Buccaneers (Privateer Tales Book 8)

by Jamie McFarlane

  "I'd want a few hours in the chair to see how it sails," Mom said.

  "Wait. We don't need to do this," I said. "We didn't sign up for this." My mind was spinning.

  "You are correct, Captain. You have the right to back out," Ok Moon said.

  "And undo all of our plans? That's not going to happen," Mom said. "I'll sail her."

  "Not without me," Ada said.

  Ok Moon gestured toward the ship. "We've already prepared the harness and with your permission I will have it installed."

  Both Mom and Ada looked at me and I felt the weight of the position they were putting me in.

  "I'd like to reserve the option to back out if we deem the ship too difficult to maneuver," I said.

  "Of course, Captain. We will also provide you with a simulation to prepare Captains Hoffen and Chen for fold-space."

  "Let's do it," I said.

  "Very well," Ok Moon turned to look through the pressure barrier.

  A steel superstructure slowly sailed from below us toward the Adela Chen. It was carried along by something that looked a lot like a common pod-jumper.

  "Cap. There's unusual activity near the Adela Chen. Can you advise?" Marny's voice sounded in my ear.

  "That's us Marny. Belirand is hooking up a rig for our trip through the TransLoc gate."

  "Aye. I hoped that's what we had going on. We'll stand down," she said. I wondered what she might have done if I hadn't explained.

  The pilot expertly guided the structure into place. Once set, a welding crew EVA'd from the pod-jumper to make permanent connections.

  "We'll remove the structure once you arrive in Tipperary," Ok Moon said. "If I could get the captains to reboard their ship, we'll provide instruction on how we've seen this configuration work the best."

  "Let's go," I said.

  Mom placed her hand on my shoulder and held me back.

  "What?" I asked.

  "This will be a hard lesson, but you need to trust your crew, Liam. This is Ada's and mine to deal with."

  Ada smiled. She wasn't about to get between Mom and me. It was hard to take. I thought of myself as the best pilot, but if I was honest, when it came to the Adela Chen, Mom and Ada both had substantially more experience.

  "Okay. Check in once you're done," I said.

  Mom gave me a quick side-hug. "Pete said you were growing up. I wasn't sure, but maybe he was right."

  ***

  The hour of departure finally arrived. Mom and Ada had drilled for ten hours with the harness and in the end, their confidence was high. Sailing in fold-space was said to be less disruptive than hard-burn, but just like hard-burn it was the moments around transition that caused the most problems.

  Both Sterra's Gift and Hotspur had originally been designed with fold-space in mind. And according to Weird Wally, Hotspur had been designed specifically for travel through the gates. Belirand control walked us through the process anyway. I wasn't opposed to their instruction, although it felt like they went out of their way to describe many things that seemed overly obvious.

  The fifty-two hour trip would be relatively easy. Our AIs were designed to keep the ships dead in the middle of the fold-space bubble. Tabby and I split up so we had an experienced pilot on both ships. Me on Sterra's Gift and her on Hotspur.

  Things on the Adela Chen would be more difficult. Mom and Ada would swap shifts throughout the entire journey, starting with two hour shifts, then stretching to four. Dad insisted he ride along to help 'keep things lively.'

  An interesting benefit of fold-space was that we'd be able to communicate normally with any ship in our bubble. We were in the last of three bubbles. The first two each held twelve ships and our bubble only had five – our three, the Belirand Cruiser, Cape of Good Hope, and the Oberrhein ship, Karelia.

  A few hours before departure, we started a giant lineup. It reminded me of grade school on Colony 40. Only instead of placing my hand on the person in front of me, I was lined up a hundred meters on their aft. The Belirand Terminal was laid out so an entire raft of ships would spool out in a row across the expansive deck and wait for the TransLoc gate to establish communication with its twin in Bethe Peierls. With communication established, a fold-space wave would be harmonized and ships that were part of the same bubble would engage their TransLoc engines.

