Starship's Mage: Omnibus: (Starship's Mage Book 1)

by Glynn Stewart

  “That’s a Venice class freighter,” the tech reported. “She’s making just over three gees – her crew is in one hell of a rush.”

  Alaura eyed the ship for a second, and then turned back to the video. “I am a Hand of the King,” she said bluntly. “Never tell me what I cannot do. Tell the Guildmaster to be ready.”

  Cutting the channel she glanced around the simulacrum chamber, the rune encrusted room at the heart of every ship, covered in screens and technology to allow the Mage to understand everything happening around her. On a Navy ship like the Tides of Justice, the simulacrum chamber doubled as the bridge – there was no point in doing anything else, as the ship’s main weapon was the amplifier that increased power of the Mage at its center a hundredfold.

  “Watch everything,” she ordered Harmon. “Locate every ship that’s moving, and every ship that’s not and keep me in the loop. Do not take any action without specific orders – this whole situation stinks.”

  “Understood, Ma’am,” the Lieutenant confirmed. He didn’t even look at his people; both Alaura and he knew they’d already be on it.

  She nodded to him, and then funneled magic through the Rune of Power on her arm and stepped across half a million kilometers, to the Dockmaster’s office.

  #

  Damien hung onto the simulacrum at the heart of the Blue Jay with both hands. Even with the freighter’s jump matrix turned into an amplifier, there was little he could do against the crushing acceleration of her engines at full power.

  All around him, viewscreens showed the space around them, overlaid with icons from the ship’s sensors. Linked into the amplifier, he barely needed them, as the freighter’s sensors were his eyes and ears.

  He saw the destroyer erupt into normal space terrifyingly close to the station and couldn’t help himself from staring at it. The sharp lines of the white warship were clean, and terrifying. If things went wrong, that warship could easily shoot them down, no matter how hard they ran.

  The advantage to the punishing acceleration they were under was that only a Navy destroyer could catch them. If nothing intervened, they would reach a region of space flat enough for him to jump the ship in just over a day.

  #

  “How the hell did you get here?” the Dockmaster demanded rudely as Alaura overrode the security on his door and strode in. “This is a private…” his voice trailed off as she removed the golden chain from around her neck and dropped the tiny golden open-palmed hand symbol of her office on his desk.

  “The station is in a state of emergency,” she told him flatly. “I came here to judge a case, and I find a hornet’s nest. What happened?”

  “There was a bank robbery,” the Dockmaster replied, after swallowing hard. Hands were terrifying to anyone sane, and Alaura wasn’t exactly trying to set him at ease. “It turned into a riot, and while System Security was dealing with that, seven prisoners broke free from the Core Zero-gravity Cells.”

  “Only seven?” she asked. She would expect somewhere like Corinthian to have more prisoners in the station-side high security cells than that.

  “Just the Mage they had locked up in there and half a dozen mob hit men,” the Dockmaster confirmed. “No one’s been reported dead yet, but they’re only getting back into the Cells now.”

  “Have any ships left since then?” she demanded.

  “The Blue Jay launched without permission,” the Dockmaster replied, sounding affronted. “I was told she was locked down – why the hell didn’t they at least unfuel her?!”

  Alaura held the man’s gaze coldly. The Dockmaster of a station the size of Corinthian Prime had to know the answer to that question – she knew that un-fuelling a freighter of the Blue Jay’s size was an exercise of days, so he should. That answered one question, at least. Damien Montgomery was gone, and he’d taken his ship with him.

  “Any other ships?”

  “No,” the Dockmaster pulled up a list on his computer. “There’s a liner scheduled to launch in an hour, we’re trying to get permission to seal the docks.”

  “Why haven’t you?” she demanded, shocked.

  “The docks are the lifeblood of this system!” the Dockmaster insisted proudly, his back straight as he looked her in the eyes. He then deflated slightly. “So, only the Governor can order them sealed, and he’s tied up in meetings.”

