by Drew Wagar
‘Oh frak, no… no… no…’ she breathed.
Then she felt the nudge as the Dark Star began moving again, leaving the Hammer behind.
What’s going on?
Udian had shut down his engines and relaxed as the Viper police ships continued to scan his vessel.
‘Are you looking for something in particular?’ he queried, watching the flickering scanning beams trace patterns across the hull again.
‘Scanners picked up the signature of a Thargoid vessel,’ the answer came back.
‘Really?’ Udian feigned complete surprise. ‘But this isn’t a Thargoid vessel. It is a bio-ship, perhaps it generated a false ident? I’ll happily transmit an updated transponder meta-code if that will help.’
‘Hammer of Sorrow. Hold position.’
‘As you wish.’
Udian smiled inwardly.
Derik was likewise puzzled. He’d seen the blip on his own scanner and peered at it suspiciously. He’d listened to Coyote’s careful exchange of words with the Galcop police on the narrow-band comms.
He grimaced as the Persistence slowly moved past the stationary Hammer.
What are you playing at Udian?
Udian’s ship and the four Vipers fell astern, shrinking on the rear view. Then the narrowband comms became active once again.
‘Cobra class vessel Dark Star, you are cleared to jump to Anxeonis. Proceed immediately. Caduceus class vessel Persistence of Memory, standby to jump when witch-space transit wormhole from previous jump has closed. Cadeceus class vessel Hammer of Sorrow, you are cleared to proceed to witch-space transit point.’
Derik let out a sigh as he saw Udian’s ship move slowly away from the Vipers and resume position behind him.
False alarm? Didn’t fancy going into Anxeonis without a full armada…
Coyote frowned, watching the astrogation scanner. Udian’s ship was falling back into the convoy but at the rear now, rather than at the front where Coyote had wanted him.
Can’t have just been a glitch, timing is too convenient. But why would he want to jump last? What’s he doing? What’s the angle? It’s not going to make that much of a difference. We’ll have this out on the other side…
Coyote had no more time to consider the possibilities. The automated countdown triggered and the Dark Star surged into witch-space along with the Spectre.
Rebecca watched the sequence from the bridge and felt the Spectre drop into witch-space at the same moment. This was it, the longest jump of them all. Across the Knife Edge. She’d never been this way before. There weren’t many good reasons for entering the Tortuga expanse.
A brief flash of light flickered across the darkened bridge monitors before the characteristic swirling patterns of witch-space formed in front of her.
We made it!
She flicked on the transmitter controls.
‘Coyote, you there?’
Coyote’s voice sounded over the narrow-band, distorted by the peculiar effects of the witch-space tunnel.
‘I’m here,’ his voice sounded grim.
‘What happened back there?’
‘Not sure… Maybe nothing… ’ Coyote’s voice was low and pensive. ‘Power up. I’m ready to drop the tow.’
‘Copy that,’ Rebecca acknowledged and began keying the auto-startup sequences. Within a few seconds the Spectre began humming back into life. The various status panels illuminated; shields, weapons, engines. All ok.
‘All set,’ she replied after a minute, as the life support made the cockpit habitable again. She unzipped the enviro-suit, glad to be able to breathe fresh air once more.
‘Dropping tow,’ Coyote called.
Rebecca saw the magnetic clamp detach and swiftly rewind itself back into the rear of Coyote’s ship. With both ships quiescent during the transit, neither appeared to move relative to the other.
‘Jettisoning cargo bays,’ Rebecca said, switching off the magnetic clamps that held her disguise in place. After a handful of jolts she could begin to see the old extension modules begin to float away from the Spectre, slowly being pushed away by the minute station-keeping thrusters used to manoeuvre them in normal space.
As she watched the cargo bays drifted towards the inner boundary of the witch-space tunnel. As they came in contact they began to tumble and drift backwards behind the two ships. Before long they were lost to sight. Rebecca knew they’d eventually fall out of the tunnel and drop back into normal space somewhere along their route. Some future explorer might one day encounter them, wondering what could possibly have caused a bunch of cargo bay modules to end up in deep space.
‘All clear,’ she called.
