Outriders

by Ian Blackport

  “I sincerely doubt we’re dealing with Delbaeth. We have their government and military under close observation, and I can’t imagine them producing a brand new starfighter in our own backyard without us knowing or even hearing rumors. And no other independent planet has reason to be here, so far from their own home system. For God’s sake, we have lucrative trade deals with Aetheria and the Valkyries. They wouldn’t risk squandering that for this place.”

  THAT ONLY LEAVES THE CONFEDERACY AND CERTAIN CORPORATIONS AS SUSPECTS.

  “Which don’t make sense either. The Authority wouldn’t violate the peace by breaching our territory, and there aren’t enough valuable resources out here for corporations to claim. Companies conducting business in Authority space are also forbidden by law from entering independent systems without first negotiating an agreement. Aren’t they?”

  PARLIAMENTARY EXECUTIVE ORDER 103-H EXCLUDES CORPORATIONS OPERATING IN CONFEDERACY SPACE AND REGISTERED WITH THE STELLAR GOODS AND TRADE CONSORTIUM FROM MINING OR SURVEYING WORLDS IN SYSTEMS CLAIMED BY INDEPENDENT GOVERNMENTS WITHOUT EXPLICIT INVITATION.

  “Exactly. Legal mumbo-jumbo aside, it makes more sense financially for companies to start talking with us rather than dispatching some clandestine squadron to bully a helpless listening outpost. A company guilty of entering our territory uninvited could face sanctions from the Confederacy. Enough to make their shareholders and board of directors run scared.”

  YES.

  “Which means we have a frustrating mystery on our hands, Chirpy. One I really don’t have the strength or motivation to solve.”

  YOUR SEROTONIN LEVELS HAVE DECREASED, AS HAS YOUR NOREPINEPHRINE, DESPITE ONLY RECENTLY BEING ENGAGED IN COMBAT, AN EVENT PRONE TO INCREASE LEVELS OF STRESS. IS THIS WHY YOU ARE FEELING TIRED AND INDIFFERENT?

  “Leave it up to a computer to turn everything into a damned chemical response,” Clara muttered.

  WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

  “I watched my friends die, Chirpy. I promised to keep them safe, but I failed.”

  I AM SORRY ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled. “But it doesn’t change what happened.”

  WHAT HAPPENED WAS NOT YOUR FAULT.

  “I keep telling myself that, but I’m still having trouble believing it.”

  IN REVIEWING SHIP LOGS I HAVE DETERMINED YOU DID NOTHING AGAINST STARFIGHTER COMMAND REGULATIONS. YOUR CHOICES WERE SOUND FOR A PILOT ENGAGED IN COMBAT WHO CANNOT CONTROL THE VARIABLES.

  “It’s more than reports and analyses. You can’t reduce feelings and regret to an equation or find answers in a textbook. I could’ve done better and I didn’t. I could’ve come up with a safer strategy, or sacrificed myself to save the others. I could’ve predicted an ambush and warned Malcolm. But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything. I assumed the danger was acceptable and eleven men and women died as a result. Those mistakes are on me, and no data review will change that.”

  I AM SORRY YOU FEEL THIS WAY. I STILL DO NOT BELIEVE YOU ACTED IMPROPERLY.

  “Because you aren’t programed to be capable of the criticism. And even if you were, my opinion is the only one that matters on this score. I failed my friends, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

  I WILL TRY.

  “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  Words faded and the communication remained blank, leading Clara to believe Chirpy was finished with conversing. Which was odd, since ship computers were known for prattling endlessly unless engaged in a mission or specifically told to stop. Clara wiped her dripping nose and felt several fingers tremble from the dropping temperature. Finally letters flashed across her vision.

  WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?

  “Regardless of what’s happening in this system, we might have uncovered a threat to Elatha itself. We need to devote all our meager resources and creativity to being found by allies. After that I’ll present my information to Starfighter Command and let them analyze the crap out of it.”

  She paused and gazed overhead beyond the cockpit, glimpsing brown cliffs and winking stars. “Once my superiors have determined who’s responsible for killing my friends, I’ll climb into a new starfighter, hunt the bastards down and wipe them out.”

  Chapter 4

  Clattering footfalls echoed over metal floors lining the corridor and Taylor clamped moist palms on cold railings, heaving himself up a grated flight of stairs to the freighter’s bridge with shrill air raid sirens blaring through his skull.