  Watching it happen before experiencing it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Initially, it didn't look like much was happening, with the ships sitting stationary in a line over the platform. When the gates fired up, warning lights raced down the length of the platform. As the lights passed each ship, their TransLoc engines would fire and glow bright orange. By the time the lights arrived at the end of the platform, the ships had simply disappeared.

  The concept of fold-space was that ships were taking an alternative route through space, as if jumping through folds of cloth. But, the idea that hundreds of thousands of tonnes of ships simply vanished was hard to process.

  "Captain Hoffen, we'd like to synchronize the movement of the final raft of ships onto the Terminal. Will you consent?"

  A request popped up on my forward vid screen requesting temporary control of Sterra's Gift. I'd already been warned about this, so I complied. Shortly after, I glided along behind Cape of Good Hope and Karelia onto the Terminal deck. Having already watched it happen, I knew what to expect but it was still nerve racking. According to the briefing, once we were in fold-space, it was our responsibility to stay on the wave and in the bubble. Up to that point, Belirand would be in control.

  "TransLoc engines engaging in 30 seconds," Sterra's Gift announced. Jake, Celina, Jack and Jenny were all on the bridge, every bit as curious as I was. I pushed the countdown onto the forward holo display.

  At exactly zero, the TransLoc engines engaged and the world turned inside out, or so it seemed. Reading about the experience and feeling it were two different things. I can say with some certainty that it is weird. When transitioning from normal to fold-space it is as if, for a few moments, every bit of matter around you has elongated irrationally. Colors blurred as people and objects seemed to blend together, like we were hot birthday candles smeared together horizontally.

  Almost as quickly as it started, the visual dissonance ended. The only thing that indicated we were in fold-space was the movement of the stars, which were now jumping around as if I were blinking my eyes and spinning around. It was unpleasant enough that I decided it wasn't a view I was interested in.

  "Adela Chen, check in," I requested. We'd been briefed that If there was going to be a problem, it would occur within the first few seconds after transition.

  "Adela Chen, A-Okay," Ada's cheerful voice replied. "What'd you think of that trip?"

  "Not a big fan," I said. "Hotspur, check in," I continued. I felt a pulse on my finger under my ring. I was reassured to know that Tabby was doing well.

  "Hotspur, kicking ass!" Tabby replied. I should have known she would have thought that was cool.

  "What do you make of that?" I asked, looking back at the assembled group on the bridge.

  Celina and Jake were both seated on the couch, obviously looking out at the stars.

  "It's hard to look at," Celina said.

  "No kidding," I said.

  Jake cleared his throat. "As you probably know, the fold-space wave establishes a non-Euclidian path through the galaxy. Along that path we're literally changing our real or normal location almost constantly. The blinking you're observing is real, although we're actually changing position a hundred times faster than we're able to observe."

  "That's going to get old in a hurry," I said.

  "No kidding," Celina agreed.

  For the next fifty hours we changed shifts every four. The blinking became less annoying as the trip continued, mostly because I made an effort to tune it out.

  Arriving at Terminal Two was considerably less disruptive than leaving had been. The only real indication we were no longer in fold-space was that one second we were sailing along, stars blinkin
g, and the next second we'd materialized a thousand kilometers from the station and the stars had ceased their mad dancing. A momentary feeling of deja-vu occurred, as Terminal Two appeared to be an exact copy of Terminal One.

  "Incoming hail, Belirand Terminal Two," my AI informed me.

  Open comm, I said.

  "Greeting, Sterra's Gift. Welcome to Bethe Peierls. I'm transmitting instructions for refueling and rejoining the expedition's trek to Terminal Three. Will you need access to station services?"

  "Greetings, Belirand. No, we're ready to get going," I said.

  "Very well. Safe travels. Belirand out."

  I regretted not exploring the Bethe Peierls star system but I also wanted to get on with our journey.

  After refueling, we received navigation instructions that would have us join the other ships in the expedition. It was only a forty hour burn to Terminal Three, which would take us directly to the New Pradesh system.

  THICK AS THIEVES

  Arriving at Terminal Five was a welcome relief. It would take us from the New Pradesh system to our final destination of Tipperary. Belirand had been the model of efficiency, organizing our thirty some ships through the gates, regrouping us each time we exited the even gates to make our way to the next odd-gate for refueling.