‘Good. Sit tight and be ready when we get to the other side,’ Coyote’s distorted voice returned.
Udian watched as the worm-hole from Derik’s Persistence shrank, flickered and vanished.
‘Cadeceus class vessel Hammer of Sorrow, you are clear for witch-space jump. Acknowledge.’
Udian acknowledged the call and activated the jump computers. The countdown began. As it passed the last five seconds he activated the engine management computers again.
One more time, just to be sure they know where we are…
The engines on the Hammer stuttered again.
Udian saw the Vipers immediately turn and begin surging towards him. The Galcop police activated the narrowband comms channels…
‘Cadeceus class vessel Hammer of Sorrow, abort witch-space jump and stand…’
Space flickered, scintillated and the Hammer was gone.
Rebecca turned her attention back to the flight instruments. Ahead she could still see Coyote’s Cobra. She’d never flown in such a close witch-space formation before. You had to be careful not to disrupt the wormhole with too much mass. Both ships were strictly following computerised guidance, effectively immobile as light years of space streamed past in a matter of minutes.
It’s just witch-space. Try not to worry…
It had always entranced her. She remembered how she used to think of it as a magic place, lost between the worlds. Only when she was older did she understand about the monitoring satellites, branch lines, stop points and rescue stations dotted along the many channels at intervals of several billion kilometres to ensure witch-space transit remained reasonably secure and predictable.
Then there were the things that could go wrong. Atomic reorganisation and time travel. Both could really ruin your day.
It was a non-space, between. The gap that separated nothing from nothing.
They used to say it was haunted. Maybe that’s why they call it ‘witch’. My father used to say there were ghosts in here, shadows of people who went in and never came out…
A shadow passed over the cockpit of the Spectre.
Rebecca looked up, uncomprehending, jolted from her reverie.
Another ship?
For a moment she stared, terrified, the cold clutches of fear making her heart hammer violently.
The other vessel was so close it almost brushed against her own. It slowly moved a little further away, a hideous green and magenta sheen flickered across its external hull, almost as if it was alive. Rebecca turned to see the first angle of an octagonal form…
Witch-space ambush!
‘There’s a Tharg in the tube!’ she yelled into the narrow-band. Sickening green light flickered around her and the Spectre lurched.
‘RAGAZZA! DUX DUCIS INCOLUMITAS!’
Coyote heard Rebecca’s cry and snapped on the rear viewer. Rebecca’s Spectre was directly behind him. Above it, bold as brass, was a Thargoid warship, hovering barely a few metres above Rebecca’s ship.
Where did that come from?
‘Hold on!’ he snapped into the narrow-band comms. He tried to abort the auto-pilot but his commands were rejected. He knew it was highly dangerous to attempt to navigate manually through a witch-space tunnel…
Warning! Disengaging autopilot during witch-space transit is not recommended. Please enter override code to confirm.
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‘Do it you damned machine…’
Warning! Code incorrect. Please enter override code to confirm.
Coyote stabbed in the codes. He was still wrestling with the controls when a blaze of green light washed over him. He looked up at the rear view.
The Spectre was rolling drunkenly, as if its stabilisation thrusters were firing. Coyote could see the Thargoid was emitting a beam of intense green light. The Spectre spun, putting Coyote in mind of a fly being wrapping a silk cocoon by a victorious spider.
Abruptly the witch-space tunnel shifted, bifurcating into two overlapping tunnels of light. The new one slowly began to arc away from the first as they continued to travel through it; his Cobra following the original and the Spectre and the Thargoid following the new one.
Rebecca’s voice came faintly from the narrowband.
‘Coyote! You need to listen to me. Contact Jim McKenna…’
‘Rebecca?’ Coyote fired back. ‘I’m coming about, just…’
'No listen, there’s no time! Raxxla!' she cried. 'Remember: Raxxla! Tell Jim, remember Raxxla, Coyote! I wouldn't have wished this on you. Raxxla!'
‘Raxxla? What?’ Coyote hammered into the narrowband. ‘Rebecca! No!’
There was no further response. The second tunnel quickly shrank astern, before rapidly fading in the darkness of the non-void.
