by Sam Coulson
Loid wasn’t a simple scavenger. He had run with pirates, and he had run from pirates. I gathered that he did his fair share of smuggling using scan-shielded compartments for hauling illegal goods, but he also had official (looking) trade authorizations for dozens of systems.
By the time we reached the second flux point, Ju-lin’s the initial distaste and distrust in her tone began to subside as her respect for Loid grew. Void soul or not, she had always wanted a life in the stars. There was a lot she could learn from Loid, and Ju-lin wasn’t too proud to admit it.
We fluxed again, this time, when we came through we were facing a star that burned deep blue.
“A blue giant,” Ju-lin said with more than a little awe in her voice. “I’ve never seen one that bright before.”
The blue giant was certainly bright. Even through Tons-o-Fun’s dimmed viewport I had to squint to look at it. But yet, somehow, it didn’t seem to cast off as much light as the yellow sun had. The distant worlds floating in orbit were sheathed in shadow, nearly indistinguishable from the black.
“Get used to it, we’re going to be here awhile,” Loid answered from the pilot’s seat. “My best guess is that the Celestrials came from through the Furies, which means we need to pass through Magaera, a contested system that borders Protectorate and Celestrial territories. Unfortunately, to reach the Magaera flux point we’ve got to cross half the system.”
I saw Ju-lin stiffen at the mention of traveling into Celestrial territory.
“Not to mention—oh hello there,” Loid broke off. “A hydrogen gas giant, close too. Just a few hours away. Looks like we’ll have a detour.”
“We need fuel?” I asked. Ju-lin had explained earlier that most long-range ships like the Tons-o-Fun use hydrogen based fuel, and that refilling the hydrogen compression tanks was a matter of swinging into the upper atmosphere and activating the ship’s fuel scoops.
“Loid’s rule seven of long distance space travel: you always need fuel,” he replied. “Which is followed closely by rule eight: never pay for what you can get for free. There are no known settlements in this system and no ships on the scopes. The only thing I see anywhere near the gas giant are two lifeless moons.”
“So it’s safe?” Ju-lin asked.
“It looks safe,” Loid answered. “All that means is that, well, it looks safe. We’ll see. Either way, we only have enough fuel for a few fluxes, and we don’t want to pay to fill up in Celestrial space if we can help it. That would eat up all my profits. Eli, read those coordinates.”
I repeated the series of numbers off my console, and Loid set our course toward the looming gas giant.
“Alright Twiggy,” Loid tossed a glance over his shoulder at Ju-lin. “You say you can fly anything?”
“I have hundreds of hours flying interplanetary shuttles and used to spend six hours a day in flight simulations before we moved out to the colony,” Ju-lin answered. “Dad used to let me fly in his Raven between escort runs, and I flew that Carrack.”
“I don’t know if I’d call what you did in that Carrack flying as much as falling,” Loid didn’t look back, but I saw his lips curl into a smile.
“If you didn’t notice, I brought that ship from a flat spin in low orbit and-”
“Relax,” Loid spin in his chair and cut her off. “I’m just ribbing at you, you really need to lighten up a bit. You ever flown an upper atmo fuel scoop?”
“I’ve done it a few dozen times in the simulator.”
“So, that’s a no,” Loid answered. “Well there is a first time for everything. Hop up here in the big chair kid, let’s go over it.”
I sat and watched for the next two hours as we made our approach to the gas giant, listening as Loid talked Ju-lin through the procedures for operating the hydrogen scoops. Though she already knew the basics, such as the angle of entry and the critical velocity, Loid pointed out that she didn’t have a feel for flying outside of the simulator. There would always be factors that you don’t account for, such as shifts in planetary winds and swift changes in atmospheric density.
“The simulators tend to be forgiving,” Loid added. “They’re designed to teach you how to think and operate in open space. But when you’re sliding along the top of a gas supergiant, the science of navigation becomes secondary to the art of flying. If you make a mistake you could ignite the compression tanks, burn up your maneuvering thrusters, or, in the worst case, get caught in a the gravity well of a giant whirling planet that’s atmosphere is nothing but a toxic cocktail of explosive gas. Not ideal.”
