Joel nodded to the LT in charge, then hurried into the shuttle and took the helm. The course was already programmed into the flight computer, as if the craft didn’t need a human pilot at all.
Except a computer couldn’t handle a surprise, he thought as he ran through his own set of preflight checks. He trusted the shuttlebay crew, but this was Uncanny. Even a minor power surge at the wrong time could prove disastrous, if only by revealing the vessel’s position to any watching sensors. We might have to take evasive action at a moment’s notice.
Joel glanced back at the ten-man platoon as they took their seats in the shuttle, and then powered the shuttle up as soon as the order arrived from the bridge. It wouldn’t have been hard to fit more militiamen into the shuttle, but he suspected that Major Lupine was trying to minimize his exposure. Losing the shuttle would mean losing the platoon as well. A moment later, a dull shaking echoed through the craft as tractor fields picked her up and propelled her towards the hatch.
They should let us make our own way out of the bay, he thought as the gravity field shivered slightly. It isn’t as if it would make a difference. Uncanny is cloaked.
“We’re on our way,” he said as he triggered the gas jets. They were laughably weak compared to a standard drive field, but they did have the advantage of being almost completely undetectable. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Chief,” the LT said. “Ready to move when necessary.”
The inky darkness of space enveloped the shuttle. It was going to be a long flight to their destination . . .
And we could be detected at any time, Joel reminded himself. He couldn’t help feeling vulnerable. The shuttle was fast but required time to bring up the main drives if detected. Joel might have no time to take evasive action. And that will be the end.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
William had to force himself to remain calm.
He was no stranger to danger, but there was no way he could take command of the mission himself. The captain shouldn’t leave the bridge during combat operations. And that meant he had to watch Major Lupine and his men go into harm’s way while he was completely out of danger. It didn’t sit well with him and he hoped it never would.
“Twenty minutes to contact, Captain,” Thompson reported. “No sign they’ve been detected.”
William wasn’t reassured. The pirates would be fools to run any sort of active sensor sweep, even in an otherwise deserted system. A single stray signal might bring a warship down on their heads. But he still worried. A passive sensor array might pick up something in time to make a difference.
“Keep us crawling in after them,” he ordered. The asteroid was unlikely to have any weapons that could threaten Uncanny, but he didn’t want to give the pirates a chance to prove him wrong. “Is the message recorded?”
“Aye, Captain,” Stott said. “We can transmit on your command.”
William glanced at the timer. He was too used to space combat moving swiftly, he suspected; he’d never had to wait so long before jumping into action. But the militia needed to be in place before he made his move.
If we bugger this up, he thought, nearly fifty militiamen and twenty of my crew are going to die.
“Captain,” Thompson said, after fifteen minutes. It had felt like hours. “The shuttles are almost in position.”
“Prepare to drop the cloak,” William ordered. “And stand by all weapons.”
“Aye, Captain,” Thompson said. “The shuttles are in position . . . now!”
“Drop the cloak,” William snapped. “Transmit the signal.”
“Aye, Captain,” Thompson said. “The shuttles are going active. No defensive fire detected.”
Yet, William thought.
“No response,” Stott said. “We’re transmitting on all channels. They’re bound to hear it.”
William nodded. The pirates were in deep shit. Their starships, however many they had, were trapped inside the asteroid. Trying to open a gateway inside the asteroid would prove disastrous, the gravity flux tearing the mass apart and sucking the debris into hyperspace while simultaneously crushing their starships’ hulls. They had to know there was no way out, but surrender . . .
. . . and if they felt pressured both inside and outside the asteroid, they might surrender without further ado.
“Picking up targeting sensors,” Joel snapped as an alarm sounded. “Hold on!”
He threw the shuttle into an evasive loop, silently grateful that he’d had time to power up the drive nodes before the pirates got over their shock and reacted. The point defense weapon, nothing more than a plasma cannon, fired wildly, missing the shuttle by several miles. He threw a counter-missile back at the cannon then steered the shuttle towards the asteroid’s giant hatch, watching as two penetrator missiles slammed into the hatch and blew it wide open.
“Shit,” the LT breathed.
Joel allowed himself a tight smile. The interior cavern was huge, easily large enough to take an entire squadron of superdreadnoughts. A cluster of smaller starships hung in the air, hanging over a landing field so vast that he could almost believe that it was on the surface of a planet. Someone had been playing games with the gravity field, he noted, as he guided the shuttle towards the hatches that led into the base. The ground was low-gee, presumably to make unloading shuttlecraft easier, but there was no gravity field threatening to tug the starships down to the surface. The installation was clearly designed by someone who lived and breathed space.
“The CO’s deploying scout bugs now,” one of the militiamen said. “And . . .”
Joel cursed as an alarm sounded. “The bastards just vented the chamber,” he said. It was also equally possible that one of his missiles had taken out a force-field generator as well as the doors, but he preferred to blame the enemy. “Keep your masks on.”