  Taylor eyed anti-aircraft cannons around the hangar, knowing their fate if they attempted escape without authorization. “You have a clever trick nestled up your sleeve for breaking the communication blackout, Rinko?”

  “No need,” Tessa interrupted, following Taylor onto the bridge. “Delbaethi Intelligence never could conjure a way to interfere with our frequencies entirely. Their meddlesome infiltrators have probed us for weaknesses over the last couple years. Whenever we found one, we asked some pointed questions before making certain the agent disappeared. We’re ready for this.”

  She leaned over Alexis and hardwired her heavily modified UpLink to the ship’s communication terminal. “Pilot, continue preparations while I connect our systems.”

  Taylor watched Tessa’s AugIris shimmer like a radiant gem before he scrambled into his seat and fastened straps crisscrossing over his chest. All crewmembers did likewise apart from Harun, who gripped rails behind Taylor’s console for support.

  “JTX-2 cannons are online,” announced Kyla from her station. “Targeting protocols are initializing and linking to dorsal turret.”

  “Reyes, talk to me,” Taylor commanded.

  His voice echoed through the bridge from his gunnery position located halfway down the fuselage. “Hedgehog systems are live and eager to bring down any threats.”

  “I want weapons targeting all hostiles, but do not open fire unless I give the authorization. Delbaeth has its hands full with Elathan defenses and might let a civilian freighter slip past unharmed.”

  “They’ll destroy every starship in range,” Harun affirmed.

  “I won’t be the one starting a confrontation,” promised Taylor. “We aren’t defenseless, Major. If their pilots want a scrap, we’ll give them one.”

  Connor activated the final sequence and gripped his yoke in white-knuckled hands. “If you’re going to do something, now’s the time.”

  Tessa gave a lopsided smirk and brought full communications online. “This is Agent Frostbitten to the Elathan Commerce and Regulations Agency issuing emergency override Veritable for light freighter Merchant’s Kiss in Docking Bay 47. Command authorization eclipse-rogue-trident-horizon-eclipse-scepter.”

  “Acknowledged,” answered a monotone voice. “Authorization confirmed and command key accepted. Spaceport rail cannons standing down. You are cleared for launch on chosen vector.”

  Connor lifted off and angled the Solar Flare to starboard with all thrust chambers primed to fire. A blinding explosion of incandescent orange erupted through their viewport when one anti-aircraft battery detonated into charred slag. Blazing fragments of metal ejected skyward like fiery meteorites and rattled off their freighter’s hull as a Delbaethi Pulsar-class fighter-bomber swept past overhead discharging its cannons. Plasma bombarded the docking bay, tearing craters into concrete and rupturing fuel cell canisters. Ruined freighters and shuttles spewed flames and slanted when their broken hulls collapsed landing struts.

  “Get us the hell out of here!” hollered Kyla.

  Engines screamed to life and the Solar Flare blasted away from the smoldering hangar into a steep ascent. Starships locked in a deadly dogfight whirled through clouds and weaved in intricate duels high overhead. Smoking starfighters left burning trails across the sky like smudges of black paint and exploded amid a hail of torpedoes and plasma. Connor leveled their freighter and hurtled on a straight course beneath the starfighters. Anti-aircraft cannons stationed on Elatha’s surface disgorged a stream of kinetic projectiles at low-level bombers strafing ground targets.


  “Pulsar starfighter closing on our trajectory with missile systems online,” Alexis confirmed.

  “All weapons cleared to return fire,” Taylor asserted.

  A whining, rhythmic pounding crept through the ship as Reyes discharged projectiles from the Hedgehog multi-turret battery. Connor thrust the freighter into evasive maneuvers and swept across the massive city of Formorii, piloting between towers and spires climbing two kilometers high.

  Alexis craned her head over one shoulder. “Pulsar still on our tail and accelerating.”

  Glass surfaces glimmered under the sun’s intense glare as the Solar Flare rolled and pitched through narrow distances separating buildings. Maglev tracks used by elevated trains rattled past bare meters beneath the hull, shaking the control wheel held in Connor’s straining hands. An errant burst of plasma from the pursuing starfighter burst against one skyscraper and liquefied glass panels into molten globules.

  “Targeting lock acquired!”

