by Chris Hechtl
“Two men enter, one man leaves,” a few of the people around them rumbled.
Captain Katy looked around and nodded. “The final trial, by combat. To the death.”
“You can lose some good people that way,” Captain Layafette observed.
“Maybe. But it's tradition. If someone backs down from the dome, they are considered a coward,” the Neocat said with an indifferent shrug. She eyed the human like he was a piece of meat though, sizing him up. “We get new meat through the pits sometimes,” he said, indicating the fighting pits. They turned to look. The fight had just started. Two Neodogs went at it with tooth and claw. The crowd hooted and threw trash at them as the dogs growled and circled each other, posturing.
“Once in, only one leaves,” the cat said. “Ye don't want to let it get this far if one can help it,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Some of the people press-ganged into service fight there. Some for sport,” a male Neochimp smiled maliciously, “some to join our ranks.”
There was a series of Ars and guttural laughs at that idea.
“They get their killer instinct in there, hone it,” Captain Katy said.
Captain Layafette nodded as he watched one of the dogs go for the jugular while the other backed off only to be partially impaled by a spike in his back and rear. He yelped and tried to sidle away. His opponent crowded him in, and they grappled. The dogs were evenly matched though for upper body strength. The duo snapped at each other, trying to dig in with their feet while also trying to get a piece of their opponent. The cornered dog got the floppy ear of his opponent and savagely ripped it off. The other dog howled and broke his grip, backing off and holding a hand to the ear.
Fighting to impress the pirates and pirate lords was one way to gain attention and get out of their sorry lot in life for the slaves, Captain Layafette thought with a remote corner of his mind as he watched the mauled dog's distraction provide its opponent the opportunity it needed to get out of the corner and on the attack. He'd thought the other dog was a male, but it turned out to be a female when she lost her shorts in the grappling that followed. Showing that they were willing to kill their own proved they were interested in joining the ranks.
Fighting was the lowest form of proving you could hang, but it was also the ultimate test, to put your life on the line. Showing you had a skill that the officers wanted was another he thought. But the pirates, they were about getting on the ground so they had to fight to survive. He'd heard though that most populations paid some sort of tribute price.
“What about those who jump ship?” he asked, turning to the Neocat.
Captain Katy snorted in derision at the very idea. “None be foolish to do so. The lubbers get their mitts on one of us, and they'll make this look mild,” she said, waving a hand to the racks where some of the personnel were hung up. Some moved feebly.
“Discipline?”
“The usual. Everyone is more relaxed in port of course,” she said waving a hand just as the bitch clawed the male's eye but then the male ducked his head and bowled into her, plowing her to the ground. She snapped at his head but then he managed to get his jaws around her throat. She clawed feebly at him, trying to fend him off. But he had pit bull genes; he locked on and didn't let go. “But some get into more trouble than necessary and have to be called to heel,” she said, turning away in disappointment from the fight.
Captain Layafette nodded in understanding as he saw the male's genitals go erect and he pretended to screw the dying female to the jeers and howls of the crowd. He too turned away. “Fight didn't go your way?” he asked.
“No blast and sear it. I'm down fifty creds and now a mate,” the cat said, shocking him. She eyed him for a moment then shrugged again as the victor stood with a bloody muzzle and then wiped it with one hand paw. He raised his fists up to declare victory to the applause of the crowd.
“What have I gotten myself into,” the human muttered softly, shaking his head as the dog was let out of the dome and his vanquished foe was dragged off to the side and then dumped down a chute to who knows where.
Chapter 29
Sixteen months after leaving the Tau sector the Federation courier ship Dancer returned to the Trajin cluster's Alpha star system in a burst of energy. The little ship scanned the star system warily while her comm section downloaded the messenger buoy for any updates. Once they were certain nothing had changed, the ship darted across the star system and jumped onward, following the trail of the convoy and her messenger buoys like a stream of bread crumbs.
