Rebel Fleet

by B. V. Larson

“We ought to do something,” Samson told me as we worked to get our fighter back into shape. “This attack can’t go unanswered.”

  “You mean against the turtles, right?” I asked him, working an auto-welder on Hammerhead’s stubby wings.

  “Yeah, of course. If they think they can come at us any time without warning, we’ll never have any peace.”

  “Normally, we’d be in our pods, sleeping safely. We went to sleep without posting a guard on the hangar deck. It was a mistake, made under special circumstances.”

  “Nevertheless, I agree with Samson,” Dr. Chang said in a scratchy voice.

  I switched off the auto-welder and turned to look him over. The medical drone hummed, lifted off and left him behind. As he’d been laid out flat on the deck, he struggled to rise into a sitting position.

  He managed to sit up on his own, but he was still a mess. His head was missing a lot of hair on the left side of his skull above the ear. There was a lump of false-flesh there, which looked like a giant tumor. I knew it would regrow his skin and fall off in time, but it was still hard to look at.

  “You feeling okay, Doc?” I asked him.

  “I’m fine,” he lied.

  “Why should we hit the turtles?” I asked.

  “Because they won’t quit until they either take us down, or they become certain they can’t. They’re not driven by honor or anger—at least, not much. I think they’re just opportunists. The worst kind of opponent to have. They coldly judged we were a ripe target, and they took a shot while we were vulnerable. We have to teach them we’re never going to be a good target.”

  Gwen was listening in now, I could tell. So was Mia. My little tigress wanted blood—but then she always did. She was quivering with excitement at the prospect of another fight. She was also smart enough to let the others make her arguments for her.

  “All right,” I said. “We’ll take care of the turtles.”

  “How?” asked Samson. “When?”

  “Leave that up to me,” I assured him. “You’ll know when it’s time.”

  In truth, I had no plan at all. But I was just as much of an opportunist as the turtles, and I needed my crew to feel like I had things under control.

  After stating my vengeful intentions clearly, the whole group shifted gears. They became instantly happier. They’d been simmering with resentment against the turtles. They wanted revenge, but they trusted me enough to wait.

  A counterattack wasn’t the best road to peace, but we all knew that peace would be difficult to find on this ship. I was in charge, and the members of my crew were my problem. I had to keep their morale up. It wouldn’t do to let them—or anyone else—think we were easy to pick on.

  Time passed in a blur of hard-working days and watchful nights. It was a testimony to how much my crew trusted me that they never demanded to know when we were going to move on the turtles. It was enough for them to know that we eventually would.

  New crews came aboard Killer. They were all from the local planet, survivors of the vicious extermination efforts of the Imperials.

  I wanted to feel sympathy for these new guys, but they were the strangest-looking bunch I’d run into yet.

  They were bug-like—but they were still mammals, I was sure of that. All Kher were mammals no matter what they looked like. Even the Terrapinians produced live-born young rather than laying eggs.

  But these flesh-beetles sure didn’t look like cousins. They had hard brown carapaces that grew over their hunched backs. They were short of limb and powerfully built.

  If anything, they looked like fleshy beetles. It was going to be hard to get used to them, in part because they were so ugly.

  “Hey,” Dalton said, coming to our pit and standing at a respectful distance.

  “Hey Dalton,” I said. “What’s on your mind?”

  Samson and Dalton still socialized now and then, and they both chased the cat-girls whenever they could, with occasional success. But usually, members of rival crews didn’t step into the territory of another group. It was considered a threat, and there was always the chance that such a move might end in violence.

  We all stared at Dalton, even though we knew him well. Maybe because we knew him well.

  “Ra-tikh wanted me to ask you something, Chief.”

  Some might have complained that he wasn’t using my new rank of ensign, but I didn’t mind. The commander of every small boat in the Fleet was called a Chief, regardless of their actual naval rank.

  I watched him for a moment, then nodded and waved him closer.

  He walked right past me and entered Hammerhead without asking permission. I climbed in after him quickly, as did Samson. We both suspected some kind of sabotage.

  Inside the cramped ship, Dalton had stretched himself out on my command chair.

  “Damn, this is pretty nice,” he said. “The kitties next door like it hotter than this, and I have to put up with little tufts of fur everywhere.”

  “Start talking,” I told him, “about something that matters, I mean.”

  “Yeah,” Samson said, “or we’ll kick your ass out of here—and don’t go asking to come back to our crew. We like this crew the way it is.”

  I glanced at Samson. The composition of my crew wasn’t his call to make, but I let it slide this time.

  “It’s like this,” Dalton said, putting his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers and leaning back. “Ra-tikh thinks you make a good sidekick. He’d like to offer you an informal alliance.”

  I frowned. “An alliance? What for?”

  “Against the turtles, or these new skin-beetles. It’s those freaks that gave us the idea. It seems unfair, doesn’t it? They have like six crews of beetles, and we’ve only got one team each of our species.”

  “That’s just because we lost so many crews in the attack,” I said, “but I get your point. An alliance… Unofficial, of course?”

  “That’s right. If you need help, we’ll come to help. If we need your help, we’ll call for you.”