  Kyla handled her console with a calmness known to unnerve people prone to anxiety. “Deploying heat signature countermeasures.”

  “Missile launch confirmed. Eight seconds to impact.”

  Magnesium decoy flares erupted from compartments attached to the Solar Flare’s stern and ignited to scorching temperatures, luring the missile into a premature explosion that shattered windows on the closest structures.

  “Release chaff,” Taylor commanded. “Wide field dispersal.”

  Airborne canisters detonated behind the freighter, strewing fragments of metal, fiberglass and condensed dust particles into a hazardous cloud capable of blinding pilots and shipboard sensors alike. Connor whirled their starship into a reckless roll to starboard between antenna relays crowning a telecommunications tower and dived several hundred meters into corridors flanked by glowing billboards and traffic signals.

  “Pulsar lost and no longer following our trajectory,” remarked Kyla.

  “I didn’t think most merchants carried anti-missile countermeasures,” Harun uttered. “One might believe you expect trouble.”

  Taylor glanced at the Elathan operative. “Like I said, we aren’t defenseless. Plenty of spacelanes in our civilized Confederacy aren’t patrolled or garrisoned. You spend a few weeks traveling routes infested with pirates and criminal gangs and see if you don’t install safeguards.”

  “Merely an observation, Captain. Don’t take my comment as criticism.”

  “Squadron of Delbaethi Basilisk-class interceptors at fifty-nine degrees,” Alexis declared. “Three point four kilometers away and closing.”

  “Divert ten degrees to port and bring elevation to sixteen thousand meters,” ordered Taylor. He eyed colossal warships hanging in orbit above the planet, their cataclysmic broadsides and cannon fire visible even from here. “Rinko, find me an Elathan capital ship in all the confusion up there.”

  Loose bangs danced over her forehead while she accessed public records and switched between schematics displayed on her terminals. “The Orion-class dreadnought spearheading the Elathan defensive formation. It’s the Areadbhar, flagship for Fleet Command.”

  “Chart a course straight for the Areadbhar at maximum velocity and put us in its wake. We’ll use the warship as a shield until we’re past.”

  The Solar Flare tore skyward, cleared the cityscape and passed through clouds still marred by torpedo efflux trails. Marauders and Basilisks clashed in atmospheric battles, too brutally engaged to notice a lone civilian freighter soaring higher. Capital ships reaching nearly a kilometer in length and circled by small support craft grew larger in their viewport.

  Space elevators climbed hundreds of kilometers from the surface and connected to orbiting stations, several drawing fire from Delbaethi warships. Flaming debris fell from the orbital facilities alongside bright flashes as escape pods crammed with terrified crew were jettisoned. Geosynchronous weapons platforms constructed by the Elathan government rained destruction on enemy starships while Delbaethi bombers flew through the barrage to deliver payloads against the stations.

  Tessa reached beyond Alexis and jabbed her fingertips over holographic keys. “This is Agent Frostbitten contacting Tactical Command for emergency targeting update. Please respond.”

  Her answer echoed through the bridge courtesy of a communications technician. “Tactical Command station Pinnacle standing by. State authorization.”

  “Command authorization spear-trinity-echo-catalyst-echo-alpine.”

  “Verification accepted and authorization confirmed. Awaiting instructions.”

  “Transmitting starship identity for fleetwide distribution on Friend/Foe network,” Tessa declared. “Broadcast my vessel, its location and my command key to active Combined Starfleet Commission personnel.”

  “Transponder frequency relayed to all warships in Fleet and Starfighter Command. Freighter Merchant’s Kiss listed as ally on targeting computers.”

  “Acknowledged. Frostbitten out.”

  “Handy having a direct channel to the frontline fleet,” Taylor asserted. “Maybe you do have value.”

  “Your praise is worth everything to me, smuggler,” responded Tessa in a facetious tone. “Though my job might be easier if you didn’t insist on using a false transponder.”

  “I’ll make a note of your complaint and be sure to pass it up the chain of command to someone who cares.”

  “Basilisk interceptors converging on our position,” Alexis said. “The lead starfighter will reach maximum effective weapons range in thirty seconds.”

  “Connor, get us beneath the Areadbhar on the double,” commanded Taylor.

  “Still three minutes out at highest velocity,” he replied.