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Captain S'th didn't react as Belfast jumped into the Tau-42Z15 star system. It had a G1 star and a partially terraformed planet but little more was going for it.
She had no problems with the natives; according to Lieutenant Parker, they might be unusual and adapted to the Ice Age planet but not hostile in the slightest. It was the planet itself that the captain hated; as a Naga, she hated the cold. Her species became torpid when the temperature dropped too low, and they could die in frigid weather since they had scales and lacked fur or other means to insulate themselves.
“Are we stopping as planned, ma'am?” Lieutenant Nobe, her navigator asked carefully.
“It is tempting,” the captain said, flexing her mandibles. She knew the crew could use some downtime, but with the damage to her ship and the lack of spares on board, she had little to nothing to trade with. They could use the fuel and provisions but getting them in and out of the gravity well wouldn't be profitable. “No,” she finally said. “We need to save our fuel and material and trade with one of the space colonies along our route back to the cluster,” she finally said.
The Neochimp nodded silently. Personally, she wouldn't have minded meeting the odd balls on the planet. There was no formal government—just “herds” and groups of migrants that migrated along the edge of the glaciers and tried to eke out a living on the planet. Its stark beauty was something to behold, but for her it was the group she'd met.
She had heard that there were other Neo species, but she'd thought that Neoelephants had been a brief and failed experiment up until she'd heard about the group on Epsilon Triangula. Then she'd actually met another “herd” quite unexpectedly on the small planet they were about to pass. And they were not the usual elephants either. There were several shaggy Neomammoths of all things, plus two Neosaber tooth cats, the elf, Gashg, and others with them. What was the alpha Neomammoth's name? Manfred? Manny? She shook her head in wonder.
According to some of the history she'd picked up last time, the Neowoolly mammoth was ancient, predating the Xeno war. He'd had anti-geriatric treatments just before arriving on the planet. He'd formed a herd with a family but an injury had put him in stasis. When he'd woken, he'd found his family long gone to the harsh planet. He'd wandered the planet alone as a despondent time-lost loner until he'd picked up an unlikely friend in the Gashg Sid and then Neosaber tooth cat Diego. From there they'd formed a “herd” that had taken on legendary status on the planet.
“Ship detected,” a rating said, breaking the Neochimp out of her woolgathering. “She's just breaking orbit from the planet. We have her on neutrinos,” the rating added.
“Getting the information now. Working on a heading,” Lieutenant Nobe said as CIC fed her the data. “It looks like a course … not quite perpendicular to our own but close. She's not headed to our jump point ….” She frowned as she extended the line of the ship's path, then factored in any possible changes in course needed. CIC was still painting in asteroids and bodies in the star system, but they'd already had a map from their previous visit. They just needed to make certain it was up-to-date.
“It looks like a least-time course to an unknown point in space two AU to our starboard side. Call it fifty degrees to our starboard.”
“Can you give me a specific spot?” the captain asked.
“I believe if she's following the ion trails we detected here the last time she'll be able to jump somewhere near
the heliopause … so here,” the navigator said, putting an icon up on the main plot.
“Generate an intercept vector, Nav,” the captain ordered.
“Captain, we've already …,” the Naga waved off the XO's protest with a truehand.
“I know,” the captain said. “For the moment, I want to know if we can take them on.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lieutenant Nobe said as the numbers came in. She overlaid a course on the plot with a series of intersection points. “It depends on what you want to do and what fuel you want to burn, ma'am.”
“We don't know they are hostile,” Lieutenant Parker pointed out. The Naga turned to her XO. “Sorry, ma'am, but we don't.”
“Sensors, do we know what we're dealing with?” the captain asked, addressing the comment indirectly.
“She's small. We don't have mass readings at this distance. I can tell you she has two fusion reactors in her based on the neutrinos we're picking up. Both have different signatures,” the CIC rating reported.