  “Does this go for arena fights as well as random ambushes on the hangar deck?”

  “Yes—but we have to keep that quiet. The other crews will gang-up against us otherwise.”

  After mulling it over, I nodded at last. “I’ll agree. But there’s one detail that must change.”

  “What?”

  “I’m in charge. Ra-tikh is the sidekick.”

  Dalton produced a dirty laugh. “The boss-kitty isn’t going to like that. Why do you think you should be the—?”

  “Because I’m an ensign,” I said firmly. “I’m on the officer training track. Technically, I outrank him.”

  Dalton nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

  He left, and Samson looked after him worriedly.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  “I know Dalton. You can’t really trust him. He’s probably lying about something. He’s got a scheme. He’s always got an angle.”

  “We’ll be careful. So far, our two teams have been helping one another. I see no reason why we shouldn’t keep doing it.”

  Shaking his head, Samson left the interior of the fighter. I went to work on the ventilation. Despite Dalton’s compliments, I thought it was rather stale inside the ship. It must really be rank in his vessel.

  About ten minutes later, I heard some angry noises outside. I ducked my head out of the hatch, and I wasn’t surprised to see Ra-tikh approaching. He looked like someone has stomped on his tail.

  He got close enough to steam up my shirt with his breath before he stopped. Samson stood to my side, but he didn’t make a move. He was like a guard dog these days.

  “What trick are you up to now, monkey?” Ra-tikh asked me. “I don’t like tricks.”

  “Was Dalton lying?” I asked him.

  “About a quiet alliance?” Ra-tikh asked. “No. But you have pressed for advantage already. You make demands as if I were your servant!”

  I shrugged. “No one said you were. We’re just going to back each other u
p. But I’m not going to be your second. You’re my second.”

  I understood by this time that there was no room in Ra-tikh’s furry mind for a co-equal relationship. His species dealt strictly in rigid hierarchies, like a military organization or a pack of wolves.

  “You insult me,” he said. “I’ve been onboard this carrier longer than you have. I’ve defeated many crew chiefs.”

  “This is true, but you’ve never beaten me. I’m beginning to think that what you really wanted was a way to say you had defeated me—without having to actually fight.”

  His eyes flashed dangerously. “You accuse me of dishonor? You accuse me of cowardice?”

  I thought about that and frowned.

  “No,” I said. “I take that back. You wouldn’t play it that way, Ra-tikh. My apologies. Recent events have made me distrustful of others.”

  He relaxed somewhat. “I understand that. The turtles are dishonorable. I don’t know about these flesh-beetles yet, but I think their blood will leave a bad taste when we learn the truth.”

  Calculating he was using an idiom, I nodded in agreement.

  “So,” he continued. “You have apologized. I accept your apology. You are now my second! Be welcome!”

  “Hold on! That’s not going to fly. I’m still the ensign here.”

  He looked me over with narrowed, angry eyes. “Our two crews are more powerful as a team, do you agree?”

  “I agree.”

  “We have proved this twice over, yes?”

  “You are correct.”

  “Then why do you refuse to bow to reason?”

  “It is you who isn’t being reasonable. You asked for this alliance, not me. If you still want it, you can have it. But it will have to be on my terms.”

  He glared at the deck for a time, thinking hard. “What if…” he said thoughtfully, “what if in the future I come to outrank you? Will you become my second then?”

  I thought it over, then nodded. “I would agree to that.”

  His furry paw shot out. I took it, and he pumped it up and down powerfully. Dalton must have taught him this Earth custom.

  “We have a deal,” he said.

  Then he turned around and left me and my crew standing in our pit. I watched him walk away, wondering where all this might lead.

  =27=

  We jumped through the stars again a few days later—and this time, the jump was a long one.

  “All hands, prepare for vortex entry. Nine, eight, seven…”

  We were nervous. We were aboard Hammerhead, strapped in, floating in anti-grav—but we were worried anyway.

  Killer had taken quite a beating in the last battle. Three of her big engines were still off-line, and some of the reactors were pulsing at random intervals.

  Like an old man with the hiccups, we could see and feel the deck as it shivered under our skids. The throbbing power, building up for the jump, was making everything unstable.

  “Do you think she’ll stay together?” Gwen asked.

  “If she doesn’t,” Dr. Chang said, “we’ll be dead so fast we’ll never know what happened.”

  “As usual, that’s very comforting, Doc. Thanks.”

  The throbbing continued building up. We could see—well, I could see using far-flung perception, that the rip in space had appeared before us. This time it spun around slowly, like a vortex in a lazy mood.

  “Hold on,” I said, “we’re going through.”

  Killer vibrated and advanced toward our artificial anomaly. All around us, twenty-odd other carriers did the same.

  “Where are we headed?” Mia asked me.

  I glanced at her. I’d been briefed, but I’d been told not to reveal anything until we got to our destination.

  “To somewhere safe,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile.

  “Liar,” she said.

  She’d come to know me too well. If I thought the truth wouldn’t help and might possibly hurt one of my crewmen, I dispensed with it immediately.

  Fortunately, before she could demand more accurate information, we jumped away from the dull red sun and its planet-full of dead flesh-beetles.

