“Aarlan Smith wasn’t escorting the convoy back to the Empire homeworld of Wecarro,” Mia began, “but was rather being escorted back because of the critical information he carried.” Kelsoe felt her stomach knot and she ignored the squawk that came out of G’Fleuf’s speaker. “For the past few years Aarlan and I have been creeping around the Vonuborg Empire gathering intelligence. Three months ago Aarlan discovered that the Vonuborg;” a picture appeared on the view screen of a tall being. Kelsoe shrank back in her chair involuntarily. Bilaterally symmetrical with two arms, two legs, two eyes and two holes that appeared to be ear openings, the creature stood nearly seven feet tall, with a hard ridge of bone running from the beaklike nose over the top of the head and back to the nape of the neck. The eyes were large, dark and merciless and the leathery skin that covered all surfaces not covered in armor was a deep purple, “had launched an Armada in this direction with the intention of cleansing the galaxy of the human menace—which is surprising since the Vonuborg themselves are much more dangerous. On their homeworld they live in large clans on separate islands, the largest island holding the strongest clan. As a race they have a stupendously high tech rate, to the point where it is possible to simply mass produce most space ships. They have a strong military standing in the galaxy, having just fought a long bloody war for revenge against their once friends the Tumerizi, wiping out every adult and child of that unfortunate race and scorching the homeworld, and every Tumerizi colony planet to the bedrock. It actually turns out that it was the Vonuborg fear of what the Tumerizi might become that drove them to genocide. We’ve been burning space ever since to reach Wecarro before the Armada, since they were planning on dropping out of jump space a full month from Wecarro, and approaching quietly and slowly.”
G’Fluef nodded in agreement. “A full Fleet punching out of jump space closer to Wecarro would have raised alarms across this arm of the galaxy.” He explained carefully.
“Now,” Mia continued, “just when we manage to get a little lead on the alien ships, the convoy gets waylaid by a bunch of pirates and destroyed.” There was a very pregnant silence.
“What?” Kelsoe blurted. “What am I supposed to do? Take up where my supposed father left off?”
“He was your father.” The small Drugud injected helpfully. “Even your altered DNA is the same.”
“So you say.” Kelsoe snarled angrily. “But that really doesn’t help much.” She turned to look at the tentacled creature. “You’re the only family I’ve ever had.”
“Like it or not, you have a very large family, Kelsoe.” Mia continued relentlessly. “History may indicate that you have lost your mother and your father, but Empire records show that you have aunts and uncles by the score, as well as nephews and nieces. There are family retainers that have been loyal to the Smith family for hundreds of years.”
“So what? What are they to me but a bunch of names? They never rescued me.” She snorted. “G’Fleuf did that. I’m fifteen years old. I have to start looking out for myself.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and assumed a self-satisfied pose. The silence stretched and the equipment hummed. “What the hell can I do?” She snarled, glaring at the approaching Fleet in the view screen. The glare turned into a frown. “How many ships are in the approaching Vonuborg Armada?”
“Three hundred and eighteen.” Mia replied without hesitation.
Kelsoe nibbled on one of her already ragged fingernails as sweat trickled in a cold rivulet down the middle of her back. “If the Fleet Task Force were to bump heads with the Vonuborg Armada, would that slow the advance down enough for us to get to Wecarro and sound a warning?”
“The Task Force doesn’t have enough ships to stop the Armada.” Mia commented critically.
Kelsoe smiled. “I didn’t say ‘stop’. I said ‘slow down’. If the admiral or general or whoever is in charge is on the ball, he will withdraw immediately, shadow the Armada and snap at its heels.”
Mia thought for a moment. “It will be close, but the Armada should be slowed enough for us to reach Wecarro…maybe.”
Kelsoe frowned. “You’re just full of good news. Is there some way I can contact the Fleet once I reach Wecarro?”
Mia replied more slowly this time. “Aarlan mentioned once, several years back that there was an FTL Transceiver in the Royal Residence on Wecarro, right in his office. DNA locked, you should have no problem gaining entry to send an encrypted message. I can help with the appropriate encryptions and format to make it look like your father. He entrusted the entire encryption key to me in case the Vector did something unpredictable to his memory.”
