Deagth ship quest

by William Zellmann

  Jane grinned. “Nobody would make up a story like that, especially a military organization! Punching out an Admiral? I mean, really!” She turned an old-fashioned glare on Kas. “I wouldn’t put it past him to do it, either!”

  Tarn chuckled. “I wouldn’t, either. After all, I’ve known him for over ten years. How about it, Kas? Did you really do that, or is it just your cover story?”

  Kas shrugged. “I imagine you’ll know in a few minutes. That’s what your Lieutenant’s doing, isn’t it? Checking out my story? I figure you must have someone on board your ship that’s recently returned from the Empire.”

  Tarn's smile was sincere. “Of course. One of my officers returned six months ago from detached duty on Prime.” He shrugged. “In the meantime, let’s take care of business. Who issued that charter, and where is this colony they’re establishing?”

  Uh oh, Kas thought, here we go. He shrugged and slid Starhopper ’s papers across his desk. “The colony’s on a planet called Turow’s World. The Charter was issued by Farterra.”

  Tarn frowned. “Farterra’s not establishing any colonies. They can’t even keep their home world solvent.” He was leafing through the documents.

  Kas shrugged. “So Lady Jane tells me. I figure they experienced a communications lag. Their trade representatives on Prime issued the charter before they heard about Farterra’s economic collapse. By the time they heard it was too late.”

  Tarn nodded. “Possibly. So where does that leave you?”

  Kas shrugged again. “Depends. If you don’t delay me too much and I can make my delivery on schedule, it makes no difference. The balance of the charter is in escrow on Prime. Of course if I don’t make it on time, I imagine they’d be eager to impose the delivery penalties set out in my charter. If you really held me up, I could end up losing Starhopper. So, while I’m glad to see you, you’ll understand if I tell you to quit wasting time and let me go! I just wanted to recal in your damned system, not take up residence!”

  Tarn leaned forward with a grin, resting his elbows on Kas' desk. “We’ll see. But there’s too much at stake to just turn you loose for old times’ sake!”

  Kas frowned. “There you go again! What’s going on, Tarn? What’s the Empire got up to since I’ve left that’s got the Alliance so excited?”

  Tarn’s grin didn’t fade, but his gaze was piercing. “It’s the Vir Rekesh.”

  Kas frowned. “The Vir… Oh, that old battle cruiser? The one that disappeared?”

  Tarn nodded. “She’s been found, and the people that found her took her coordinates to the Imperial Fleet. Everyone in this area of space is on a scavenger hunt for her. Funny though, the Empire hasn’t asked anyone for permission to cross their space to get her. That means they’ll be sending undercover agents. People like you, for instance.”

  Kas snorted. “Right!” He said with broad sarcasm, “I’m so good at that cloak and dagger stuff!”

  Tarn laughed aloud. “I admit you make an unlikely spy. You’re more the ‘Damn the torpedoes, Full speed ahead’ type.” He sobered. “But maybe Pankin was more interested in a shiphandler and battle skipper than a cloak-and-dagger type. Let’s see what Lieutenant Trensa finds out, shall we?”

  Kas shrugged with feigned indifference. “So, what are you doing running a corvette around a remote system? Did you punch out an Admiral, too?”

  Tarn put on a theatrically wounded look. “I beg your pardon! I’ve been promoted! I’m the CO of To-Han Base. You know how people at remote bases tend to get stale? Well, I set up a policy that all of my officers, me included, participate in operations at least twice a year. It helps keep us from losing our edge in an armchair. I…” He stopped as his Lieutenant reentered the room, and bent to whisper in his ear.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” He resumed. “You really did beat up Lu-Jenks! Commander Tuels said that it was the talk of Prime Base for weeks! Oh, he couldn’t verify what had happened to you; he said the Fleet hushed it up. Of course, that would tend to support your story as well.”

  He shook his head unbelievingly. “When I came aboard I was positive that I’d be taking you to To-Han under arrest; that you had to be the Empire agents sent to recover the Rekesh.” He sighed. “You have to be the luckiest sonofabitch alive. What are the chances that I could verify a wild story like yours?” He shook his head again and grinned. “I am damned glad I don’t have to arrest you, Kas. Why don’t you come on to the base and we’ll throw a party and you can tell that story again, and we’ll swap lies!”