Coyote grasped the arms of his flight seat as the witch-space transit ended. The Dark Star reappeared in normal space.
Both the Spectre and the Thargoid vessel were gone.
Rebecca saw the tunnel change direction before she was abruptly dumped out into normal space prematurely. A quick glance at the advanced compass told her all she needed to know. She hadn’t arrived at Anxeonis. This was interstellar space, somewhere between the start of her jump point and the destination.
The Astrogation scanner confirmed her worst fears. There were at least ten Thargoid vessels in the vicinity. Most were the familiar warships but one had a much larger mass signature. A mothership.
She could see it on the viewer, hanging in the background some distance away. A large malevolent vessel, a huge green disk perhaps two or three kilometres in diameter.
She spun the Spectre around, triggering the gravity lensing drive. The Spectre shot forward, escaping the clutches of the Thargoid warship that had ambushed her in witch-space.
You’re not taking me without a fight!
Ghostly fingers of light flickered around the cockpit, the familiar caress of scanning beams. Rebecca tried to evade but it was pointless.
‘RAGAZZA! DUX DUCUS INCOLUMITAS!’
Is it me or do they actually sound gleeful?
Rebecca locked the witch-space coordinated onto the Anxeonis, waited a moment for the astrogation computer to catchup and then triggered the jump.
Thank frak for the first rule of smuggling!
Green lasers splashed out towards her. She instinctively dodged, anticipating and reacting before the Thargoids could target her.
Witch-space in 15 seconds.
All of the warships swarmed in her direction but their fire seemed half-hearted, un-concerned.
She triggered the trinary forward weapons of the Spectre and the Thargoid immediately before her dodged and fled, immediately breaking off its engagement.
Witch-space in 10 seconds….
She spun the Spectre around and picked another target. Minor hits were deflected by the shields on her ship. This new Thargoid did exactly the same thing, disengaging the moment she attacked. Rebecca didn’t know how to counter the defensive tactics. Each Thargoid would withdraw, allowing another to slot in behind her.
Witch-space in 5 seconds…
She fired again, watching the laser temperature edge into the middle of the gauge. Another Thargoid retreated, letting another take its place. They were swapping in and out, clearly aware of the firepower possessed by the Spectre, each taking their own share of the weaponry blast, before allowing another to shoulder the burden while the earlier one recharged. All the while the Spectre’s power was slowly being drained away.
Witch-space motors engaged.
Warning! Witch-space jump aborted! Gravity well detected. Unable to establish stable wormhole.
Rebecca clenched her hands on the controls.
Jammed. Must be the mothership!
Rebecca turned and started to head in the opposite direction to the mothership, with a view to getting as far away from it as possible in the hope of still making a jump.
The Thargoids had other plans.
The moment they calculated her vector they immediately intercepted her, a wall of ships rising up in front of her flight path. Fierce green laser fire splashed across her shields, almost depleting them in a single strike. Rebecca was forced to turn away to starboard. The Thargoids swarmed along her port flank, peppering the hull with laser fire.
She tried again, reversing her course, trading laser fire and trying to punch through the wall of ships. It was to no avail. The Thargoids regrouped and reformed their formation, blocking her route and covering her flightpath with criss-crossing beams of deadly energy. She turned aside again, this time to port.
They aren’t going to let me go.
‘Ragazza, dux ducis incolumitas… ’ The proclaimation came across the wide-band, different now. Subdued, almost thoughtful.
Rebecca fired angrily but the Thargoids dodged out of the way, refusing to engage directly, before turning and aligning themselves once again. Green lasers flickered across her shields, further draining the energy onboard the Spectre.
It was only a matter of time.
Jim was standing on the bridge of the Dubious Profit when the ships emerged from witch-space. A familiar ship appeared, a rather battered looking Cobra Mk3. It had clearly seen some action.
Next came a sinister looking bio-ship. He’d not seen a Caduceus in real life before, it was an imposing vessel. He could tell from the reactions of Hesperus and Stepan that they were likewise intimidated. Some ships did that; the overwhelming impression of power, speed and barely restrained ferocity. Jim waited and a third ship arrived, another Caduceus, similar to the first.
