retired.’

  Kao Chih’s eyes widened. ‘You are Gregory’s uncle!’ He laughed and the two men shook hands.

  ‘Indeed, that I am,’ said Theo, grinning. ‘So you’ve been on Darien, too. What’s my nephew been getting up to?’

  ‘I was there several days ago,’ said Kao Chih. ‘Greg is very busy, many responsibilities. He is in charge of the resistance in the mountains …’

  ‘In charge?’ Theo said, stunned. ‘How, and when … you know, we should sit down and talk later, eh? Tell each other some amazing stories …’

  ‘There will be no time for exchanges,’ said the Roug Ajegil. ‘The Vyrk’s commander wishes to return to V’Hrant with great dispatch. I persuaded him to allow this meeting so that we may ascertain the intentions of your three colonies as this crisis develops. First, Major Karlsson, please complete the introductions.’