  Kas sighed with relief, then shook his head with a weak smile. “I’m glad you don’t have to arrest me, too. And I would like to visit with you; but as I said, I’ve got a deadline. And those bastards at D’Jellabah delayed us so much that we’re pushing that deadline. Maybe I can stop on the way back. From what I’ve heard about Farterra’s money troubles, I doubt I’ll be able to pick up a return cargo.”

  After another hour spent chatting, Tarn was escorted to the lock. He’d been drinking Kas’ Glark freely, and the Lieutenant had to help him into his suit, and tow him across the ten-meter gap between the ships.

  Kas returned to the bridge, unsteady himself. Rom was not in much better shape. Kas made a mental note to stick to less potent spirits in the future. Finally, though, an officer appeared on the viewscreen, informing them that the armed satellite was no longer locked onto them, and they were authorized to proceed to their jump point.

  Kas breathed a huge sigh of relief, and as soon as their course to the jump point was locked in, he staggered to his cabin. He collapsed fully-dressed onto his bunk, and was snoring immediately.

  Kas struggled to wakefulness. His head ached terribly. He sat up, and groaned in agony as the universe wobbled unsteadily. His movement triggered the cabin’s lights, which stabbed agonizingly at his eyes. His mouth seemed filled with foul tasting cotton. He struggled to his feet and staggered to the ‘fresher on sheer will power.

  A long, hot shower and liberal use of toothpaste and mouthwash helped. He no longer considered dying a good thing. A savage headache remained, but for the most part, he was now willing to consider trying to make it through the day — as long as he could consume plenty of caf.

  He was pouring his third cup and beginning to feel truly alive again, when Rom came into the mess, whistling.

  “No,” Kas moaned. “Please tell me you’re not one of those horrible people who don’t get hung over!”

  Rom grinned. “’Fraid so, Skipper!” He continued to whistle gaily as he poured himself a cup of caf and moved to join Kas, whose headache was finally subsiding a bit.

  “So,” he said easily, “Didja really rack up Lu-Jenks, or was that just part of your cover?”

  Kas winced. “I really did it. It wasn’t exactly the high point of my career, and there’s no need the spread the story, understood?”

  Rom nodded, his grin widening. “I dunno, Boss. There’s lotsa folks would think forcing’ old Lu-Jenks to retire would be the high point of any career!” He paused, then continued, “Well, they obviously didn’t cashier or execute you. So what did they do?”

  Kas sighed. “Well, they were going to court-martial me, all right. I was transferred under arrest to the base on Prime. The unofficial word I got was that Pankin himself ordered that charges were not to be filed. The way I heard it, he said that anyone that sent sixty-three Fleet people to be killed deserved a few broken bones — or worse.

  “All I really know,” he continued, “is that the JAG investigating officers suddenly disappeared, and my quarters arrest was lifted by memo from the base CO. I sat around Prime Base for a while, and then Pankin called me to his office to give me this assignment — and my flag.”

  Rom looked thoughtful. “This Pankin. Sounds like he might be a few cuts above the usual innerworld bootlicker.”

  Kas snorted. “Fleet Admiral Pankin is a whole pile of cuts above the usual innerworld admiral — and he’s no kind of bootlicker!”

  Rom’s gaze was level. “You
believe in him, then. Interesting.”

  Kas nodded. “Yes, I believe in him. I’d suggest you start keeping up with the Fleet news and rumors. I have a feeling it’s going to get even more interesting over the next few years.”

  Rom’s eyebrows rose. He tried to draw Kas out, but Kas would tell him no more. Rom’s expression was thoughtful as he watched Kas leave the mess.

  Unfortunately, Lady Jane did not intend to be discreet. Once she learned that the story was true, in less than two days everyone aboard knew about it, if they hadn't already. Kas was annoyed but Lady Jane was unrepentant.

  “I think it’s great!” She proclaimed. “It shows that you’re a man and not some Fleet robot.”

