by T. R. Harris
“I’m going to blast right through while Ryan ejects the modules. He’s set the linking units to lead the way. He says that the others will be drawn to them. We shouldn’t even have to stop.”
“Good,” Robert said as he watched the huge red star sweep past them to starboard. The base was only about five minutes ahead. “I’m not seeing any sentries,” he said, glancing down at the proximity screen.
“Yeah, seems kind of quiet, doesn’t it?”
Both men wore heavily furrowed foreheads as they neared the location of the base. The Kai Shek sped into the very heart of the conglomeration of space stations, space docks and anchored ships, only to find that the massive fleet of fifty four-masters was gone. Robert leaned over closer to the prox screen and moved the field of view out to the max. There was no mistaking it; the fleet wasn’t there.
Drake slammed his fist down on the armrest of his command chair. The comm beeped.
“Drake here, belay the drop. I repeat, belay the drop. The fleet is gone. Ryan, get those things packed up again as soon as possible before they start forming up in my cargo hold.”
“The fleet’s already left?” was Ryan Grossman’s trembling voice reply. “What are we going to do now?”
Drake looked over at Robert. “Good question,” he said.
“Let’s get back to base,” Robert said. “Maybe I can try contacting someone else on Earth, possibly the media stations.”
“Good idea,” Drake said sarcastically. “They’ll love a story like that. Earth to be destroyed in twelve days, film at eleven. And now for the latest baseball scores.”
*****
THEY picked up the first distress calls once they were within ten light-years of home base. The chatter was confusing, until one came in clear and asked for the Kai Shek to tune to channel seven for a secure link. Robert knew he wasn’t to open channel seven directly, but rather the seventh coded frequency in the emergency response protocols his fleet had established months before.
When the screen brightened, the gaunt face of Lieutenant Sean Sinclair was looking back at him.
“The base has been attacked,” he reported without preamble. “Damage is extensive and the fleet—what’s left of it—has been scattered.”
“How the hell did the Vixx’r find us?” Robert asked through gritted teeth.
“It wasn’t the Vixxie, Captain; it was a Human fleet.”
Robert’s face went white and he sought out the edge of Bondel Drake’s command chair for support.
“Where’s the Malicious now, Sean?” Kincaid asked after his voice returned.
“We’re out near Jarvis Four. Pretty sure we’re safe—at least for now.”
“Do you know what happened to Claudia?” Drake asked. Sad resignation was thick in his voice.
“She’s with us, Captain Drake. She was aboard trying to hustle some extra plasma boomers for the Kai Shek when the attack began.”
“That’s really good news, Sean.” Drake fixed his angry eyes on Kincaid. “So that bastard Patel has done a complete sellout. He’s not only arrested Simms and taken over the UPE, but now he’s using Human forces to attack us.”
Robert nodded. “And the Revenge? She was due back right about now. Any news about her?”
Robert could see the shift in Sinclair’s eyes, refusing to meet those of his captain.
“What’s happened?”
“They did a real number on her, Captain. The last we saw, she was drifting dead in the water near Lofton Rock, at the edge of the asteroid belt.”
“Javon?”
Sinclair shook his head. “We heard him give an abandon ship order. That was the last we heard from him. And Captain—”
“What?”
“The Humans left the ship there…and now the Vixxie have moved in. When we bugged out of the area they were making target practice out of the survivors who had managed to get off the ship. I had to turn off the distress comms because of all the screaming.”
“And Joanne?”
Again Sean shook his head. “She was at the base and anyone left there is now dead. The place is a nuclear wasteland.”
“I have the location of the Revenge,” Drake reported. Robert looked into his eyes and saw a seething fire burning within.
“Sean, maintain your position. It’s imperative that you keep the Malicious safe. Drake and I will go see what we can do about stopping the slaughter of the Revenge survivors.”
“What are we going to do now, Captain?” Lt. Sean Sinclair asked. “The base is destroyed, the fleet decimated and now we have Humans hunting us, too.”
“I have an idea…and you’ll know if it works when it works. If not…well it really won’t matter much what happens after that.”
*****
TWO small Vixxie destroyers meandered throughout the debris field that had once been the dreadnaught Revenge. As the Kai Shek came into visual range, those on the bridge could see the two small ships sending out thin laser beams at minute targets, one here, one there. These were people in escape suits they were targeting, their friends and crewmates now drifting helplessly in space, waiting for a salvation that would never come.
Kincaid had taken over the weapon’s station of the Kai Shek while Ryan Grossman monitored the tac screens. Drake, seated in the pilot’s chair, didn’t hesitate to enter the fray; he barreled into the debris field at a reckless speed and directly at the nearest Vixx’r ship.
The destroyer barely had time to react before Robert expertly laid four plasma shells into the hull of the gray vessel. Drake was instantly off after the other one. The destroyer turned to flee after witnessing the demise of its sister ship, but the Kai Shek was too swift. Within seconds, both alien warcraft were now history.
“Nothing, Captain,” Ryan Grossman said. “I’m not picking up any remaining distress signals.”
“They may have them turned off to keep the Vixxie from tracking the signals,” Robert offered.
