Star Warrior

by Isaac Hooke

  “You don’t seem too surprised,” Tane said.

  “No,” Grizz said. “You missed the scene in the cockpit. Your Volur just spilled her guts. She admitted the dwellers are hunting you, and Nebb had a temper tantrum. Demanded ten times his fee. She told him it wasn’t going to happen, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was quite funny. If I lacked control over my virtual limbic system, I would have probably laughed in his face.”

  Tane hurried from his quarters and made his way to the cockpit. When he reached a breach seal, Grizz didn’t open it.

  “Let me pass!” Tane said.

  “I’m sorry,” Grizz said. “The ship is currently operating under condition ZEBRA. This ensures the greatest degree of subdivision and air-tight integrity in case of a hull breach. A measure to prevent explosive decompression, you see.”

  “Then why did you tell me to leave my quarters?” Tane said.

  “I didn’t,” Grizz said. “I only told you that you might not wish to go to sleep as of yet.”

  “Damn it!” Tane said. “Are we under attack?”

  “Not yet,” Grizz replied.

  “Then open up!” Tane said. When the AI didn’t answer, he added: “Don’t make me sic the Volur on you.”

  “I’ll ask the Big Boss,” Grizz finally said. A moment later: “You have permission. Opening current seal. But be quick. I’m going to slam it shut behind you.”

  The hatch slid aside and Tane leaped through. True to his word, Grizz slammed it closed. Tane barely made it without getting crushed.

  “What the hell!” Tane said. “Damn it, AI. Aliens are in the system and I have to worry more about the AI on my own ship killing me?”

  “Sorry, I was a bit overeager on that one,” Grizz admitted.

  “When I first arrived you wouldn’t open the hatches for me either,” Tane said, hurrying onward. “We weren’t even under condition ZEBRA then. Why do I get the feeling you’re playing with me sometimes? Harold had a cruelty streak in him didn’t he?”

  “He wasn’t the most… virtuous of smugglers,” Grizz said.

  For the next two hatches, the AI gave him more clearance, but still slammed the seals a bit hard.

  Tane finally reached the cockpit. The front bulkhead displayed a starfield as viewed from the ship’s nose camera.

  “What’s going on?” he said when he arrived.

  Positron was seated beside Nebb. There was no sign of Jed and Lyra. A quick glance at the overhead map told Tane their IDs were in the jump compartment. Sinive was there, too.

  “Your Volur bitch led me into a dweller trap, is what,” Nebb said.

  “What are you talking about?” Tane said.

  “You could have told me damn aliens were hunting you,” Nebb said. “I would’ve never agreed to take you on as passengers.”

  “Well then you can understand why we didn’t tell you,” Tane said.

  Nebb glared at him, then he sighed, looking away. “Sinive finished her jump a few minutes ago. Everything seemed quiet at first in the system. But then a few minutes later these bastards emerge from behind the moon of a nearby gas giant.”

  The starfield overlaid onto the front bulkhead zoomed in, revealing three dark, pincer-shaped vessels blocking out the stars. Tane was reminded of a bird-of-prey’s claws. A fourth vessel, this one shaped like the hooked bill of a similar bird, followed close behind. Tane tried to ID them with his chip, but got blanks on all four.

  “Lyra is waiting for the chamber to reset, and then she’s going to attempt the final jump to Talendir,” Nebb said. “Hang tight, kid. This is going to be over soon. One way or another.”

  “Let me guess, you charged Lyra for the use of the chamber again,” Tane said.

  “Damn straight,” Nebb said. “After what she pulled?”

  Tane studied the display. “I assume you’re giving the aliens a wide berth in preparation for the jump?”

  “You’re getting good at this,” Nebb told him. “You should write a book. At this rate, you’ll make captain before twelve years old.”

  “Appreciate the sarcasm,” Tane said. “Can we outrun them?”

  “The Red Grizzly is fast compared to most ships in the human fleet,” Nebb said. “But unfortunately, these ships aren’t human. And they have a slightly higher speed than my Grizz, according to telemetry data. So no. Ain’t going to outrun these suckers.”

  “Are we in range of their weapons?” Tane said.