‘Thargoids in the damn tube!’ a clipped voice snapped on the narrow-band. ‘What the frak is going on? Hang on, where’s…’
‘Aren’t there supposed to be four of them?’ Hesperus asked, counting off on his molybdenum coated claws.
‘Yes…’ Jim answered, his stomaching tightening with dread. ‘Scan them. I need to confirm the IDs!’
Where’s Rebecca?
Hesperus jabbed the ident computer as Jim grabbed the narrowband comm-link. ‘Which one of you is Coyote?’
‘Jim McKenna? That you?’ a voice returned, with curious lilting accent. The comm-link showed it was the Cobra, the Dark Star.
‘This is Jim, where’s Rebecca?’
‘Thargoids ambushed us in witch-space,’ came the alarming response. ‘Rebecca’s ship was intercepted. I’m plotting a return course to the point. Standby and follow my co-ordinates for the jump!’
She knew they were after her…
‘No bug is kidnapping someone on my watch!’ the clipped voice returned. ‘I’ve got a reputation to maintain, let’s get ‘em!’
‘I’m not going interstellar!’ Hesperus exclaimed. ‘No one ever comes back from those…’
‘Who the frak is that?’ Coyote demanded. Jim could see one of the Caducei had flipped end over end, readying itself for a return jump. The other was not changing course, still coasting away from its inbound jump point.
Jim glared at Hesperus across the bridge. ‘His names Hesperus. He’s just readying the jump, aren’t you?’
‘Er… I… um… Thargoids?’ Hesperus flapped his paws around. Stepan sat at the nav-comp, looking terrified.
‘Danger money?’ Jim snapped angrily. ‘Whatever it takes, push the damn buttons!’
‘Danger money!’ Hesperus said, his eyes lighting up. ‘Make the jump Stepan! Let’s kick some Thargoid ass!’<
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‘Hold on… ’ Coyote’s voice sounded across the narrowband. ‘Got inbound witch-space sheer. Something is coming through. Hold position, be ready.’
Jim looked up at the viewer as chromatic light flashed out from a minute point, before rapidly expanding. A ship coalesced out of the glare.
Vampire Mk5 Prototype, Mass 195 Metric, Speed 0.0 LM, Call sign ‘Spectre’.
‘Yes!’ Jim exalted. ‘She made it! Thank Randomius…’
The Spectre drifted towards them, coasting a gentle halt, sitting there indolently, its hull lights flashing purposefully.
‘Rebecca?’ Jim called. ‘Can you hear me? Maybe she’s injured. Get us in there – now!’
Scanning beams from the Dark Star flickered over the Spectre.
Coyote’s voice was heavy on the narrowband. ‘No… she’s not there. Escape pod’s been triggered…’
Jim looked up at the Spectre more closely. He could see the rearmost section of the cockpit was indeed missing.
‘Rebecca? Rebecca! No…’
The narrowband comms buzzed for attention.
Identity confirmed. Jim McKenna present. Beginning playback…
The narrowband comes flickered into life. Jim looked in surprise as Rebecca’s face appeared on the video transmission. For a moment hope surged through him, before he realised it was a recording.
‘… hope you get this message, Jim. Thargoids caught me in witch-space. Jump is jammed, I can’t get out. I’m going to eject and then set the Spectre to auto-jump once it’s clear. Jim, you must take this ship to Beenri with the other combateers! Names are Coyote, Derik and Udian… ship IDs are in the text I sent you. Jim, the weapons aboard can end this war. Do not come after me! The Thargoids must not get hold of these weapons or it’s all over, it’s our only chance. Get them to Beenri… Jim…’
Light flashed on the recording, the sound of lasers hitting the shields of the Spectre. Green flashes lit Rebecca’s face from the side. Jim saw her squint in the glare, trying to focus on what she was doing.
Jim could see Rebecca twisting and turning the Spectre, looking for an escape route. He saw her eyes narrow. She’d spotted what she needed. Stars wheeled in the background as she sought to gain enough space to make her move.