“Let’s hope so, but it’s been eight hours since the attack. Don’t know how many more there—”
The comm speaker suddenly crackled to life. “Dammit, be careful or you’ll run right over me!”
“Get a lock on that signal!” Drake ordered.
“To starboard…no, now behind us. We just passed it.”
“I always thought your ship was an ugly cuss, Drake,” said the voice over the speakers. “But right now I have to say it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Javon!” Robert cried out.
“Aye, Captain, and none the worse for wear, although that destroyer was about to home in on my mass reading.”
“What about the rest of your crew?”
“I’ve been keeping track as best I could, and I think I’m the last. You do know it was Humans doing the attacking?”
“We’ve been told. Sinclair got the Malicious away in time, but it’s not looking good for the rest of the fleet.”
“Why are Humans attacking us? I thought we were on the same side?”
“The situation has become a lot more complicated, Mr. Steele.”
“Did you stop the Vixxie fleet?”
“They’d already left by the time we got there.”
“Now I know what you mean about things becoming more complicated. What are we going to do now?”
“You’re the second person in an hour to ask me that question. Well first things first—stand by for pick-up.” Robert Kincaid looked into the fiery eyes of Bondel Drake. “After that, I think we’re about to take a long journey to a place most of us have never seen, with the express purpose of trying to save it from total destruction.”
“You’ll have to excuse my crassness, Captain,” said the disenfranchised voice of Javon Steele, “but right about now I say let the place burn.”
“If it didn’t mean leaving the aliens in power, I’d agree with you Commander. But someone has to save the Human race from itself, and it might as well be this ragtag group of miscreants and misfits.”
22<
br />
“You’re sure this bucket can make it all the way to Earth?” Javon Steele asked. It was obvious from his tone that he had his doubts.
“We do have a pretty big load, but yeah,” Drake answered. “We will have to stop off in the Midlands for refueling, and after that we’ll be sucking fumes by the time we reach Sol System. But she can make it.”
“I doubt we’re going to be welcomed either place, Mr. Drake,” Robert Kincaid said. “It’s obvious from the wave crest following us that the fleet knows we survived and where we’re headed. And we certainly can’t outrun warp-channel comm links.”
“I’ve already made contact with some of my friends in the Midlands who will help get us what we need,” Drake said. “But the trick will be getting past any blockades set up to stop us.”
“I can’t help you with that,” Robert said. “I’m out of my element anywhere beyond the Reaches. We might as well be in Andromeda for all I can tell.”
Drake smiled. “You’re in good hands, Captain. Remember, I’m from the Midlands, and I’ve also spent my share of time in Earth Space as well.”
Robert raised a pointed eyebrow. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you, Mr. Drake?”
“An Interstellar Man of Mystery they call me.” And then the smile vanished from his face. “With all seriousness, we’re heading for a region of space that has been at war with the Vixxie for over six years, and it’s teeming with warships from both sides. I’ve made the arrangements for the fuel drop, but we may have to fight our way out—and that could mean killing fellow Humans. Are you prepared for that?”
“Considering the consequences if we fail, I believe that’s a tradeoff I’m willing to accept.”
“Good. I just don’t want you going soft on me, if and when the time comes.”
“That time could be now, Mr. Drake,” said Javon Steele. “We’re nearing the end of the Rylan Tramline, and you said this is where we get off. I’m already detecting a boatload of gravity signatures hovering around the fringes.”
“Another thirty minutes, Mr. Steele. A fuel pod is waiting for us, so it’s just a matter of ducking in and then back out. Our destination is Elesisa.”
“Which planet?” Steele asked. “I see here that there are three inhabited planets in the system.”
“Not a planet, Mr. Steele, the star. We’re heading for the star itself.”
Robert narrowed his focus on Drake and his wry smile. “I hope you know what you’re doing. A star isn’t something to be trifled with.”
“That’s the idea, Mr. Kincaid. Barreling into the corona of a star is the last thing the bastards will expect us to do.”
Steele cleared his throat. “Let’s just make sure they aren’t correct—and it doesn’t become the last thing any of us do.”
*****
AS interstellar tramlines approach stellar systems they narrow precipitously, making exiting from them unseen a difficult proposition. Enemies can lie in wait near the edges and be within striking range in a matter of minutes from any of the more established exit points. Bondel Drake, however, wasn’t using a conventional point. Instead, he’d identified a spot right near the edge of the star’s deadly corona. In reality, a star’s corona extends for many millions of miles beyond the visible glow, carried away by the stellar wind, yet it was the region close to the star that posed the greatest threat, even with modern ship shielding. Approaching anywhere near the visible corona was considered risky, if not downright stupid. Depending on speed of transit, a vessel could maintain heat and radiation integrity no more than minutes before suffering deadly consequences.
Drake had informed the small crew that his secret contact in the Elesisa star system had hidden a cache of fuel rods within the blinding glare of the ejecta, secure in a heavily-shielded pod. Stopping to load the rods would be suicide, as that would mean a prolonged and deadly exposure to the corona. Instead, they would attempt to snare the pod with magnetic grapples as they sped by, relying on the extra protection provided by the thin neutron bubble created by the engines. It wouldn’t last long, not with the violent stellar wind constantly stripping away the particles, yet it should add nearly a minute to their critical exposure time.