  “Right,” Alaura said slowly. She tapped the golden hand on its chain on the man’s desk. “Seal the docks,” she told him. “My authority.”

  The Dockmaster stared at the golden icon on his desk, the symbol of authority of a woman authorized to do anything short of shoot him at a whim. Shooting him, Alaura reflected, would require her to actually hold a trial, however short, and record the evidence in favor.

  After a moment’s hesitation, however, the man quickly got to work, typing messages into his computer and talking on the com.

  Turning away from him now that he was working, Alaura’s earpiece buzzed.

  “Stealey,” she answered quickly. “What is it, Harmon?”

  “You wanted to know what was going on,” the Mage-Lieutenant told her. “Well, we just noticed something you may want to intervene in.”

  “Which is?” she asked. Normally she had more patience with Harmon – he was extremely competent, just a little fussy.

  “There are two Navy destroyers in the system other than the Tides,” he told her. “They both just vectored after the Blue Jay – a request coming from the Corinthian Guildmaster. Given that there’s an escaped Class One Fugitive aboard…”

  “They will shoot to kill,” Alaura finished for him, grimly. “Thank you, Harmon. I’ll deal with it. Prep the Tides’ Marine detachment for crowd control and search work,” she added. “It looks like we have some scum we’ll need to find on station.”

  Turning back to the Dockmaster, she smiled grimly at him.

  “Where would I find the Navy System Command Center?”

  #

  There were few things in the universe David hated more than full emergency acceleration. He was strapped into his Captain’s chair, with his crew around him, but he couldn’t focus on much more than the fact that he felt like he weighed over two hundred kilos.

  The computer was programmed for twenty-four hours of this, which was going to leave the entire crew very cranky –but alive and free. Alive was important – and free was even more so.

  “Hey boss,” Jenna announced, her voice showing almost none of the strain of the acceleration. “Got a com channel inbound for you – looks like its Carmichael.”

  “Put him on,” David told her; and a moment later the image of the red-haired information broker appeared on the screen of his captain’s chair.

  “Captain Rice,” Carmichael greeted him. “You look uncomfortable.”

  “Emergency acceleration is quite bracing,” David replied. “You should try it sometime.”

  “I like my home system,” the businessman replied. “I have no intention of pissing off enough people to need to run. I’m surprised you ran as fast as you did though,” he admitted. “Carney and I were planning on the three hours it was going to take to get the Governor to authorize the lockdown – and the fact that the liner in dock has a notoriously stubborn captain.

  “You were right, though,” Carmichael continued. “The dock just went into lockdown, which means Carney’s men are stuck on station, instead of being snuck off until the heat dies down. I can’t help but suspect you knew something was coming.”

  “Everything I told you was true,” David replied.

  “Indeed, you are a man of your word,” the broker agreed. “Also, a man with more morals than most in our business, so I was surprised when you agreed to free six of the worst men in those cells – I doubt you didn’t look up their resumes.

  “So tell me, Captain, what speeds up the lockdown by three hours and makes you unafraid of those released thugs?”

  David considered it for a moment, eyeing the plot of the system showing the destroyer he was q
uite certain had delivered the Hand to the station, and shrugged.

  “The Guildmaster was planning to burn Damien out,” he said simply, “and summoned the only Judge who could. The same kind of Judge who could order a lockdown without the Governor.

  “You have a Hand on your station, Mr. Carmichael,” David continued, “and if you will not run, I would strongly suggest that you hide.”

  Carmichael’s face was frozen, and he was silent for a good minute.

  “You played us all,” he finally said, and his voice was admiring. “I appreciate the warning, Captain Rice, and I do believe I will follow your advice.” He paused. “I wouldn’t return to this system if I were you.”

  “I know,” Rice agreed.

  “That said, if you find yourself in Legatus, look up a man named Bryan Ricket,” the broker continued. “Tell him I sent you. He’ll find you work that stays under the radar.”