“CIC is feeding me the information now,” Lieutenant Dickenson said as she strode onto the bridge. “Sorry I'm late,” she said with a nod to the captain and XO.
“Not a problem,” the XO said as she indicated the tactical station. “You've been paying attention though,” she observed.
“Yes, ma’am,” Thelma said as she took her seat that Loise vacated. “Thanks for keeping it warm,” she said in a brief aside to her JTO. Loise merely smiled briefly. “CIC, do you have optical on her yet?”
“We had a black object in orbit of the planet. The sensors aren't in line due to the distance however,” the CIC rating said.
“Bring up the shiny object,” the tactical officer ordered. After a moment, a window appeared on the plot with an image of the slowly turning planet. A shiny dot could be seen orbiting it. “This is out-of-date; the ship is already underway based on our neutrino detection. We can't lay a whisker on the messenger buoy to see what it saw … if it is still there. But I'm betting …,” Thelma used her stylus at her station to bring up the feed to her own station, then select the shape. She zoomed in as best she could, but it was still pixilated.
“Aengus, run that,” she ordered.
“Running shape through our 3D ship class database will take time,” the A.I. said, but a window opened on the plot with a series of 3D wireframes quickly scanning as they rotated and were compared to the outline of the black ship.
“Eliminate anything with one fusion drive,” Thelma ordered. Start with destroyers and work up from there,” she ordered.
“We have a hit,” the A.I. said as a wireframe came up. It matched the basic shape. It was also familiar to Captain S'th. “An Antelope class fast-attack destroyer,” the A.I. said, scrolling the data on the ship's class. “Eight one percent accuracy rating,” he stated.
“Close enough. We don't have many in our inventory, and we know none were sent here,” Thelma said, turning to the captain. “I believe we have a Tango on our hands, ma'am.”
“Aengus, run the ship through our copy of the Horathian war book. They can't have many ships of that class here,” the captain ordered.
“Four known Horathian Antelope class ships in this sector,” Aengus said, listing four ships. “That is not an up-to-date database however,” the A.I. warned.
“I'm less worried about a name than confirmation that they do have them here,” the captain said, reaching out with a truehand to her own repeater screen of the main plot. “We need to get more information.”
“Captain, engaging after taking damage …,” the XO grimaced. “We're also low on missiles,” she warned.
“True.”
“It's also too late to hide; by now the energy pulse should have alerted everyone in the star system that we just arrived.”
“Also true,” the captain said. She reached out and tapped a key. “Chief V'x'n, how likely will it be for you to be able to make us look like a freighter?” she asked.
“With our bow damage highly unlikely, ma'am. We have limited stealth ability. I suppose I can step down our reactor and drive to a civilian ship's output though. But if anyone gets eyes on us, even a Mark I one eyeball and we're screwed,” the Veraxin replied.
“Captain, if this is an Antelope and we look like prey, they'll come for us. They've got all of their weapons but a few facing forward. If we're going to take them on, the best way to take them out is on the flank or stern,” Thelma stated, pointing to the slowly rotating image of the wire-frame.
“I'm aware of that. I wanted options,” the captain replied.
“Ma'am, CIC here. We've gotten more images of the Tango ship. It is definitely an Antelope class. We don't have her on passive or active sensors yet other than our video scope.”
“Understood,” the captain said, looking up with her rear pair of eyes. “Aengus, rig for silent running. Nav, generate a course to them. Save fuel but I want to come up on their flank—possibly crossing their T. A. stern run would be nice but don't cut it too close to their suspected jump point.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” Lieutenant Nobe said as a warning went out through the intercom to rig the ship for stealth mode.
“We're really doing this?” Loise texted Thelma.
Thelma glanced at her as she made certain the active sensors were locked down. Red placards would be put out to remind people not to use the active sensors or comm systems. “Looks that way,” she texted back.
“We'll raise our colors when they can't avoid action,” the captain said. “This is our redeeming moment, people; let's make it count.”