The shuttle grounded, hitting the deck hard enough to shake the entire craft. Joel glanced at his sensors then opened the hatches. The militiamen didn’t hesitate. They rose and jogged out of the craft, holding their weapons at the ready. There didn’t seem to be any organized resistance. Other shuttles were buzzing around the starships, force-docking with their airlocks and boarding them. The pirates had to know they had very little chance of escape.
Unless some idiot decides to try to open a gateway, he thought. This chamber is large enough to convince someone that it might be possible.
He kept a wary eye on the enemy starships as more and more reports flowed into the communications network. The pirates definitely hadn’t had time to organize a resistance, certainly not at one of the chokepoints that would have doomed the entire mission. If Joel had designed the asteroid, he would have made sure there were only two connections maximum between the depressurized starship chamber and the remainder of the habitat. A staunch defense, with the intention of holding that section as long as possible, might have given the pirates time to either start bargaining or take more drastic measures.
Now all I can do is wait, he thought, feeling the pistol on his hip. He’d been told to stay out of the firing line, though he had one of the best shooting records on Uncanny. Besides, he wasn’t a militiaman, and he certainly hadn’t trained with them. Wait and pray the pirates don’t blow the entire asteroid.
William felt sweat pouring down his back as the stream of reports flowed into the command network. The pirates had been taken completely by surprise—the microscopic recon drones were already mapping out the asteroid’s interior—and their starships had been captured with remarkable speed, but their resistance was stiffening as the militia pushed their way towards the asteroid’s command network. Dozens of pirates had already been stunned, along with a number of sex slaves they’d tried to use as human shields, but others were fighting back with surprising effectiveness. And there had been no response to the message.
“Signal from the boarding parties,” Stott commented. “They’re requesting permission to power up the captured ships and start moving them out of the chamber.”
�
�Granted,” William said. He had no idea how long it would take to get the ships out, but the pirates would have to despair when they saw their starships flying away. “Order them to hold position as soon as they’re clear of the asteroid cluster.”
He sucked in his breath as he studied the latest set of reports. The pirate base was a warren; they’d simply tunneled into the rock like rabbits. Still, the passage to the enemy command center was heavily blocked. Worse, the enemy had finally started deploying counter-drones of their own. The growing diagram of the interior had some gaping holes.
“Keep repeating the signal,” William ordered.
He thought hard, wondering just what was going on. How long would it take the pirates to see reason? Or were they trying desperately to detonate a nuclear warhead? Setting off an antimatter warhead was easy—one just turned off the containment chambers—but it was a great deal harder to trigger a nuke. It was quite possible that they were having problems overriding the safety protocols. Missile warheads weren’t designed to be triggered inside their launch tubes.
“Captain,” Stott said, “I’m picking up a response. Audio only.”
Of course, William thought. In his experience, pirates never sent visual images if they could avoid it. What will they have to say?
“Put it through,” he ordered.
“Prepare to die,” a frantic voice said. “I’m going to blow the entire base!”
“Yet you could live,” William said, concentrating on projecting as much reassurance as he could into his tone. The speaker sounded young . . . too young? William knew how to handle nervous young officers who were nominally in charge. “The offer to take you to a penal colony is genuine.”
“I’d rather die,” the speaker insisted. “Do you know what they do there?”
Better than you, I suspect, William thought.
He kept that thought to himself. “If you blow up the asteroid, you’ll kill everyone on the rock; your people, my people . . . everyone,” he said. “But if you surrender, you get to live.”
“On a penal colony,” the speaker seethed.
“If you surrender now, I can arrange for you to be transported to a stage-one colony to serve as conscripted immigrants,” William offered. “It won’t be an easy life, but you’ll have a chance to make something of it. I’m sure some of you have skills you can parlay into a better position there.”
A long pause followed. “How do we know you’ll keep your word?”
“You don’t,” William said. “Right now, you have the choice between killing yourself or seeing what awaits you if you surrender.”
He wondered just who he was actually talking to. The speaker didn’t sound like a hard-boiled pirate. If he hadn’t seen footage of sex slaves and piles of stolen goods as the drones swept the asteroid, he would have wondered if he and his crew had made a terrible mistake. Perhaps he was dealing with someone who’d been left behind because of a lack of nerve . . .
Any smart pirate would have spaced him, William reminded himself. A subordinate unwilling to compromise himself is a dangerous subordinate.
He glanced at the latest set of reports. Major Lupine was readying his men to punch through the defenses, abandoning the attempt to stun rather than kill the defenders, but that might panic the base commander. Maybe he’d just had delusions of grandeur. William had met far too many people who lied to themselves, constantly, just to feel good about themselves. It was easy to feel like a brave freedom fighter, rather than a terrorist, when everyone was too scared to stand up to you.
Hardly anyone dares resist the pirates, William thought. There was something in human nature that made resistance hard, even though resisting could hardly make matters worse. It wasn’t as if the pirates could be dissuaded by spurious claims of being orphans. It must come as a shock to be attacked on their home ground.