  “Thank you,” David answered. “I might just do that. Keep your head down.”

  “And the same to you, Captain Rice.”

  The channel broke off, and David looked up at a choking sound from Jenna. Her face had gone pale, and she met his gaze wordlessly, throwing up a wider chart of the system.

  On it, glowing in a bright green that mocked the reality of the situation, was the pair of Martian Navy destroyers he’d noted when they arrived in the system. They would intercept the Blue Jay well short of jump range. Not that it mattered. With what they’d done, the Navy would settle for putting a missile into them.

  #

  Two uniformed Marines guarded the entrance to System Command. Armed with black battle rifles and clad in digitally camouflaged armor, they were a barrier to any random and most non-random intruders - a barrier that melted away instantly at the sight of the golden hand hung around Alaura’s neck.

  Inside, glowing wall-screens surrounded a massive holographic display that displayed the location of every ship, structure, and rock ever identified in the Corinthian system. Arrows showing vectors and paths criss-crossed the display, but three were glowing brightly as the system focused on the Blue Jay and the two destroyers chasing it down.

  “Understand me Mage-Captain,” a voice was saying into a communicator, “Damien Montgomery is a Class One Fugitive and the crew aboard the Blue Jay accomplices in his escape. We have no idea what that ship might be capable of – you are to destroy it from maximum range.”

  “Belay that,” Alaura interrupted, stepping up next to the Commodore, who was clearly taking his orders from the Guildmaster standing on the other side of him.

  “Break off the pursuit and return to the station,” she ordered.

  “Who the hell are you?” the Commodore demanded, turning to face her. “No one has the authority…”

  He trailed off as he saw the chain around her neck.

  “I have the authority,” she said bluntly, looking past the Commodore to the Guildmaster.

  “Look at it this way, gentlemen,” she continued calmly. “If you’re right, it won’t matter – the Blue Jay will tear itself apart when Montgomery jumps her.

  “And if you’re wrong, Montgomery has achieved something unique. I need to know which it is, do you understand me?”

  Both men glanced away, cowed by the golden hand she wore, and she leaned into the communicator.

  “Confirm receipt of your orders, Captains,” she said calmly. “You will return to the station and prepare your Marines to assist Corinthian System Security in tracking down the escaped criminals. Understood?”

  #

  Damien looked at the two deadly pyramids showing up on the scanners, feeling them through the amplifier and studying them.

  He was reasonably sure he had the same capabilities as either ship in terms of magic, though the Ship Mage’s aboard the warships would be better trained. The catch was that he – and the destroyers’ Mages – could only reach out about six light seconds with their magic. He wasn’t sure of the exact capabilities of the missiles the destroyers carried, but his understanding was that their range was on the order of ten times that.

  Destroyers had been built to take down ships like the Blue Jay – stolen amplifiers and obsolete weapons, retrofitted onto freighters that couldn’t outrun the warships, or outrange their devastating antimatter missiles.

  Anything they could do with magic, he could do. But they had better technology, and the anti-missile turrets mounted on the freighter would never suffice against real missiles.

  But he could do anything they could do with magic. Realization sunk in, as he looked back at Corinthian Prime, and the destroyer that had erupted right next to the station.

  He reached out through the amplifier and the Blue Jay’s sensors, studying the gravity and space around the freighter. His training said it wasn’t flat enough to jump, but now he studied it with open eyes. It… might be possible.

  “Captain,” he said into the communicator. “How far are you willing to trust me?”

  Rice gave a surprised bark of laughter.

  “Far enough to save us from two destroyers?”

  “Cut the acceleration,” Damien told him. “Cut the acceleration – and prepare to jump!”

  #

  The only sound in the Command Center was the soft whir of computers and the slight, almost unnoticeable buzz of the holographic display.

  “Any debris?” Alaura finally asked.

  “No ma’am,” a Navy sensor tech replied, refusing to look at her as he answered her question.