  Soon thereafter, we were someplace new. My perception dawned slowly, expanding my mind and my consciousness.

  The other end of the jump was very different. Two white stars circled one another in a close orbit. They were twins in size, or nearly so. Together, they made the skies brilliant, but not friendly. It was more like looking into an arc-welder’s furnace than a warm winter’s fire.

  Still, our mood shifted to one of relief. We’d all feared we would scatter, given Killer’s poor state of health. But we’d made it through once again.

  There were a large number of planets circling these two suns. They ranged from burnt rocks near the center, to titanic gas giants in the waist and finished up with a crowd of ice-balls in distant orbit.

  “Seventy-one planets!” Gwen said, whistling. “Never seen this many before, especially not in a binary system.”

  “Any ships?” I asked, scanning the feed from our long range sensors.

  My perception system was superior when it came to visualizing local objects, but my crew had access to Killer’s arrays. The powerful instrumentation could provide data I wouldn’t hope to gather by my sym-link’s ability alone.

  “Yes,” Gwen said a few minutes later. “We’ve got ships. I’m glad we didn’t scatter. But I think there are two missing ships in the Fleet.”

  “Two lost? That’s a high rate of attrition.”

  “At least we didn’t get lost,” Samson said, smiling and putting his head back to rest on his chair. “Not this time.”

  I didn’t feel as relieved as he obviously did. We’d lost about ten percent of our force with a simple jump. They might catch back up to us, or they might not. Either way, the loss had weakened our force.

  “More ships are in the system…” Gwen said. “Distant contacts.”

  Craning my neck around to look at her, I frowned. “Enemy?”

  “More are appearing. Thirty—fifty. Different configurations.”

  “Give me coordinates,” I said urgently.

  She tossed them to me virtually, and I used them to lock in, seeking in the right direction with my sym.

  A few seconds later, I saw the gathering force. There had to be over a hundred now.

  “They’re popping in close to the farther of the two white suns,” I said. “They look like our ships—but I can’t tell from here.”

  “Ask Shaw,” Mia said.

  I looked at her.

  “Please?” she asked.

  Her face had to contort to pronounce the word. I’d learned that her people didn’t have an equivalent term in their language. Without the translator, she’d had to force her lips to form the unfamiliar sound.

  “All right,” I said, opening a channel to Shaw.

  It was a breach of protocol, but a small one. At least I was an ensign now, no longer a snot-nosed rookie pilot.

  “Blake?” he responded. “What is it? I’m busy.”

  “We’ve detected a large force near the farther of the suns, Lieutenant. Can you confirm they’re friendly?”

  He chuckled. “Spoiling for another fight, eh?” he said, completely missing my mood and intent. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint. They’re ours. Stand down your engines and your wasps. You’ll have to wait until some Imperials show up.”

  He closed the channel, and I closed my eyes in a moment of silent prayer.

  “We’re in the clear. Those are Rebel ships out there.”

  “So many?” Mia said. “I didn’t know we had such strength. I’m pleased with you.”

  She rubbed her tail over my legs, and I knew what that meant. If I could get a moment alone with her, she’d make it worth my while.

  Gwen glanced at us in disgust. She’d never quite gotten over the idea that I’d struck up a sexual relationship with a non-human. Fortunately, her distress had no effect on Mia or myself.

  “How long
do we have to sit in this tin can, then?” she asked.

  “Less than an hour, I’m sure.”

  “Good.”

  As it turned out, all the alarms and alerts were cancelled within minutes. We switched off the anti-grav, exited the fighter and stretched on the hangar deck.

  “Kind of a letdown,” Mia complained. “I’m bored now.”

  She walked away, running her tail over my suit as she passed by, as if by accident.

  I followed her a few moments later, telling the others to take a break. Samson grinned at me, Dr. Chang studied his instruments, and Gwen coldly minded some unnecessary task to occupy herself.

  I ignored them all and found a quiet spot to commune with Mia. She was hot and quick to get down to the action. She kissed me because she knew I liked it, and I stroked her fur because I knew she liked it. She knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to stop until she got it. I was happy to help.

  Well into our distracted interlude, a figure loomed nearby. Startled, I turned to face this new threat.

  My immediate impression was that I was looking at a turtle. The biggest of them, their leader. But that wasn’t the case. My mind had filled in the blanks in the shadows of pipes and dripping conduits.

  “Lieutenant Shaw,” I said. “How nice of you to come find me in person. Is your communication unit switched off?”

  He took a step closer, looking around in a conspiratorial fashion.

  “I can’t believe this is how you spend your precious few moments.”

  “Phht!” she said, making a sound in her own language that defied interpretation. “You came here to spy on us.”

  “Hardly,” he said. “I hope you’re finished copulating because I need to speak privately to Ensign Blake.”

  Mia wormed up against me defiantly. “What if we aren’t?”

  Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I gently guided her away from me as my uniform restored itself fully to dressed condition.

  “We’re finished discussing that private matter until later, Mia,” I said to her.

  Mia got the hint and sprang away. She was ruffled, but I knew she’d get over it quickly. She was like that, quick to anger and just as fast to forget.

  “Blake,” Shaw said, “we have a problem.”