Fool's Gambit (Confederation Reborn Book 5)

by Bernard Schaffer

  "Who?" Dolon said, looking uncomfortable.

  "The Swarm. Waves and waves of them. Yuruks. Humans. Felidaen, Korgon, races I didn't even recognize. They dropped out of the sky, falling on our troops in piles, crushing us with their own bodies. The ones who lived got up and kept coming, dragging themselves no matter how badly they'd been injured." He paused, keeping his finger pressed against the doorjamb. "I didn't kill any of them. The Ovan had done that long before."

  Dolon lowered his head slightly, staring at the table, unsure of what to say. Knox filled both of their glasses once more and then slid the open bottle toward Vorsin and said, "I'd be glad to share a drink with anyone who stood up to the Swarm. What do you say?"

  Vorsin eyed the bottle, sighed heavily, and snatched it up with one hand, throwing it against his lips and taking a long pull. He collapsed in the seat beside Dolon and said, "I'd ask about you, but all I'd hear would be lies." He nodded across the table and said, "What of the human?"

  Knox laughed and said, "Yeah. What can you tell me about myself?"

  "You're a wanted man," Dolon said softly.

  "Aren't we all?" Knox said, trying to play it off.

  "23rd Expeditionary. In the front line at Q'Ryl and the Ridge of Elam. Plenty of Swarm scalps. Then a dishonorable discharge for reasons that, despite my best efforts, remain unclear. Rattled around the outer systems for a while, moving contraband, a gun for hire. A total of nine months in prison across four systems. Implicated in the Kulo Uprising, but never conclusively proven. Suspected of at least two murders as well as a string of lesser offenses." Dolon leaned back. "Did I miss anything?"

  "Nothing comes to mind," Knox said.

  Dolon's eyes glittered nastily as he said, "Unless, of course, you count a rather significant debt to Broken Moon. They've already taken a contract out on you, by the way."

  Knox finished the rest of his drink and grimaced. "Yeah, well, we've all got skeletons."

  "Sounds more like a cemetery to me," Vorsin said with a sharp laugh.

  Knox smiled, despite himself. He pointed at Dolon and said, "All right, so what's your story?"

  "Me? I'm just a pilot."

  "Now that is, what we call back home, complete bullshit. How did you get this ship?"

  The muscles in Vorsin's neck flexed as he leaned forward, watching Dolon intently.

  Dolon shrugged and said, "Axalis arranged it for me. I have no idea how she got the acquisition clearances, and I don't really care. She asked me for a list of what ships I could fly, and this was one of them."

  Vorsin smacked the table with his hand in disbelief, about to argue, when a flat beeping noise erupted from the comm. All three of their heads turned toward the red alarm panel on the wall, which started to blink.

  Dolon leaped out of his chair, knocking over his glass and spilling a slick of dark liquid onto the table, and he ran through the door and down the hall, heading for the bridge. Knox and Vorsin jumped to their feet and chased after him.

  "What is it?" Knox called out.

  Dolon dove into the captain's chair and pulled up the sensor display, scanning it with wide eyes. "There," he said, pointing at an amber triangle in the upper left of the display that pulsed as though it were angry with them.

  They all watched it moving toward them, coming in hot. An unidentified vessel.

  "Who are they?" asked Knox. "What the hell do they want with us?"

  "Scanning them now," said Dolon. He looked in confusion at his screen, "No codes. No ident of any kind. I can't even get vector coordinates."

  "That's not good."

  "This doesn't make any sense. I've never seen pirates stray this far from the DMZ."

  "How close are they?"

  "Close enough."

  Vorsin walked over to the science station and peered down, his voice metallic as he said, "We're being scanned." He turned toward Dolon and snarled, "How did they pick us up?"

  "I was transmitting dummy codes," said Dolon.

  "What in Gak's name were you doing transmitting anything?" said Vorsin.

  "We'd look more suspicious if we didn't transmit. The codes make us look like an independent trader. Small fry, not worth bothering with."

  The Yuruk muttered something under his breath and stalked over to the manual weapons station at the forward observation panel. "Where are they?"