Ju-lin listened impatiently but intently. By the time he finished going through it all, the planet was looming so close that it filled nearly our entire field of vision. Loid patted Ju-lin on the shoulder and strapped himself into the jump seat next to me.
“She’s all yours Twiggy,” Loid said as he adjusted his secondary command console. “Ease her in, and do exactly as I say.”
Ju-lin took the controls and eased the stick up, Tons jerked upward swiftly. Further than Ju-lin had meant to, she pushed back and overcorrected the other way. After fifteen seconds of tug of war with momentum she had the Scotsman evened out and on course.
“She’s sensitive,” Loid said. “You’ve gotta use a steady hand with her. Nice and easy. Some ships are brutes that you have to dominate, like the Carrack. Flying them is a battle of wills. But Tons-o-Fun, she’s a more elegant lady. A soft word and a caress goes a lot further than a stern word and a cuff.”
“I’m beginning to think you spend too much time out here alone.” Ju-lin said, rolling her eyes. As she became more confident at the controls, Ju-lin’s attitude was starting to come back.
“Probably true,” I saw Loid smile as he gently patted his armrest. “Probably true.”
We flattened out, flying above the horizon of the atmosphere of the gas giant. As we drew closer I saw that the atmosphere was churning with activity. Clouds of gases twisted and collided chaotically. I could see the risks of dipping down too far.
“Now ease her up, we need to slide into the upper atmo and then hold her there. You should get just low enough so that the stars are faint through the clouds above. If you lose sight of the stars, you’re in trouble.”
“Right,” she said. “So I just ignore the altimeter?”
“No, you don’t ignore anything,” he answered. “But remember that there are a million natural and unnatural things that can throw off your sensors. Don’t trust them. Your eyes are always your best instrument.”
We continued to ease down, gliding on the top of and endless sea of clouds with the stars bright above us. A dark grey moon was rising on our port side. It was beautiful and surreal.
“Steady her out now and drop speed,” Loid said. “You’re doing great, nice and steady.”
We continued to descend into the blue-green haze. The brightness of the stars began to fade, and then we leveled out.
“Are we ready for the scoops?”
“You tell me,” Loid answered. “You’re flying this bus. Rule two: the decisions rest with the pilot. If you think you have us at the right place at the right speed, and can hold us here for 20-30 seconds to activate the scoops, call it.”
A bead of sweat trickled down Ju-lin’s forehead.
“Trust your gut Twiggy,” Loid said.
“Engage scoops,” she said.
I turned to see Loid was sitting back with his hands folded behind his head.
“That’s you Eli,” he nodded at my control console. “I’m just along for the ride.”
Rattled, I turned and looked at the console. Loid had showed us through the computer system earlier, but I hadn’t expected this to be a test. I flipped through the menu looking for the hydrogen scoop deployment system controls.
“Almost found it,” I said, now sweat was trickling down my brow.
“I can’t hold us here forever,” Ju-lin’s voice was tense.
“Got it, engaging,” I initiated the cycle.
There were a series o
f clicks and the sounds of a whirling motor behind us as the hydrogen intakes opened and began the process of capturing and compressing hydrogen from the gas giant’s atmosphere into the ship’s compression tanks.
“Twenty seconds,” I called as the computer counted down.
“Fifteen seconds,” I said. “Tank reading at 75 percent capacity.”
“Roger,” Ju-lin said, holding steady as she peered up through the canopy at the dimly lit stars above.
“Five,” I continued to count. “Four—three—two—one—full. Completing cycle, vents closing. And—clear.”
“Pulling up,” Ju-lin eased the stick up and Tons-o-Fun began to regain altitude.
“You know,” Loid was casual, he kicked his feet up onto his consol. “You two aren’t too bad at this. I mean, I wouldn’t take all on a smuggling run out in Odin just yet, but still—”
Tons-o-Fun’s proximity alarms started to go off just as two blasts struck our port side.