Kelsoe shut her eyes. “I never wanted to go to Wecarro, for any reason at all.” She complained. “My life’s goal was simply to escape from the Wrecker’s Moon on a ship… any ship. I’m not the heroine of a cheap novel.” She opened her eyes and glared at the console before her. “Why me?”
“You, Kelsoe Sheehera Smith,” the AI murmured without a trace of humor, “like it or not are the reigning Primus of the Staarkand Empire.” Kelsoe groaned. “Without your assistance the Vonuborg Armada will fall on human space like a wave, washing away everything before it, including the Smith family. Only you can recall the Fleet in time to save Wecarro.”
Kelsoe felt like throwing up, and her future that moments ago had seemed so bright now looked bleaker than ever. “Fine. I’ll go to Wecarro and get the Fleet recalled, but that’s it… understand?”
“Of course.” Both Mia and G’Fleuf said at exactly the same moment.
Chapter 4
THE SMITH FAMILY
Kelsoe sat with her arms crossed and glared at the impending battle of Wrecker’s Moon on the view screen. Other than the very faint hum of equipment, the bridge was silent.
“Ahem!” Although he didn’t have a throat to clear, per-say, G’Fleuf had long ago mastered the sound when he wanted to politely get Kelsoe’s attention. The young woman raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. “That was a wonderful little speech, Kelsoe, but how do you plan on getting the Task Force to engage the Vonuborg Armada?”
Her grey eyes sparkled with a mischievous fire. “I’ll use the same technique you showed me when someone was after me back at the Den.” She returned smugly. “I’ll get them to chase me blindly, without thinking. I’ll tease them, and infuriate them so much that our Task Force will follow me without considering where I might be leading them; right into the teeth of the approaching Armada. They won’t have an option but to fight at that point, and we can slip quietly away.”
“A lot of good people are going to die in your plan, young lady.” G’Fleuf pointed out grimly.
Kelsoe turned to look at him. “I could call the Task Force if you wish, and try to reason with them. I’m sure that they would take my word on it, a fifteen year old orphan girl in a stolen ship, and go shooting off to fight an epic space battle at eleven to one odds.” The noise that came out of the small speaker on the Drugud’s neck was very like a growl. “I’m glad you see my point of view.” She replied sweetly, but with an edge of steel in her voice.
“Perhaps…” Mia began in a hesitant voice, “we should reconsider inflicting this young hellion on a poor unsuspecting universe.”
“The horse is already out of the gate and beyond our recall.” G’Fleuf replied with a long despairing sigh that sounded like the last gasp of some cheap radio. Despite her best intentions, a smile tugged the corners of Kelsoe’s lips.
“This is what we’re going to do, Mia.” It was the ship’s AI that groaned this time. “We are going to sit here and watch the show. When the Fleet draws closer and slows to begin Search and Rescue we will strafe the assembled ships. I want it to look like we are trying very hard to hit them, when in fact we are trying very hard NOT to hit them. I want to rattle their teeth.” Kelsoe’s grin was fierce.
The Drugud leaned forward in his seat, his tentacles tapping nervously on the armrest. “Would you happen to have any seismic survey markers aboard, like the ones first-in teams u
se to mark rocks for demolition, or the floating chunks of asteroids for gunnery practice?”
“I have ones that are filled with either black or red paint.” Mia’s voice was filled with dismay.
“Those are the ones!” G’Fleuf sounded delighted. “We’ll use those as an opening salvo, and make sure that you shoot for their exterior cameras. They are going to go insane with anger!”
Kelsoe couldn’t help but laugh now. “Right up to the point where they look carefully at what we are doing. Then they’re going to smell a rat.”
“Do we have a choice?” Mia asked solemnly.
“Not without killing more innocent spacers.” Kelsoe replied in a quiet voice.
“I’ve fallen in with a pack of scoundrels.” G’Fleuf grumbled. “If this ship is as stealthy as you claim, Mia, you should make sure that the Fleet can get at least a few glimpses of you. If you don’t they might go shooting off in the wrong direction.”
Somewhere in the back of Kelsoe’s mind something snorted a laugh, and she frowned as a sudden chill touched her spine.