  “So many questions,” Nebb said.

  “If you don’t want me to ask questions, then give me access to your tactical display,” Tane said.

  “Ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Then I have to ask questions,” Tane said.

  “I could have Positron kick you out of the cockpit,” Nebb said.

  “I’d be happy to get rid of this excrement, boss,” Positron said.

  Tane sighed.

  After a moment Nebb glanced at him. “Yes, we’re in weapons range. But just barely. And I want to keep it that way.”

  “Okay, thanks. Look, it’s not my fault Lyra didn’t tell you about the aliens.”

  “I know, kid.” Nebb sighed, and suddenly became more forthcoming. “Their lasers can’t penetrate our shields at this range. But it’s not their lasers we have to worry about. It’s their Essence throwers.”

  “I didn’t know the aliens had the equivalent of Essence throwers...” Tane said.

  “They sure do,” Nebb said. “See that ship lagging slightly behind the others? Shaped like a long, hooked beak? That ship has a twin to every Essence thrower a typical TSN warship has.”

  “You talk like you’ve faced these ships before...” Tane asked. “During the war maybe?”

  “Hell no,” Nebb said. “I was drafted, yes, but relegated to HQ duty for most of the war. Never saw any action. Don’t regret it.”

  “Then how do you know so much about these ships?” Tane asked.

  Nebb looked at him, and gave him a conspiratorial grin. “Purchased a military grade ship ID package a while back from one of my black market friends. When I ran the thermals of these ships, I got positive IDs on all four.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that data with me?” Tane asked.

  “Depends,” Nebb said. “If you’ve got ten thousand credits to spare.”

  “Guess not.” Tane studied the four ships. “I didn’t know Chrysalium came in such dark shades.” The planet-side transport gates made of Chrysalium were all a bright silver. The hull of the Red Grizzly was also a bright, silver gray, as were the exteriors of all Chrysalium-based vessels Tane had ever seen on the Galnet.

  “Oh, that’s not Chrysalium,” Nebb said. “But its opposite: the dark element the aliens use to enhance their powers.”

  “Dark element?”

  “Questions questions questions,” Nebb said. “Look, I don’t know the specifics, kid. All I know is, they Siphon a different kind of energy from their home universe, and it ain’t the same Essence our jump specialists or Volur use. As such, the dwellers employ a different element to enhance it.”

  “Lyra would probably know more...” Tane said.

  “Sure,” Nebb said. “But good luck getting a solid answer out of that one. You saw how readily she lied to me.”

  “Well, she didn’t exactly lie,” Tane said, a bit surprised that he was defending the Volur. “Just omitted a few things.”

  “Which is the same thing as lying.” Nebb was quiet a moment. His eyes were defocused, as if he were running some quick calculations with the help of his chip. “Their lance equivalent isn’t my big worry. At this range, any damage to our hull will be negligible. Though I suppose if they concentrate on the same spot for a few minutes, they could definitely cause a breach.”

  “Rotate the ship to prevent that,” Tane said. “Give them a different side to hit.”

  “Gee thanks,” Nebb said. “I never thought of that. Like I said, you should write a guide on starship combat. You know what? I think I’m
going to have Positron escort you out of my cockpit after all...”

  “I’ll be quiet,” Tane said.

  Nebb gave him a suspicious look, then his eyes defocused once more.

  The silence drew out...

  “They haven’t fired,” Nebb announced. “That’s interesting. They want you alive, I’m thinking. Still, their lances are relatively useless at this range. I’m more worried about the other Essence throwers the ships have. They’re all based on TSN designs, so I’ve seen them before. Let’s just say, things are going to get a little messy.”

  Resolving not to ask another question, and to make good on his promise to stay quiet, Tane waited for Nebb to explain. The moments ticked past, and when still Nebb didn’t say anything, Tane decided to search his chip for answers. He actually had some small information available regarding Essence throwers, since the knowledge was open source, at least on a high level.

  Just as he started to read the relevant entry, Nebb spoke.

  “The thrower I’m worried about is a disruption weapon,” Nebb told him. “Preprogrammed with the exact counter needed to dispel our distortion tunnels. This could devolve into a battle of attrition. Now we get to see just how good our Volur really is.”