  "Ready to see your new home?" I asked Celina, who'd taken to hanging out on the bridge when she wasn't on duty.

  "It's exciting. I'm probably more excited to stop sailing through fold-space, though," she said.

  I laughed, although I agreed with her sentiment.

  An hour after our arrival at Terminal Five we lined up once again on the platform. Cape of Good Hope, followed by the Oberrhein ship Karelia, then Sterra's Gift, followed by Hotspur and finally the Adela Chen.

  Celina pointed out the window. "What's he up to?"

  The Karelia appeared to be having trouble lining up on the platform, fading off to the starboard side. We were moments from trans-locating and the last thing anyone wanted was for a ship to be out of position. At the last moment, however, the Karelia slid back in line.

  The universe unhinged, lights slid backwards and everything smeared around us. After our first trip, Ada compared the experience to living in an impressionist painting. I had to look up what she was talking about, but after some research, I thought it was about as good a description as could be had.

  The second stage of TransLocation was riding the wave of fold-space. I looked out the armored glass expectantly waiting for the blinking stars to start.

  "Liam!" Celina shouted at the same time a warning klaxon sounded.

  We had barely entered fold-space and Cape of Good Hope was already listing heavily to starboard, in front of the Karelia. If they didn't adjust back into the wave, the ship would be ripped apart.

  "Mayday, mayday, mayday. We've experienced a failure in our starboard TransLocation Engine and are unable to maintain course."

  "Hail Cape of Good Hope, how can we help?" I asked.

  "Karelia, we need you to close the distance and make physical contact with our starboard. We're sending instructions for your AI now."

  Captain LeGrande was the very picture of a professional. The world as she knew it was breaking up and she was calmly explaining corrective action. A leadership trait I admired.

  "Say again, Cape of Good Hope." It was Georgi who responded. The holo display showed him turned to the side gesticulating at something outside of the range of the holo transmitter. A moment later, the holo feed from Karelia blinked out.

  Captain LeGrande's face pinched. Either she'd received a direct response or drew a conclusion from the Karelia's withdrawn feed. We waited for a few moments, watching as the Cape continued her dangerous slide toward the edge of the fold-space bubble.

  "Captain LeGrande. They aren't answering. Recalibrate with my ship," I said.

  Hail Karelia. "Make room, Georgi, I'm coming by on your starboard side."

  "That's not advised, Captain Hoffen." The oily voice that responded was Petar.

  I snarled. "It wasn't a request."

  Show fold-space envelope on my HUD. Project a path to Cape of Good Hope.

  There was just enough room to slide by and I accelerated.

  "They're not moving," Celina said. She was seated right next to me.

  "There's room." I tried to remain as calm as LeGrande.

  "Move over, Georgi," Tabby commanded. "If you push Sterra's Gift out, I'll launch every missile on this boat up your ass!"

  That must have gotten someone's attention as the Karelia moved over.

  "Captain Hoffen, I need you to back down. You don't possess sufficient thrust to offset our trajectory," Captain LeGrande said.

  "We'll see." I just cleared the Karelia. She was right, it was going to be tight. Cape of Good Hope was getting dangerously close to the edge of the fold-space bubble.

  "No, Captain. Do not compound this tragedy. I'm uploading a data burst. Please see that it is delivered to Belirand."

  I accelerated. Even without the AI, however, I could see we wouldn't make it.

  The starboard side of Cape of Good Hope came in contact with the edge of the fold-space bubble and horrifically sheared off, disappearing from view. There would be no recovery.

  "I'm sorry, Captain," I said. I wanted to scream, but I would honor her and her crew by respecting their last few moments.

  The ship had no capability to stop its slide out of the bubble and unexpectedly, Captain LeGrande spun up her thrusters and accelerated into the void. It was a final act of selflessness.

  "God Speed, Captain," I said quietly.

  We watched as the ship disappeared, only small parts sailing along in the fold-space wave with us. Without engines to guide them, they'd eventually fall out of the bubble and drop into normal space.