On the view screen Kelsoe and G’Fleuf watched the battle begin. The opening shot fired by the Task Force was a full dozen space superiority interceptors sent out toward the waiting moon, rushing off in advance of the approaching heavier warships. The wrecker’s response was to be expected; ships shot out of the moon like cockroaches fleeing a bright light.
“There goes the boss’s ship!” G’Fleuf murmured, touching Kelsoe’s arm with a rubbery tentacle. The ship in question, a sleek Kormanian fifty man courier class ship in burnished silver streaked up from the surface, quickly outdistancing the interceptor pursuit.
“The ship is engaging her jump drive.” Mia commented quietly. “Those Kormanian ships are quite fast. We won’t see that vessel again.”
Kelsoe bit her tongue. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Mia.” The ship flickered forward a few miles, staggered and began to drift in a nose to tail tumble.
“The drive systems on the Kormanian ship are dead.” Mia said in some disbelief. “My sensors indicate a fire in their engineering section. They have activated a distress beacon. I…” Whatever Mia was about to say was interrupted by a sun-bright, but poorly aimed shaft of coherent light that lanced up from the surface of the moon, missing both small and large warships by miles. “Anti-ship laser!” The AI sounded shocked. The small interceptors were busily mopping up the fleeing wreckers with well-placed shots to the drives, when the larger Task Force elements began to pull into orbit about the moon. A second laser reached out from the surface to touch the stern of a large destroyer. Even from this distance Kelsoe could see the explosion of gasses.
“Are they dead?” She asked, horrified at the thought of the ship dying before her.
“No.” Mia replied after a moment’s pause. “They are damaged but with the typical military redundant systems, they can set down on the moon to make repairs. Look, here comes a cruiser. The moon base is done now.”
A full mile long, the black cruiser was heavy and ominous as it slid relentlessly over the moon like the cloud of doom. “Surrender at once in the name of the Empire!” A stern military voice called out over the speaker, making Kelsoe jump with the all-bands broadcast. Twin beams reached up from the surface in way of reply, hit the hull of the cruiser amidships and flashed into a coruscating burst of light as they struck the strong shields of the warship. When the light disappeared the cruiser was still there…undamaged. A volley of surface to orbit missiles leapt at the cruiser, to the same effect.
“What’s he waiting for?” Kelsoe asked in a small voice. Her question was answered an instant later when a massive battlecruiser, half again as long as the cruiser, came to a stop over the moon base. A fresh volley of missiles and beams from the Wrecker’s Moon was abruptly cut off when the battlecruiser opened fire with one massive barrage. The view screens flickered off for a moment in the intense glare, and came back on as they reset. The crater that had been home to Kelsoe since she was born was gone. Where there had been a cluster of interconnected ships housing hundreds, now there was a new crater filled with glowing molten rock, burned right down to the bedrock. Kelsoe stared at the scene before her in disbelief. Her home for the last fifteen years of her life was gone! She shook her head, and with shaking hands reminded herself of the job at hand.
“The rest of the Task Force has arrived, and it appears that they are about to begin SAR operations.” Mia reminded Kelsoe.
“Have you gotten enough targeting information for an attack run?” Kelsoe asked, regretting that she’d ever made the suggestion.
“More than enough, Captain. Searching my inventory, I found a few green, white and blue paint missiles to add to the mix.” When Kelsoe frowned, she continued. “I said missile instead of rocket, because the devices I will use will need to be guided, rather than just ballistic.”
“We’ll be infamous!” G’Fleuf murmured out of his tinny speaker. “Think of it!”
“I’d rather not.” Kelsoe rumbled. “Go ahead and begin your attack run when you are ready, Mia, and at the optimum time lead our friends out to meet the Armada.”
“Thank you.” Mia replied, and then more thoughtfully. “You and your father are unique individuals, and it is my distinct pleasure to serve with you.”
“Serve?” The young woman couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Just drive the bus, Mia.” Kelsoe urged. “You certainly are NOT a servant!” She swallowed a last giggle. “Partner yes, servant no.”
“Yes Ma’am.” The saucer slid silently and invisibly out of her hiding place, accelerating smoothly as she began to stalk her prey.