“This applies to all of us?” the pirate asked, carefully. “Each and every last one of us?”
William slightly regretted his promise. Chances were that there were a few monsters among the stunned, men and maybe even women whose mere existence made the galaxy a little fouler. To let them live, even if they were dispatched to a penal colony, went against the grain. But he needed the pirates to surrender . . .
“You all get to live,” he said carefully. “And those of you who cooperate will be offered the chance to go to a stage-one colony.”
He waited, wondering just what the pirate would say. A stage-one colony wouldn’t be comfortable, certainly not for a conscripted immigrant, but it would offer the pirates a chance at redemption. On the other hand, they might also see it as another kind of slavery . . .
“We accept,” the pirate said, finally. “What do we do?”
William had a moment of relief. “Order your men to stop shooting and put down their weapons,” he said. “My men will take them into custody. As long as they behave themselves, they will be left unharmed. Your prisoners will be released and transported to safety.”
There was a long pause. “We understand.”
“Good,” William said. He keyed his console. “Major Lupine, the pirates have surrendered to us. Take them into custody as planned.”
“Yes, sir,” Lupine said.
William watched as the militiamen moved forward, weapons at the ready. It wasn’t over yet. A single idiot unwilling to surrender after his superiors had ordered him to put his weapon down could get a lot of people killed . . .
One by one, the pirates were disarmed, secured, and then pushed against the bulkhead to await their fate. The remainder of the militia kept advancing up into the control compartment, surrounded by a swarm of drones.
“We have the base secure, sir,” Lupine said finally. “The computer network is under our control.”
“Very good,” William said. “How many prisoners and slaves are we looking at?”
“At least three to four hundred,” Lupine said. “Processing them all is going to take time.”
“Of course,” William said.
An alarm sounded. “Captain,” Thompson said. “A gateway is opening . . .”
William turned just in time to see a pair of mid-sized destroyers flying out of hyperspace on a direct course for the base. There were no IFF signals, nothing to suggest they might be from Jorlem or Vangelis or anyone else who might have an interest in suppressing pirate activity. And the odd power fluctuations surrounding them suggested they were not in good condition.
“One of the destroyers is a known pirate ship, Captain” Thompson reported. “She was noted and logged during a brief engagement seven months ago. Her drive field matches the record perfectly. The other is unknown.”
“Helm, bring us around to face them,” William ordered. If the pirates chose to launch a spread of missiles at their former base, there was too great a chance of them scoring a hit and killing everyone on the asteroid. “Communications, demand their immediate surrender.”
“Aye, Captain,” Stott said.
The pirate ships altered course sharply, having seen the uncloaked, unstealthed Uncanny almost as soon as they exited hyperspace. There hadn’t been any time to cloak the ship or even slip into stealth mode. And now the pirates were running . . .
Any hope of luring more bastards into our clutches is now gone, William thought glumly. They’ll tell everyone that the base has fallen.
“Captain, they’re powering up their gateway generators,” Thompson reported. “They’re still well out of missile range.”
“Understood,” William said. A moment later, two gateways opened and the pirate ships vanished into hyperspace. He balled his fists in frustration as the gateways closed. A clean getaway. There wasn’t a hope in hell of catching even one of the pirate ships. “Take us back to the asteroid.”
“Aye, Captain,” Cecelia said.
All twelve of the captured ships had been maneuvered out of the asteroid and were now holding station on the edge of the cluster. Six were candidates for the scrapyard judging by their fluctuating drive fields
, but the remainder would probably bring in a great deal of money. The ships would have to be sold carefully, he knew; they’d have to go to someone who wouldn’t sell them back to the pirates. His crew had good reason to be pleased, though. Everyone would be due another share of the prize money.
“Update from the asteroid, sir,” Stott said. “There are roughly four hundred prisoners, ranging from sex slaves and prostitutes to enslaved workers and hostages. There are also five hundred and seventy pirates and their hangers-on. The former are currently being prepped for the move back to Uncanny.”
“We’re going to have problems taking four hundred people on the ship,” Roach warned. “I’m not sure I’d trust the life support to handle so many additional passengers.”
“I know,” William said. He would have been reluctant to take the risk regardless of Uncanny’s reputation. “Some of them will have to be transported in the captured vessels.”
He sighed. Space and life support weren’t the only problems. Some of the prisoners would have been slaves so long that Stockholm syndrome was a real possibility. They might do something stupid or desperate once they were on his ship, convinced they were helping their masters. Others might be fearful of what would happen when—if—they returned home. They might have been forced to get their hands dirty merely to stay alive.
Getting the pirates to their final destination might be tricky too, he thought. We can’t take so many potential troublemakers onto one ship.
“Detach additional engineering teams to the captured vessels,” he ordered. “If they can be made safe, then we’ll use them for transport. Then see if engineering can blow up a few life support bubbles. The pirates can stay there until we can transport them to the nearest stage-one colony.”
Cursed Command (Angel in the Whirlwind Book 3) Page 27