  She glanced over at the Commodore and the Guildmaster, both staring at the simple blue icon of a jump flare exit on the display.

  “You were wrong,” she said simply. “It appears that Montgomery has given the Blue Jay a fully functional amplifier.

  “Now… let’s see what he does with it.”

  ###

  3

  For a heavy cargo hauler, the shuttle was surprisingly maneuverable in deep space. Basically a metal box with a rocket pod attached to each side by a gimbal mount, it was controlled by a pair of joysticks, one on either side of the pilot’s seat.

  Damien Montgomery, Ship’s Mage of the interstellar freighter Blue Jay, gently pushed the left stick forward while pulling the right stick back, keeping both in the center of their side range. His thumb pulled the toggles on the side of each joystick down, reducing the amount of hydrogen being fed to the fusion rockets to slow the force of the spin to something he and the older man in the copilot’s seat could take.

  “Not bad,” Narveer Singh told the youth, reaching back to scratch under the white turban he wore even while dressed in a flight suit. “I guess you really did qualify on these birds.”

  “I qualified on the Hawk type,” Damien admitted. “They’re a few decades older than these, but the controls are much the same.”

  “What else can you fly?” the Blue Jay’s senior pilot asked.

  The slim young man paused, checking the screens to be sure that the shuttle was clear of its mother freighter. Alone in deep space, they were light years from anything else that could pose an obstacle.

  “I qualified on light shuttles, heavy cargo shuttles, heavy personnel shuttles and sub-light spacecraft up to fifteen megatons,” he reeled off quickly. “I’m also qualified for light aircraft, but anything beyond that wasn’t necessary.”

  Narveer blinked.

  “You, you are a pilot!” he exclaimed. “My three boys aren’t qualified for all of the shuttles, and even I couldn’t fly the Jay herself.”

  “I qualified on a Dealer type,” Damien told him. “She was basically a Venice like the Jay without the jump matrix.”

  The First Pilot shook his head, checking the screens in front of him. “Why?”

  “Every Jump Mage trained in Sherwood had to,” Damien explained. “The theory was that, since you couldn’t make it home at all without the Jump Mage, they’d train us so that we could get the ship home on our own.”

  Singh plugged a sequence of way points into the computer as he shook his h
ead in response. “Follow those through,” he instructed. “Gives us a bit of time away from the ship, but then we’ll have to head back. You’ll need to jump us again soon.”

  Damien nodded silently. He was the only Mage amongst the Blue Jay’s eighty crew members, which meant he was the only one able to cast the spell that would catapult the three million ton ship across the stars.

  “Any idea where we’re jumping?” he asked Narveer as he carefully curved the shuttle over their ship. The Blue Jay was built to be functional, not pretty, and looked as much as an egg-beater as anything else. Four massive curved ribs extended from her central keel, rotating to provide gravity for the crew to eat and sleep.

  “The Captain, he’ll have a plan,” Singh stated confidently. “He got you out, didn’t he?”

  Two days earlier, the crew had pulled Damien from a jail cell, saving him from being stripped of his magic. Now, the Protectorate was hunting them, which was why they were in deep space, waiting for the Captain to pick somewhere for them to hide.

  #

  David Rice, Captain of the interstellar freighter Blue Jay, watched his First Officer walk across the ship’s bridge towards him with far more attention to the pot of coffee she carried than the heavily built blond woman herself.

  “You, XO, are a life saver,” he told her as she poured him a cup.

  Jenna glanced around the empty bridge. “From your many and varied enemies on a ship in deep space in the middle of the night?”

  Rice shrugged his broad shoulders and grinned.

  “At this point, ‘many and varied’ is a good description of our enemies,” he reminded her. They’d made enemies of one of the Protectorate’s largest criminal syndicates years ago, and now the government of the Protectorate wanted them arrested – something to do with stealing a Mage prisoner out from under the nose of a Hand of the Mage-King of Mars.