  "Still a long way outside visual range. They'll have to get pretty close before they realize we're a Confederation corvette. With these codes we shouldn't be worth investigating."

  "All the same, we should be ready," said Knox, and he sat down at the battle management console, "Is there a defensive sequence on this computer?"

  "Should be."

  Knox opened the battle management display and accessed the combat protocols. A series of colored icons flooded the screen, and he selected one marked Evade-Acquire-Counter.

  "This is ten years old at least," he said, squinting in disgust at the outdated sequence appearing on the display.

  "It'll work," said Dolon.

  "It better," said Vorsin, "And will you turn off that gakking alarm?"

  Dolon did as he was asked, and as the alarm fell silent a kind of stillness descended upon the bridge. The three of them remained in their positions, watching the displays or the frozen field of stars outside, and they waited for a response from a vessel that they could neither see nor hear. The only movement was the intermittent crimson pulse of the alarm light, which blinked on and off almost as though to confirm that time continued to pass.

  Then a series of lights flickered into life on the sensor display and a new warning alarm sounded, high-pitched and urgent.

  "They're targeting us," said Dolon, "Six seconds."

  "On it," said Knox, and he initiated the defensive sequence on the display. Somewhere behind them the drive began to hum, and the telltale vibration shivered through the ship.

  "Three seconds. Strap yourselves in."

  The drive was growling now, and they could feel the vibration through the soles of their feet.

  "They're firing—now."

  As the words left Dolon's mouth the ship lurched upwards and to the side, and a blue rod of light slashed through the space where, a second before, the Fool's Gambit had been.

  "Countering," said Knox.

  As he spoke the ship shuddered, and through the side observation panel Knox and Vorsin watched a bolt of blue light shoot out from the Fool's Gambit's flank and disappear into space. Dolon bent over the sensor display, peering at the triangle on the screen. It was now red. "It's a miss," he said. "We got lucky."

  "Give me the weapons, Gorohai," demanded Vorsin.

  "They're preparing to fire again."

  "Second sequence ready," Knox called out.

  "Give me the guns, you fool," shouted Vorsin. "We cannot outrun them forever."

  "Three seconds," said Dolon.

  "Got it," said Knox.

  Again the drive hummed and the tremor ran through the ship, and again the ship evaded the attack and returned a counter that sliced past its target.

  "They're closing on our position," said Knox. "Next one's going to hit us."

  "These maneuver sequences are too old," said Dolon, "They must have newer protocols."

  "Switch weapons to manual," Vorsin shouted, "Or by Gak I will kill you myself."

  Dolon took a deep breath and pressed a button on the console. "All right," he said, "They're all yours."

  Vorsin yanked up the targeting display and settled in, gripping the aiming control in his club-like hand and wrenching it left and right until the pulsing red triangle slid to rest at the center of the targeting reticle.

  "They're preparing to fire again," said Dolon.

  "Let them try," said the Yuruk, as he crushed the trigger in his grip.

  A series of thumping sounds erupted beneath them, shaking the bridge with each blast. Knox watched a volley of blue shards of light blast out and disappear into space.

  "They're evading fire," said Dolon.


  "They cannot dance forever," said Vorsin, firing again and again. The bridge pulsated with every shot.

  "Three seconds," said Dolon.

  "Come on, you bastards," said Vorsin. Blue bolts of light slalomed out from the flank of the Fool's Gambit and lanced towards the distant ship.

  "OK," said Knox, initiating the ship's only remaining defensive sequence. "Cross your fingers, boys."

  The darkness of space sizzled with blue light, striking them just beneath the bridge. Knox shielded his face from the flash and was nearly flung from his seat as the bridge swung sideways. Alarms blared as the ship struggled to right itself, engines whining and strained.

  The three passengers slumped back into their seats as the ship recalibrated and began to pick up speed, trying to get away from the attacking vessel. Knox grabbed the console in front of him and tried to catch his breath, seeing nothing but pale stars slipping past the observation panel. "Is everyone all right?" he called out.

  "Good enough," Dolon said. "What systems did we lose?"

  "They've taken out the guns," said Vorsin, squeezing the weapons trigger over and over with no result.

  "Any other damage?" asked Dolon.