  Hail Belirand Terminal.

  "Belirand Terminals Five and Six are not within communications range," the AI responded.

  I slid Sterra's Gift back into the center of the bubble and tightened up the distance between us and Karelia.

  "You okay, Liam?" It was Nick.

  "Yes. How many were on Cape of Good Hope?"

  "Forty-five souls," Marny said.

  "Anyone catch what caused the failure?" Tabby's bust popped up onto the holo display next to Nick.

  "No. Just before they declared their emergency, I saw them fade off to starboard and down about ten degrees," I said.

  "It had to be Oberrhein," Tabby said. It was the easy conclusion.

  "Careful, Tabbs. We didn't see anything like that. It's a big jump from being an asshat to murdering forty-five crew," I said. "Marny, any ideas?"

  "No. Karelia's behavior was suspicious, but they could have just been protecting their crew," she said. "Send me your sensor logs. I'll get the same from Adela Chen. We'll see if we can make any sense of it."

  "How about our quantum comm device?" Tabby asked. "Should we send a message to Mars Protectorate?"

  "I'll send a message and have them relay it to Belirand," Marny said.

  "Let's free those turrets. Until we know what happened, I'm working under the assumption that this could have been an act of sabotage," Tabby said.

  "Roger that, but let me contact Karelia. If we unlimber our turrets, they may not accept our comm," I said.

  "Roger, Wilco," Tabby replied.

  Hail Karelia, I said.

  "Karelia. What can I do for you, Captain Hoffen?" Petar had denied the holographic and video feeds again.

  "Will you share your sensor logs from the events leading up to Cape of Good Hope's disaster? We're trying to piece together what occurred," I said.

  "What's to be done about it?" he asked.

  "That's what we're trying to determine. Will you comply?" I asked.

  "No, Captain. We will leave the investigating to Belirand," he said and terminated communications.

  Open comm, Adela Chen and Hotspur.

  "What's going on, Liam?" Mom asked. Her face was drawn.

  "Are you stable?" I
asked.

  "Roger that. Tell us what's happening."

  "Marny, have you found anything new?" I asked.

  "No, Cap. Sterra's Gift was in the best position for information and with the Karelia in the way, we were all perfectly blocked."

  "How perfectly?"

  "Not sure I understand your question," she said.

  "Was Karelia blocking Sterra's Gift's view of the Cape's engine?" I asked.

  "Yes. But, to imply that it was intentional would be a leap," she said.

  That was enough for me. "We should unlimber the turrets."

  "Hold on, Cap. We don't want to be seen as taking provocative action," Marny said. "We are in Belirand controlled space and they've taken a huge loss. They'll be jumpy about things as it is. I'll set up a monitor on Karelia's turrets and missile bay. If their status changes we can respond immediately. They won't want to mix it up with three ships in fold-space. Even if they got one of us, they'd have two more to deal with."

  "I hope we don't regret this," Tabby said.

  "We'll stay alert," Marny assured her. "Pete, I'm going to need your help. I want human eyes on those turrets until we're out of fold-space."

  While I hadn't seen Dad on the holo, I knew, just as Marny did, that he was listening. "Oorah," was his one-word response. It was a greeting he reserved exclusively for other Marines. I had to admit it made me proud that he'd accepted Marny as one of his own.

  I thumbed my ring and caught Tabby's eye. She held my gaze for a moment. I knew what she was thinking. Someone had murdered those sailors and she wanted to avenge them. Only the slightest thread of doubt kept her in check. But, if the Karelia's turrets moved a centimeter, she'd respond instantly.

  I closed the comm and stared out the armor glass of the cockpit, trying to process the loss of forty-five souls. I hoped that Oberrhein had nothing to do with what had occurred, but a sinking feeling in my stomach told me otherwise.

  Celina, who was seated in the other pilot's chair laid her hand on my arm. "Liam. We'll get through this. What can we do?"

  I smiled. It was hard to imagine how far the two of us had come. From enemies to trusting our lives to each other.