  “Damn it, Jane, can’t you see that it’s a cause for shame, not pride? I assaulted a senior officer, a man I was sworn to obey. Not to mention that he was just an old man, twenty years older than me!”

  She shook her head firmly. “No. What I see is that man was responsible for the deaths of sixty-three people and you knew he wouldn’t be punished. I’m proud of you, even if you aren’t proud of yourself!” She refused to give him her word not to spread the story among the awakened battle cruiser crew, and the quarrel that resulted lasted until after they’d entered Jump.

  “Well, Captain,” she asked in an icy tone once they’d entered Jump, “You mentioned one last recal. I promised to advise you, so where do we emerge next?”

  Kas shrugged. “I’ m not sure your advice is required on this system,” he replied in an equally cold tone. “It’s supposed to be uninhabited. In fact, it doesn’t even have a name; just an NGC number.” He pointed it out on the chart. As she bent to examine the chart, Kas couldn’t help but notice the sweet fresh scent of her.

  Jane frowned, and then called Lar to the bridge. They huddled over the chart, muttering animatedly. Finally, Jane straightened, slapping the chart in frustration. “Damn! I wish I had the Lady Jane ’s charts!” Lar turned and silently moved to Rom’s terminal, where he began typing. She turned to Kas.

  “Captain,” she began formally, “We can’t be sure without the Lady Jane ’s large-scale charts of the rim, but I think this system is one that’s uninhabited for a reason. Lar’s checking the stellar index, but if it’s the system I’m thinking of, the primary seems to have been very unstable at some point. Anyway, it either never developed planets or its planets were broken up by extreme tidal stresses. The point is that instead of a normal system with planets, this system is just full of asteroid rubble. Everything from micropebbles to asteroids tens of kilometers across wandering around the system. It could be dangerous as Sheol. I’d at least recommend raising your shields the instant we emerge.”

  Kas cursed. “Is anything going to go right on this trip?” He asked no one in particular.

  A few moments later Lar confirmed that their target system was, indeed, the system he and Jane remembered.

  Kas scowled at the chart. “So, what can we do about it?”

  Lar’s scowl matched Kas’ as he shook his head. “I only see two choices,” he said. “Either we traverse the system dead slow, depending on our shields to deflect the small bits, and hoping we can veer around the big ones, or we turn right around and jump back out as soon as we can compute an angle.”

  Kas shook his head. “Jumping back just puts us back at To-Han, with Tarn getting curious. That has to be the last resort!”

  Lar shrugged. “It may be the only practical course of action, Captain. It would take us several weeks to traverse that system going dead slow. I don’t think we can stay sharp enough to dodge all the boulders for that long.”

  Kas’ temper began to flare. “My crew is Fleet! They’ll be sharp enough however long it takes.”

  Lar started to reply when Lady Jane interrupted. “Easy, boys. There may be a third way.” Kas and Lar rounded on her hopefully.

  “Look,” she began, “We all know that if it could be seen from outside, a stellar system would look like a big disk, with the star at the center. The star’s gravitational forces eventually pull nearly all the matter in the system into the same plane, so instead of resembling a ball of string, the system ends up resembling a disk, right?”

  Kas nodded. “Sure. The ‘plane of the ecliptic’. So what’s… Of course!” He shouted excitedly. “We can get out of the plane of the ecliptic!”

  Jane nodded. “Right. So here’s my recommendation. As soon as we emerge you set your shields on full. Once your Astrogator locates the next jump point, we boost toward stellar north and pull out of the plane of the ecliptic. When we get clear, we can drive toward the other jump point, and only dive back onto the ecliptic when we reach the coordinates of the jump point. That should reduce our hazard time considerably.”

  Kas cursed. “I should have thought of that. That’s first year academy stuff!”

  Jane shrugged and grinned. “It’s not something we normally deal with. After all, all the planets we want to visit and all the jump points between them are on the plane.” She paused. “I wonder why the jump points tend to be on the plane.”

  Kas shrugged. “Tera may know, if you’re really curious. My Astrogation training was more the ‘nuts and bolts’ type than the theoretical. I don’t care. All I care about is that your suggestion improves our chances of survival and success by several orders of magnitude. I’ve got to talk to Tera!” He hurried over to the Astrogator’s station.