“What in the hell was that?” Loid flipped his feet onto the ground and pulled his console into his hand. “Two marks coming in fast. What the hell, the scopes were clean when we went down there. Twiggy, bank starboard and get us up out of this soup, now.”
Ju-lin pulled the controls sharply and we spiraled upward away from the planet, the exhaust from two small fighters flew past us on either side in a flash.
“Watch out, I have a third mark, bearing—ah hell,” Loid called. “They must have been hiding behind the moon.”
“I see it,” Ju-lin called back. “What is it?”
I looked up. Directly in front of us between us and the planet’s moon was a hulking dark shadow. Two smaller shapes had broken away from it, fighters. They had three symmetrical wings and were coming in fast.
“Big, well-armed. Corvette class, a Starchaser by the look of it. The signal beacon says it's designated the Allegro IV. Allegro, that may not be a good thing. Those two fighters, Drakes by the look, are hers,” Loid’s voice was flat and serious. “Pirates. They sit on the blind side of that moon and wait for poor saps to fly in to refuel.”
The ship rocked as the fighters made their second pass, peppering Tons-o-Fun’s underbelly.
"Allegro?" I asked. "Do you know the ship?"
“That’s the Allegro IV. I knew a guy who piloted a ship called the Allegro III.”
“Should we ask what happened to the Allegro III?”
“Last time I saw it, it was on fire in the wake with a very bad antimatter leak. Though it was just a transport, not a damned Starchaser. If it's who I think it is, we're in trouble,” Loid sighed. “Looks like lesson three comes early: how to survive when you’re outmaneuvered and outgunned.”
Chapter 16.
After the long wait, sitting and sweating in the dark, the rush of battle came quickly. The signal was sent, and we unleashed fire. Our first barrage was devastating. Two of the enemy fighters dissolved into dust. But the others reacted quickly. I tracked them with my turret, but their movements were unpredictable.
I tracked the lead fighter, small, silver, and feeble in the sky. I squeezed the trigger and my turret sent a volley of explosive rounds, but the rounds hit nothing. The fighter had shifted abruptly, closing on one of our Slires.
I tracked him again, he pitched, I followed, I pulled the trigger again, but my own ship banked abruptly to the right. My shots went wide. I watched helplessly as fire streaked from the little silver fighter, one of our Slires erupted in flames. I felt excuses erupt within me. The targeting computer had been misaligned, my pilot should not have banked, but I forcefully silenced the voices in my head. A brave and worthy warrior, dead because of my ineptitude.
I swiveled my turret, tracking the fighter again, this time I would not miss.
“Do you want this back?” Ju-lin’s knuckles were white on the stick as she sent us into another diving roll.
“Nope,” Loid said as he continued to rapidly work his console. “Looks like you’re doing just fine to me.”
“The guns are offline. I can keep these Drakes off of us for a while, but the more I maneuver the closer that Starchaser gets. If I had some guns it may be useful.”
“Guns? Naw,” Loid answered. “Their plan is to send in the gnats to keep us busy, then sweep in with the mother ship to fire a few well-placed bursts and disable your power systems. Then it’s a simple matter of boarding and looting. Pretty standard really.”
“I suppose there is a reason why you don’t sound concerned?” she asked. “Do you have a plan?”
“Well, this might work,” he said, still focused on his console.
“What?” I asked. “Did you get the guns online?”
“Guns?” he asked. “Oh no. No point in that. The gun bays are still flooded with hydrogen, firing them up is not the best idea. Even if we did, those Drakes are well armored, that’s why pirates love them. We may be able to disable one of them before the Starchaser gets us, but there’s no beating them toe-to-toe. Better to put all of that power to engines and shields to buy us time.”
“Buy us time for what?” Ju-lin asked.
Tons-o-Fun shook as another shot struck home.