  Tane continued reading the information on his chip. Like jump chambers, throwers were essentially specialized machines that accepted the raw Essence drawn from the Chrysalium by the operator, and created the necessary designs, since it was basically impossible for a human being to control the huge amounts of Essence that could be Siphoned through a starship.

  According to the entry, the designs were like giant three dimensional fractals that skyrocketed outward from the ship in all directions at once: Sinive’s description of a branching tree wasn’t all that off the mark. Without the throwers and the built-in AI to guide them, the massive Essence creations would be impossible to aim.

  Most TSN warships were equipped with a lance, a disruptor, and a deflector. The disruptor was pointed at a ship that was attempting to flee via Essence jump; when fired it unraveled the target’s distortion tunnel while the jump specialist was busy trying to link to the destination system. A deflector meanwhile was used to repel incoming Essence creations, including lances and disruptors.

  And from what Nebb had told him, the hook ship had the equivalent of a lance and a disruptor, at the very least. If the Red Grizzly had a deflector and enough rested Essence operators, there was a chance they might have been able to repel the disruptor before it ruined their tunnel. But the Rapier class ship had only a lance. According to the entry, it was still possible for the jump specialist to overcome the unraveling effects of a disruptor, but there were very few operators with the necessary skill. Having Lyra, a full blown Volur, controlling the jump chamber gave them a good chance, Tane thought.

  But then again, hadn’t she said something about distortion tunnel creation not being one of her best skills?

  “Jump chamber reset imminent,” Grizz said.

  “About time,” Nebb said. “Sometimes half an hour to reset feels like an eternity. I’ll have to look into upgrading that sometime.”

  Tane felt the deck rumble underneath him. The familiar humming filled the air, growing in volume, and he knew a jump was coming. He felt a wave of nausea, and was forced to rest a hand on the chair back in front of him.

  The screen flashed and the hum cut off before reaching its apex.

  The nausea receded.

  “What happened?” Tane said. But he already knew. The constellations remained the same. And the four enemy warships still pursued.

  “Bastards unraveled our tunnel,” Nebb said.

  “Other merchant vessels in the system are starting to jump away,” Grizz said.

  “I guess four alien thermal signatures attacking a Rapier class starship would have that effect,” Nebb said. “Still, they’re all spineless bastards. You’d think they’d help a ship in need.”

  “The local TSN military base is dispatching two frigates,” Grizz said.

  “I see them,” Nebb said. “They’re too far away to make a difference, unfortunately.”

  “Can’t vessels jump in the same system?” Tane asked. “The frigates could close the distance fast that way...”

  “Sure,” Nebb said. “But interplanetary jumps are extremely dangerous. You’re just as likely to jump inside a planet as your target. It’s not recommended, to say the least. If I was one of those military captains, I most certainly wouldn’t risk the lives of my crew just to get a little closer to some aliens who would probably blow my ship to smithereens anyway. I do expect one of them to jump out of the system to call reinforcements. But don’t get your hopes up: the cavalry won’t arrive in time to save us.” His eyes defocused. “Lyra, are you able to try another jump?”

  “Yes,” she returned over the ceiling speaker. She sounded breathless.

  “Hmm, you don’t sound too good,” Nebb said.

  “How close will they be when the chamber resets in half an hour?” Lyra asked.

  Tane felt a sudden sense of alarm. He had assumed the jump could be attempted immediately. But it seemed after a disrupted jump, the chamber had to reset all over again.

  “Lyra my girl,” Nebb said. “They’ll be within a fifty thousand klicks by the time the jump chamber is ready again. So, very close.”

  “Don’t call me your girl,” Lyra said. “And fifty thousand klicks is well beyond grappling range.”

  “Sure,” Nebb said. “But close enough to easily disable our engines. I guess I’ll have to turn the aft section away after we’ve achieved maximum acceleration. Then we’ll just drift our cozy way until you try to jump us again. And if you don’t succeed, we’re screwed.”

  The speaker clicked and Tane realized Lyra had disconnected.