“We’ve done this before,” Robert said to a skeptical Javon Steele.
“Yeah, but that was in the Malicious. The anchor aboard this tub is a fraction of the size, and we’re going to be asking it to do twice the work. And besides, we weren’t swinging into a star’s corona, if I recall.”
Drake was off the bridge, having gone to the aft aux control to prepare the anchor.
“I can see what Drake’s trying to do,” Robert said. “If he can set the anchor far enough out, then we’ll swing along on an arc and snag the pod as we sweep by. That way we can keep all the power in the shields and not the engines. Once we do circle back out of the corona, we’ll still need a massive burst of energy to escape the star’s gravitation.”
“You know we’ll be passing the pod at about four million miles per hour. It will be a miracle if we hook it.”
“Knowing Bondel, I don’t think he would be trying this if he didn’t think he could do it. The man has too good of an imagination not to have already visualized every worst-case scenario, and he’s still willing to try.”
Javon Steele shook his head. “I have a pretty good imagination, too, especially when it comes to worst-case scenarios. In fact, that’s all I’m seeing right about now.”
Robert smiled. “Relax, Mr. Steele. If Drake’s plan doesn’t work then you and me—and everyone else aboard—won’t have a thing to worry about after that.”
“That’s because we’ll be toast—literally.”
*****
SEVENTEEN Human and nine Vixx’r starships waited for them along the Rylan Tramline, all armed and ready. They were, however, unprepared for the Kai Shek to emerge four million miles from the first established exit point in the tramline.
Operators aboard the waiting ships quickly checked their charts and found the obscure data marker right next to the star Elesisa. The closest units opened fire anyway, sending long-range missiles screaming on a course that appeared to head straight into the star itself. Radiation, heat and intense magnetic fields wreaked havoc with missile guidance systems. Gunner personnel would be reacting on both Human and Vixx’r ships, attempting to compensate for the interference and guide them to their target. They continued firing into the space near to the star, hoping for a hit. Pilots began maneuvering closer in to the fiery corona.
“Mr. Steele, set the anchor line out to max and prepare to drop,” Drake ordered. “I’m seeing the pod out there, just within the first layer. Robert, it will be your job to snag the pod as we swing by.”
“What do you want me to do?” Ryan Grossman asked. Besides being an amateur scientist within the pirate fraternity, Grossman had also served as tactical officer aboard the Malicious, monitoring the various attack and defensive screens.
“The ships of the blockade will be closing on us fast, so I need you to keep us up-to-date as to their location. Once we grab the pod, we’ll be swinging back out and right into their line of fire. I’m going to be tied up trying to keep the ship from plowing into the star so I won’t be able to do much evasive maneuvering unless you tell me where to go.”
“Roger that, Mr. Drake. I’m on it.”
“Good man. Now ready, Javon. Once you drop, we’re going to have a good minute before we reach the end of the anchor line, but when we do, it’ll be quite the jolt. Everyone make sure your harnesses are secure.”
The four men on the bridge of the Kai Shek cinched down their straps and took deep breaths. The next five minutes were going to be hairy, and they all knew it. Swinging in through the corona of a star at four million miles per hour wasn’t something you woke up in the morning looking forward to doing, but it was at least a good substitute for a strong cup of coffee.
“On my mark, Mr. Steele. Three, two, one…mark!”
Nothing exceptional occurred
when Javon Steele released the anchor. The anchor of an interstellar starship wasn’t a traditional anchor in any sense of the word, but its effect was essentially the same. In reality it was a secondary neutron drive, programmed to maintain a stationery position against even the strongest currents. The magnetic line attached to the Kai Shek would play out until the desired distance was reached, and then the engines would fire. The tiny ship would then be tethered at the end of an invisible chain six hundred thousand miles long.
The maximum anchor length was reached in eight-point-five minutes. Robert had done this maneuver before in the Malicious so he knew more-or-less what to expect. Or so he thought so. The difference was the size of the vessels and the give in the lines. With the much larger Malicious, the jolt was milder, as the anchor engine fought against the counter mass with a little movement on both sides. Not so with the Kai Shek. The forward momentum of the little craft came to an abrupt halt at the end of the chain and the ship’s inertial compensators immediately lost the contest against simple Newtonian physics. The ship swung in a short arc. With the anchor bay set immediately forward of the ship, Robert was pushed hard down into his seat and the air was pressed from his lungs. Robert estimated he was experiencing close to nine-g’s in the instant the anchor line grew taunt. He knew the pressure would soon return to normal—it had to, otherwise it would be impossible for him to do anything other than black out.
When the compensators—as well as their trajectory—replaced the body-crushing pressure of the stop, Robert could see the huge star sweeping ever closer on the monitor in front of him. With the ship tail-end to Elesisa, he could see the fuel pod marked with a flashing beacon on his screen. It would have been impossible to find it against the brilliance of the star.
“We’re arcing in,” Drake cried out, “it’s going to get warm!”