“For this,” he said as he pushed his console back. “Eli, route all power to engines and shields to give Twiggy everything we got. Turn off non-essential systems, including artificial gravity. Turn it off, and route all power to engine systems.”
“Artificial gravity only uses about an eighth of a percent of the power output,” Ju-lin retorted. “What good will that do?”
“Oh, you never know,” Loid turned to me and winked. “Eli, turn off gravity, and follow me. But mind your gravity. Twiggy, grab your headset and stay on coms, you too Eli.”
He grabbed a wireless headset, unhooked his harness and disappeared through the hatch toward the back of the ship.
“Where are you going?!” Ju-lin howled as she pulled up hard.
“Oh, right,” Loid popped his head back in the cabin. “They’ll hail you in about twenty seconds and demand you surrender. When they ask what your cargo is, claim you’re empty. They won’t believe it. The secondary cargo hold is shielded, so unless they are complete dusters they will figure we have something valuable onboard and lay off the big guns, hoping for our surrender. Tell them you are the captain and bought the ship on scrap or something if they ask, and whatever you do, do not mention my name.”
“What do I tell them when they ask for our surrender?” Ju-lin asked.
“Just be your charming self and do what comes naturally,” he nodded at me. “Get the gravity off and get your ass back here.”
I put on my headset, disabled the artificial gravity, routed all power to engines, and unhooked myself from my seat.
“Incoming wave from the Starchaser,” Ju-lin said as she slipped her headset on and punched a few buttons on her console.
As soon as I unfastened my harness I began to rise up out of my seat. My stomach churned. Though I had thought turning off the gravity would be a simple matter, the biological fact of it was incredibly disorienting. I grabbed my chair to steady myself and started pulling myself back toward the hatch.
“Yes, this is the pilot of the Scotsman Tons-o-Fun,” she answered into her headset. “Yes, it’s my ship. No, I won’t power down, why the hell would I do that?”
With a push I floated back and drifted between the jump seats and into the hatch.
“Look, really boys, I’m just passing through here,” I heard Ju-lin taunt back. “Your pilots? Look, buddy, I don’t know where you picked up these putzes, but you’re lucky they have those Drake’s flying forwards. I’m more concerned about one accidently running into me than I am their rail guns.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, Ju-lin was being herself alright. I hoped Loid knew what he was doing.
Loid was in the secondary cargo deck unpacking one of the Draugari warheads when I got there. Even without standard gravity I was still standing upright in the passage. Loid had abandoned the conventional notions of up and d
own and was standing on the wall.
“Can we launch that?” I asked.
“Nope,” he answered as he unlatched the casing. “They require a sizable rocket, which we don’t have. This is just a payload.”
The ship shook from another hit. The sudden jolt sent the ship shifting around me as I floated, my head slammed against the doorway. As I shook it off I saw why Loid had chosen to stand on the wall: his feet were tucked into the hand railings, offering him some stability.
“Volatile too,” he said as he pulled the warhead from its casing, it was a mess of wiring with black-coated steel making a ball a little bigger than my fist.
“How powerful?” I asked.
“Powerful enough that if we make a wrong move we will have the pleasure of knowing that at least one of those Drakes that are blasting at us will probably be vaporized along with us.”
“Right,” I said, feeling more than a little unsettled.
“Toss me the spanner, there in the case mounted by the door,” he nodded, never taking his eyes off of the warhead that was now floating gently in front of him.
I recovered the spanner and tossed it gently toward him. Loid caught it easily and started to unscrew a control panel.
“What else can I do?”
“Do you know how an electromagnet works?”
“No, not really,” I answered.
“Oh,” the ship’s lights flickered as we took another hit. “Well, the lesson can wait. See those boots on the wall? The white ones, those are electromagnetic clamps for when you have to get suited up and do mid-space repairs. Not fun stuff, I don’t like to do it.”
“You’re not going out there?” I asked, stunned.
He grinned and raised his eyebrow.
I felt the blood leave my face, “You don’t expect me to go out there?”