  "The hull's intact," Knox said, pulling up the diagnostic readouts. "Looks like electronics in the fore and lateral boosters are burnt out. We can go forwards, but we can't steer or stop."

  "Are they preparing to fire again?"

  "No," Vorsin whispered, looking up through the panel. "They're approaching."

  "What?" Dolon said.

  "They never intended to kill us," Vorsin said. "They wanted to cripple us."

  "I thought you said there were no pirates this far from the DMZ," Knox said.

  "It must be the cargo," Dolon said. "Someone must have tipped them off about whatever it is we're carrying."

  "They're most likely slavers," said Vorsin. He reached down and unbuckled himself from his seat and walked towards the door. Dolon leaped to his feet and darted to the doorway, blocking the Yuruk's exit. He stopped, glaring down at the smaller being and said, "Move. Or I will move you."

  "They want what we're carrying, and they'll kill us to get it," Dolon said. He looked at once both terrified and furious. "You're the only one who knows what the cargo is. What do they want with it?"

  "Now is not the time," said Vorsin. The muscles in his shoulders bunched and trembled beneath the coarse material of his fatigues.

  "He's right, Dolon," said Knox. "It doesn't matter what it is. They'll kill us even if we hand it over to them."

  Dolon looked from the Yuruk's cruel masked face to Knox and back, his chest heaving. For a moment it appeared that Vorsin would explode and snap the slender Gorohai right there where he stood, but then Dolon sagged and stepped aside.

  Vorsin moved toward the door, then stopped and looked back at them. "Ready yourselves, little men," he said, "They will be here sooner than you think."

  Knox ran to his cabin and grabbed the spare power cells from his rucksack and slipped them into his brace strap. He tore open the sack's concealed compartment and pulled out his semi-automatic sub machine gun. It was a compact weapon and easy to conceal, but packed a decent punch and had gotten him through some tough spots. He slung the weapon over his shoulder, keeping it pinned to his side as he ran back out of the room and darted down the hall. By the time he reached the bridge, Dolon had grabbed an older model assault rifle and managed to assemble a small assortment of disorientation charges. Knox was about to make a sarcastic comment about the gun being too rusty to fire, but paused when he saw the Gorohai hunched over the sensor display, his dark face looking disturbingly pale.

  "How far are they?" asked Knox.

  "Five minutes, at most," said Dolon, without looking up.

  Clanking footsteps announced Vorsin's arrival on the bridge. He carried a heavy artillery rifle in his hands, and another rifle prodded up from between his shoulders. Two long, black, cruel-looking blades were fastened to his belt, their points nearly dragging on the floor. "The bridge is the strongest position on the ship," Vorsin announced. "This is where we establish our defensive position. Bring the desk from the C-Cabin and as much furniture as you can find. We will construct barricades in the passageway."

  "Who put you in charge?" said Knox.

  "We have five minutes. If you do not help me to construct our defensive position then I swear that after I have killed these pirate scum, I will tear out both of your throats."

  Both Knox and Dolon watched him leave, looking at one another in disbelief, but another beep sounded from the ship's scanner, showing the enemy vessel closing on them. The two of them took off running after the Yuruk.

  The captain's desk was made of metal two inches thick, and it took both Dolon and Knox together to pull it from the C-Cabin and drag it all the way to bridge. They heaved it on to its side with a crash, then ran back to haul out whatever other furniture they could carry. They grabbed chairs and containers, ripped shelves from the walls, and dragged lockers from the cabins, piling all of it into jagged heaps along the hallway that led to the bridge.

  Vorsin returned, barely able to stand beneath a stack of enormous metal plates. They looked as though they'd been torn right out of the floors or walls of some forgotten corner of the ship. He rammed them one by one into the joints along the floor panels to create ranks of improvised chevaux de frise.

  "They will be contacting us soon," he said, stopping to admire their creation. He turned to look through the observation panel, following the approach of the dark, sleek ship that was now drawing near. An air of malice hung about him, a promise of violence that begged to be fulfilled.

  A tone sounded, and an amber light flashed on the communications console. Knox accepted the incoming transmission and a chubby pink face appeared on the display.