  “Between you and me,” Nebb said. “I don’t think she has it in her to make another jump attempt. Two jumps separated by eight hours drain an Essenceworker enough. Two separated by thirty minutes? It might just kill her.”

  “But she’s going to try anyway isn’t she?” Tane said.

  “She seems determined to, yes,” Nebb said. “It’s too bad. I bet she has a nice pussy.”

  “I heard that,” Lyra said over the comm. So she hadn’t disconnected after all.

  Nebb reddened slightly. “Grizz, damn you.”

  “Ah, I sometimes miss being human,” Grizz said. “You are an endless source of amusement.”

  “Now isn’t the time for games!” Nebb said.

  “Yes, of course,” the ship’s AI said. “My apologies.”

  “I’m going down to the jump chamber,” Tane told the smuggler.

  “Fine,” Nebb said. “But you go, you stay there. I’m not opening up the breach seals between the cockpit and the jump compartment again. We’ll probably be taking fire soon.”

  “Whatever you say.” Tane thought Nebb was just saying that as an excuse to keep Tane out of the cockpit.

  The breach seals in the cramped passageways opened as Tane reached them, and he arrived at the jump compartment shortly. The room was only a little bigger than the cockpit. In his full power armor, Jed stood near the entrance as if guarding. Beside him, sitting on the deck with her back propped against the bulkhead, was Sinive, clearly exhausted. Her head sat in a small groove that formed a sort of support in the bulkhead, and her eyes were closed. She seemed extremely pale.

  Sinive occupied the middle of a small aisle that led to a hatch, currently open. Inside an even tinier chamber, Lyra was strapped into a chair that resided at an angle of ninety-degrees to the deck. She had her eyes closed, and her chest slowly rose and fell as if she slept. Her face seemed even sallower than the last time Tane had seen her, and the circles under her eyes appeared even darker. Though marred, she was still beautiful.

  “Hello Tane,” Lyra said without opening her eyes. Probably saw his indicator on her overhead map.

  “Anything I can do to help?” Tane said. “Grab you a water from the wardroom?”

 
She turned her head toward him, keeping it firmly pressed against the headrest, and smiled weakly. “No. Water won’t help me now.” She looked away, swallowed. “I fought the unraveling, I did. I cut off the flow of Essence, like it says to do in the manual, and unleashed the building torrent of energy into the chamber focusing array a moment later. But the disruptor didn’t let up, and the AI couldn’t rebuild the Branches in time.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Grizz intoned. “I think only one or two Volur have ever out-Siphoned a disruption throw. And maybe ten fully trained jump specialists. We’re talking in the entire history of the jump drive.”

  “I didn’t say it was my fault,” Lyra said. “I was more implying that it was your fault, for not rebuilding the Branches in time.”

  “Oh,” Grizz said. “Well that doesn’t make sense. AIs are never at fault.”

  “Especially Rapier class Harolds?” Lyra said.

  “Exactly,” Grizz told her.

  “Is it true that you could kill yourself if you try to jump again?” Tane asked Lyra.

  She shook her head. “That rogue has no idea what he’s talking about.”

  “But Sinive also told me specialists have atomized themselves inside jump chambers before…” Tane said.

  Sinive rubbed her temples. “He’s right. You can’t attempt another jump, not in your state.”

  “I am a Volur,” Lyra said proudly. “I must try. It is my duty. And I will not atomize myself.” But her voice faltered as she spoke those last words, as if even she didn’t believe the lie.

  “What happens if we don’t jump?” Tane said.

  “We can’t let them capture you,” Lyra said. “At all costs. Do you understand me? All costs.”

  Her eyes drifted to the Bander. Tane looked at Jed, and as the man fingered his pistol, Tane suddenly understood what “all costs” meant. If it came to it, and their ship was boarded…

  “You’re going to kill me?” Tane said.

  “Not just you,” Lyra said. “All of us. Believe me, death is better than what the dwellers would do to us.”

  He understood now why Lyra didn’t want his parents along. She didn’t want his mom and dad trying to protect him should it come to this. Not that they could do much to stop her. Maybe Lyra just didn’t want his parents to have to watch him die. And then die themselves.