  Clouds disappeared and blue sky vanished into blackness speckled with distant stars as the Solar Flare cleared Elatha’s atmosphere and reached lower orbit. Warships from gargantuan dreadnoughts down to corvettes and gunboats were locked in deadly combat, discharging plasma and ionic torpedoes in a dazzling and terrifying display of firepower. Ruined starships spouted flames from breached hulls, cracked frigates tumbled and trailed conduits still sizzling with electricity, blackened shards floated among graveyards of wreckage.

  “Basilisks in range!” shouted Alexis.

  Plasma lashed across their hull and the ship lurched to starboard, whipping Taylor’s neck and igniting stabbing pangs down his spine. Lights flickered to dimness and scarlet flares washed throughout the bridge.

  “Graphene shielding integrity on the topside starboard hull down to eighty-three percent,” Rinko stated.

  “Do you still have countermeasures?” questioned Harun.

  “Used all our decoy flares and chaff,” Taylor responded. “They’re meant for brief encounters with poorly equipped criminals. Never thought we’d be in a damned battle.”

  Piercing tones sounded and a canary light pulsed above the co-pilot’s station when the Solar Flare was seized in the midst of a missile lock.

  “Keep us out of their targeting!” hollered Kyla.

  Connor wrenched the ship into a violent pitch and hauled through a steep ascent. “Trying.”

  Goosebumps crawled over Taylor, his skin shaded pallid blue beneath frantic gunnery discharges. The Solar Flare snapped to port and rolled, blurring the vista of glinting stars while salvoes sailed past into darkness.

  “Bring us on a straight trajectory toward the Areadbhar,” ordered Tessa.

  “No chance,” their pilot hissed. “The Basilisks will tear us apart.”

  “Not when I command the sky.” She keyed directives into her connected UpLink and accessed an encrypted channel. “This is Agent Frostbitten of the Elathan Security and Intelligence Service contacting Areadbhar Gunnery Command.”

  “Areadbhar Gunnery Command acknowledging.”

  “Redirect ventral stern batteries on vector one-four-seven decimal six-eight and negative elevation fifty-nine. Locate and prepare to fire on Basilisk interceptors.”

  Sharp groans echoed through the freighter as plasma s
truck plating and chewed through hull armor. Alarms screamed for attention and the cockpit shone with throbbing lights. A grinding tremor surged beneath the floor, vibrating their chairs and shaking Taylor’s boots.

  “Reorientation complete,” said the controller. “Targets acquired.”

  “Commence barrage on my signal.”

  Azure plasma from one Basilisk burned past the Solar Flare and dissipated, though Taylor felt hairs on his neck rise as he imagined the agonizing heat coursing over his flesh.

  Alexis slumped forward in her chair as another jarring blast impacted their hull. “Tessa, they have to fire now.”

  “Topside kinetic buffers failing and starboard hull integrity at seventy-six percent,” Rinko asserted.

  Alexis used a forearm to brace herself against the console and grasped Tessa’s wrist. “Tell them to fire!”

  “Not yet,” she barked.

  “Tessa!”

  Lights flickered above their heads and a shuddering quiver struck the bridge, plunging their freighter into darkness before auxiliary systems restored power. Bulkheads groaned and the Solar Flare rolled to port until Connor regained control.

  “Open fire!” Tessa shouted.

  A pulsating torrent erupted from four stern batteries on the Areadbhar and flared beyond their freighter’s viewport, casting the bridge in brightest daylight and burning Taylor’s eyes. The bombardment, awe-inspiring and frightening in equal measure, ended in a heartbeat and left Taylor blinking hazy swirls from his vision.

  “Three Basilisks are smoking ruins,” affirmed Kyla. “I might not care for your planet or way of conducting business, but your naval gunners are damn fine at their job.”

  “I’ll relay your compliment,” Tessa replied. “They’ll feel so honored and tingly inside.”

  The Solar Flare ascended beyond a corvette that had broken in two amidships, the halves still connected by tangled cables. Crystallized particles of debris clattered off the viewport as they shot between floating fragments and approached the Areadbhar. Punishing broadsides from a Delbaethi Cormoran dreadnought hammered into the Orion-class warship’s armored hull. Cannon emplacements returned fire and savaged a frigate, ripping through the engine compartments and breaching its fuselage. Marauders swept beneath the Areadbhar and engaged Delbaethi starfighters, protecting the capital ship from nimble vessels attempting to launch torpedoes at weakened sections.