  Tera wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as she frowned over the chart. “It’s easy to say that the plane of the ecliptic forms a disk,” she said. “Unfortunately, it’s just not that neat. The term ‘disk’ implies little thickness. Actually, the plane may cover anywhere from ten to twenty degrees of arc. We’re talking about millions of kilometers in depth. So, it’s not going to be just popping up a few kilometers and later popping down the same.”

  She shrugged. “Even when we’re out of the plane itself we won’t be out of danger. We could still run into asteroids and comets wandering the fringe of the plane, or knocked out of the plane by collisions with other bodies. Oh,” she continued, “I don’t have a better idea. I just want you to know that getting out of the ecliptic won’t mean getting completely out of danger. The jump point is about a third of the way around the circumference of the system and just inside its outer edge. We’re still going to have to boost slowly and keep our sensors at max.”

  Finally, it was only minutes until emergence. “Remember, Rom,” he fussed, “The second our emergence is complete, raise the shields at maximum power.”

  Rom grinned. “Relax, Skip. We all know what to do. I’ll get the shields up, and Tera’s ready to calculate our orientation to the jump point, and decide whether we should boost north or south.”

  The actual emergence was something of an anticlimax. Starhopper emerged without difficulty. Rom was as good as his word; the shields went up almost the instant they emerged. The only indication that this was not a normal system was a slightly higher-than-normal load on the shields as they deflected micrometeorites.

  It was an interminable two minutes before Tera announced, “Got it! Captain, we should drive to the stellar south about eighty million kilometers, dead slow. Once there we should be able to use more velocity.”

  It took more than thirty hours to traverse the eighty million kilometers to near-clear space. They were only about halfway when Rom cried, “Asteroid on collision course! Estimate sixty seconds to impact!”

  “How big is it?” Kas barked, “And can we steer around it?”

  “It’s big!” Rom replied. “Over a kilometer in the long dimension. Recommend emergency maneuver toward stellar east. I’m not sure we can avoid it, though.”

  Kas’ only reply was max blasts on the maneuvering jets. Silence dragged until Kas said, “We’re not going to make it! Edro! Use all the quick-firers! Maybe we can divert it just enough. If not, maybe the recoil will help the maneuvering jets enough!” He flicked a switch on his panel. “All hands brace for impact!”

  The little man didn
’t reply, but immediately there was a deep thrumming, more felt than heard, that told Kas the weapons were firing. The collapsium-plated projectiles massing over a hundred kilograms would have an almost negligible effect on the asteroid, but even ‘almost negligible’ could help. Seconds dragged. Suddenly the ship lurched, as a loud metallic grinding sounded throughout Starhopper.

  Kas shouted “All hands suit up! Possible hull breach!” as he reached for his own suit. He kept expecting to hear the loud hissing that would tell him that the ship’s atmosphere was venting to space.

  It was with a definite sense of relief that he sealed his faceplate. He scanned the instruments on his panel. All gauges were steady. He focused on the life support gauges. Atmospheric pressure steady. He relaxed with a huge sigh.

  He keyed his helmet comm. “Toj, We seem to still be tight. How long before you can give me a damage report?”

  Toj’s voice had the loss of timbre that indicated a helmet comm. “’Bout half an hour, Cap’n. No hull breaches apparent. That rock seems to have clipped our stern.”

  Twenty minutes later, Toj reported that Starhopper seemed sound internally, and requested permission to make an external survey.

  Kas shook his head. “Not until we’re out of the ecliptic. The hull seems to be holding, and the risk is too great.”

  Just over twelve hours later, Tera confirmed that they were out of the plane of the ecliptic. She and Kas set their course for the jump point, and Kas permitted half-normal acceleration. Tera estimated sixty-two hours until they must re-enter the plane of the ecliptic to traverse the jump point.

  Toj again requested permission for an external examination of the damage. “Permission granted,” Kas told him, “But take Gran along. No one goes outside alone.”

  Nearly another hour passed before Kas’ readings indicated the cycling of the passenger airlock to permit the two to reenter Starhopper. Kas fretted as he waited for the engineers to report to the bridge.