  "Rothians," Vorsin grimaced in disgust. "I told you they were slavers."

  The Rothian sneered at them through the vidscreen and said, "Our sensors suggest there are no more than five of you on board. Though in my experience that means there's more likely just three."

  "Why the hell did you fire on us?" Knox blurted out, feigning indignation. "We're spice traders, on our way to Varyan. You want hoq or a vial of Najanian okre? OK, not a problem. If you have money then maybe we can cut you a deal. But if you fire again then the price goes up."

  The Rothian laughed and looked over his shoulder, sharing the joke with someone that Knox couldn't see. He looked back at the screen and said, "If you surrender I can promise that you will not be harmed."

  "Surrender?" Knox said. "Surrender what? We're just independent traders, going about our business. We've broken no laws. I don't think there's any need for anyone to surrender to anyone else."

  The Rothian's face flushed a darker shade of pink, and his eyes hardened. "There's only one outcome here. You understand that, don't you? I'm offering you the easy way, but make no mistake, there is also a hard way. Don't make the wrong decision."

  "All the same—" said Knox, but before he could finish Vorsin had shoved him aside and thrust his masked face in front of the communications display.

  "Enough talk. Come and get us, Rothian," Vorsin said. Then he switched off the vidscreen and the bridge fell dark.

  Knox and Dolon positioned themselves behind the overturned desk, and Vorsin crouched down on the opposite side of the bridge behind a floor panel that he had saved for himself.

  "You didn't have to do that, you know," said Knox, "I was talking him round."

  "You were wasting your time," said Vorsin. "Women talk. Small wonder you cannot keep quiet now."

  Knox had to admit that the Yuruk knew what he was doing when it came to military defenses. The passageway to the bridge had been converted into a deadly funnel designed to slow anyone approaching their position. It would allow them through, one at a time, right past our firing positions, he thought. Dolon was set up behind cover across from him. Both of their weapons would be raining death down on the same target from two di
fferent directions.

  Welcome to the Fool's Gambit, you bastards, he thought.

  There was a low thud toward the rear of the ship, and Knox felt a tremor vibrate up through the floor. He glanced at the observation panel, seeing the sleek outline of a Rothian sloop.

  "They've docked," Dolon said, his voice dry and cracking.

  "How many of them do you think there are?" asked Knox.

  "It doesn't matter," Vorsin grunted. "We will kill them all."

  The three of them watched the door and waited in silence, save for the sound of their breathing and the click and whir of the ship's computer systems. Eventually they heard voices in the hallway, and the scuffling noise of someone clambering over, under, and through the barricades outside the bridge. Someone was barking orders, shouting over the angry voices that rose up in protest against him, and then they fell suddenly silent.

  Knox gripped and re-gripped his weapon, trying to keep it aimed precisely at the spot where he expected the first Rothian head to appear. His legs were stiff and he needed to stand, and stretch, but he remained crouched and did not move.

  From the corner of his eye, he could see Vorsin and Dolon both doing the same thing, all of them eager for something to happen. The waiting was maddening. The doorway remained empty.

  Without warning there was a high, cracking yell, and a Rothian soldier came racing through the door, coming directly at them. He swung a large pistol back and forth as he scanned the room, frantically looking for targets.

  Knox squeezed his trigger at the same moment Dolon did, and two bolts of deadly fire intersected at the intruder's chest with a sickening wet hiss. He crumpled to the floor, and the sweet smell of scorched flesh lifted into the air.

  "We're still hungry!" shouted Vorsin. "Send us another."

  Knox pulled back behind the desk and looked across the bridge at Dolon. "I think he actually enjoys this," he said.

  "I think he's going to get us killed," said Dolon.

  More noises came from the passageway. The Rothians were assembling at the door, and dragging heavy objects out of the way.

  "They're clearing the barricades," said Dolon. "This is it!"

  Knox heard something metal scraping the floor, and looked out from behind the desk to see Vorsin carrying one of the massive metal plates toward the door, holding it in front of himself like a shield. When he reached the doorway, he planted the plate on the ground and reached behind his back to draw the fusion rifle. He stuck the rifle past the plate and waved it back and forth, trying to make the doors open.