“Course set. Two days to engagement zone,” Lieutenant Nobe reported after a moment.
“Engage course helm. Aengus, activate the smart paint. I want us to be black.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” the A.I. replied. “The bow is bare metal. It will shine if exposed to light, ma'am,” he warned.
“Can't be helped. Helm, roll the ship so the exposed section is not facing the enemy,” the captain ordered.
“Aye aye, roll ship,” the helm rating replied.
“And now we sit back and wait,” Thelma murmured, looking up to the main plot.
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Captain Dastardly Dan, a male Neopit bull was on the horns of a dilemma. His ship the Antelope class destroyer Monticello had just picked up tribute from the planet in the form of fish, meat, and fuel. He'd been sent out to gather the material to replenish Virgin's Holes supplies. That was one dilemma; he hated fish. He hated the smell of fish, and it was all through his ship thanks to the damn barrel someone had split open in the loading. If they'd salted the fish, it wouldn't have been as bad as the oil. Deck 3 was still a bit slippery in a few places despite the scrubbing he'd inflicted on the unfortunate crewman who'd broken the barrel while rolling the damn thing down the passageway.
But that bothered him slightly less than his current problem, one that bothered him like a sore tooth. For two days, he'd known another ship had jumped into the star system at the Tau-49436 jump point. The blinding energy pulse had screamed here I am; it was one of the problems of hyperspace travel for both predator and prey.
“Still no response,” the XO said. “I don't like this,” he muttered, tugging on the largest earring in his left ear.
The captain glanced over to the NeoGreat Dane and then away. Farlee was right. Everyone on board was speculating about the newcomer, but no one had a clue what they were up against.
“I don't like this. I don't like being stalked. We're supposed to be the hunters,” the XO said, clearly aggrieved by the turn about.
The NeoDoberman tactical officer looked up from his station and sniffed. “It could be Captain Gutt. He's a bastard. He might come after his own if he thinks he can get away with it,” he said.
“He's crazy. The Admiral would have his guts for garters,” Farlee said, turning to Duke.
“Only if he finds out. His crew wouldn't say anything,” Duke retorted.
“True. I'm hoping it's someone who just
wants to say boo,” Captain Dastardly Dan drawled, tugging on the spiked collar his mate had gotten him the last time they'd been together. He scratched at an itch under it, pressing one of the spikes up to touch his strong jaw. “Comm, send out our IFF again. Let them know we know they are here.”
“Aye, Captain. Broadcasting IFF again,” the rating manning the communications station replied dutifully. “IFF sent.”
“Could it have been a civilian, sir? Hiding?” Farlee asked. It wasn't the first time any of them had put the question forward in the past two days.
“Could be,” the captain replied slowly. “They aren't sitting on the jump point. We didn't see them headed in to the inner system and they are running dark. That doesn't favor a civilian in my book,” the tactical officer replied.
“A warship means it's one of ours. The question is, how crazy is Captain Gutt?” Duke asked.
“If it is even him,” the captain muttered, looking away. Based on what Duke had generated from the unknown's location and their own course and speed, they'd just entered the window for where an ambush might happen. “CIC, keep your eyes peeled. If they goose us before you tell me, I'll be tearing some ears and asses off,” the captain growled menacingly.
“Aye aye,” a voice replied with a gulp. The captain shared a brief smile with his XO, then went back to playing with his collar.
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“Tango is broadcasting her IFF again. She has confirmed she is the Horathian ship Monticello,” the comm rating reported. “Still no sign from the transmission that she knows where we are.”
“We'll introduce ourselves in our own way soon enough,” Captain S'th hissed softly.
They'd received the first IFF, which had been an anticlimactic confirmation of what they'd suspected. It had also put a name with a blinking dot on the plot and given them a minor bit of intelligence about the enemy. She had been confirmed an Antelope class based on their copy of the Horathian war book. There had been a bit more in there, but all of the crew information was most likely out-of-date.