“There!” Mia exclaimed as they drew closer. “That frigate,” one of the ships on the screen lit with a targeting carat, “will be my first prey. I’ll take out his stern sensor suite with one…”
“No!” Kelsoe interrupted. “Leave his sensors alone. He will be going onto a real battle soon enough, and will need them. I know enough about sensors to know that if you shoot close by it will make him need to reset his systems, but don’t damage them.”
“It’s harder this way, you know.” Mia grouched.
“Would you like me to do it?” Kelsoe asked sweetly, her ocular HUD and AI already locating the appropriate fire control systems in the ship and feeding her the targeting information, as they were designed to do in the first place.
“A human use the weapons on this ship??? Not bloody likely!” Mia humphed.
Kelsoe Rolled her eyes, and wondered to herself how she’d ever been fated to draw such a prima donna as ship’s AI. Leaning forward in her seat, she never imagined the sheer bedlam that was going to ensue when Mia finally began her attack run. The first pass she simply ghosted through the orbiting ships, dropping unmoving missiles filled with paint, their tiny power plants dialed down to minimum settings, to wait in space for the GO command, navigation systems already locked on their targets. That command came when the Wyvern turned to begin her second pass and fired her first sensor dazzling shot. The Fleet was instantly transformed from a deadly looking strike force to what looked to Kelsoe like a circus traveling between the stars. Every ship bore splatters of black, red, blue, white and brilliant green. Point blank detonations scrambled the Task Force sensors, and the biggest worry for the small saucer wasn’t getting shot, but getting run over by the wildly maneuvering vessels. Kelsoe laughed aloud when a small frigate glanced off the hull of the battlecruiser, which in turn rebounded into the side of the cruiser. On the third firing run things got even crazier. One of the three remaining destroyers dipped away from the madness toward the moon, and just pulled up in time to avoid a crash. On the ship to ship frequencies they could hear the fighter pilots, sitting a safe distance away, floating in space, laughing and taking bets on who would bump into who next in wildly milling Task Force.
“Mia.” Kelsoe said, staring at the screen. “Bracket those interceptors with a brace of missiles, and let us be seen for a moment. Then head for the Armada. I think we’ve had enough
fun here, and our friends in the Task Force probably have splitting headaches.”
“I was about to suggest the very thing. How close do you want the shots to those fighters?”
Kelsoe smiled. “Singe their tail feathers, and we’ll see who has the last laugh.” The screen flared with the shots, and then the Wyvern was turning and accelerating rapidly out of the system. “Did you let them see us?” The tactical display still showed massive confusion behind them as the Wrecker’s Moon fell further and further behind.
“Our cloaking was off for a total of three seconds and that should be good enough. Two of the destroyers are powering up their drives, Captain.” Mia observed in a slightly bored tone. “It’s about time.” She paused. “The third destroyer is pulling away from the moon and is pushing hard to catch up with the other two. I was worried for a moment that we were going to have to slow down even more.”
Kelsoe grinned. “Show off. How long until we reach the Vonuborg Armada?”
“At this speed,” Mia replied slowly, “we should just be at the edge of their detector range in eight days.”
Kelsoe stood from the command chair and stretched. “In that case, I am going to take a shower, we do have a shower don’t we, have something to eat and then sleep, unless there is something I should attend to.”
Mia let out a low laugh. “There is a shower in the hallway, just past the berths on the lower level and no Captain, the situation is well in hand. Long range scanners indicate that the rest of the Task Force, those not directly involved in SAR or recovery of the wreckers, is turning to pursue us. Have a pleasant sleep.”
“Good night, Kelsoe.” G’Fleuf murmured as she left the command deck. She gave him a quick wink.
~~~
G’Fleuf joined her in the small wardroom that also doubled as a galley, sick bay and general off duty space for the saucer crew when they were fully manned; settling down at the table with a bowl full of squirming blue Octanian Noodle Worms, covered in a mauve Grkkk sauce. He slurped down a long, still wiggling worm and then daintily wiped the sauce from his beak where it had splashed, sighing in contentment. “This trip has suddenly become much more bearable.” The tinny voice from his speaker nearly hummed in pleasure. “Octanian Noodle Worms are my favorite dish. I haven’t had them since I left Wecarro.” He set his spork down and gave Kelsoe a quick look. “I didn’t mean to bring up a painful subject, Kelsoe.” He apologized.
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