Archangel One

by Evan Currie

  The weapon in Jerich’s hand whined as it fired off a slew of high-speed shredders designed to tear apart flesh and the light body armor common on ships, but he barely noticed it over the echoing boom that filled the bridge.

  A hammer blow struck him, spinning Jerich around and throwing his weapon clear as the world went insane. He blacked out briefly, or so he thought, and found himself on the ground, blinking in shock. The figure wasn’t at the door anymore, he noticed dimly as his eyes rolled about and caught sight of the gray-armored man halfway to his position with more gray-clad figures appearing behind him.

  The world went black again, and when it came back, Jerich found himself propped up on a computer station with the man crouching a short distance away, holding Jerich’s own weapon in his grip as he idly examined it.

  “Interesting weapon.” The voice that came from the armor was distorted, inhuman.

  The sound made Jerich shudder, though he supposed absently that might be caused by something else. Another armored figure was wrapping blood-soaked fabric around his arm and spraying something about the resulting mess. Jerich felt the fabric stiffen quickly, growing warm as something changed.

  “Let the corpsman treat you,” the first man said calmly when Jerich tried to move. “Otherwise you’ll likely lose the arm.”

  “Who are you?” Jerich mumbled, feeling waves of burning pain assaulting him from his arm now, a sick feeling building in him.

  “Doesn’t matter,” the man said. “What matters is why I’m here.”

  Steph looked down at the injured officer, wondering if the man was going to pass out.

  “Can you keep him awake?” he asked the corpsman. “He seems to be the guy in charge of the rest of this rabble.”

  “For a while,” the woman in armor beside him affirmed. “But he’s lost a lot of blood. He’ll need transfusions soon, or at least some synth.”

  Steph nodded, reaching out to lightly slap the man’s face.

  “Hey, pay attention,” he said, holding a pair of fingers up between his eyes and the officer’s. “You have a problem.”

  The man laughed weakly. “I believe that I can see that, yes.”

  “Not me,” Steph said, shaking his head. “Your problem is that your ship is disabled and you have an Imperial Fleet bearing down on you. They’ll be here in a few hours.”

  The man turned so white that Steph thought for a moment he was about to go into shock from blood loss.

  “The Empire?” the officer croaked out. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure enough. The rest of your squadrons ran like every demon in hell was chasing them, as have the Kingdom destroyers,” Steph answered.

  “Why are you still here?” the officer asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  “Not overly fond of leaving people to be killed in cold blood,” Steph answered honestly. “Taking a life or dying in battle, that has some honor to it, though sometimes precious little. Watching the Empire just use your lot for target practice or, maybe worse, leaving you out here to die slowly if they decide you’re not worth the effort—that’s not really my way of doing things.”

  The man looked around the deck, noting that most of his people were being covered on one side of the bridge by two of the armored men while a few others were helping reconnect the systems he had been intending to move.

  “Who are you people?”

  “You can call me Teach,” Steph answered, “but that’s the wrong question. The right question is, how can we help you get out of this?”

  “Get us off this ship and run,” the man said simply. “We’ll never be able to get the Baphon repaired in time.”

  “What’s your name?” Steph asked from where he crouched, eyes boring into the man.

  The officer sighed. “I am Jerich. Sub-commander of the Baphon.”

  “Sub-commander? What happened to the commander? Captain?”

  “Captain,” Jerich said. “He was injured in the blast that destroyed our scanners and communications systems. He did not last long afterward.”

  Steph nodded slowly. “Well, my apologies for that. Was likely as not one of my shots that did it.”

  “It was battle.” Jerich seemed oddly unconcerned.

  Steph wasn’t quite sure what to make of the men he’d found on board the destroyer. All men so far, interestingly, and few seemed to care about who gave the orders. He looked down at the alien weapon in his grip, unsurprised that it fit his hand well despite its odd looks. Human forms meant human ergonomics, after all.

  It wasn’t the fit of the weapon that he found curious, though, it was the capabilities.

  As he crouched there, a realization hit him, and Steph simply nodded in understanding.

  “This isn’t intended to fight off boarders, is it?” he asked rhetorically.

  “Pardon?” Jerich asked, confused.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Steph said, rising to his feet. “Corpsman, look after him.”

  She nodded as Steph turned away, making his way over to where the Marines and local crewmen were working to reattach consoles that had been taken apart for moving.

  “How are the repairs going?” he asked in Imperial, eyes falling on a crewman who seemed to be in command after the bleeding man in the corpsman’s care.

  “Fine,” the man responded instantly. “However, without more fiber lines, we cannot connect the navigation systems to replacement scanners or communications.”

  “We don’t need to, don’t worry about it. What’s your name, son?” Steph asked, noting that the young man couldn’t be much out of his teens.

  “Derri, Commander.”

  “Well, Derri, just keep up the good work. Which one of these connects to the ship-wide communications?” Steph asked, gesturing around him.

  Derri pointed. “That one.”

  “Thanks, kid.” Steph nodded, patting him on the shoulder before heading over.

  He was intercepted by Master Sergeant Buckler just as he got to the console.

  “Bridge secured, and we’ve locked down much of the ship with the help of the crew here,” Buckler said, frowning. “Damned if I can work out why they’re so helpful.”

  Steph chuckled dryly, though there was little humor in it. “I can help you out there, Sergeant.”

  Buckler frowned, but before he could ask, Steph tossed him the officer’s sidearm underhanded, causing him to snatch the weapon out of the air reflexively.

  “Sir?”

  “Figured it out a few minutes ago,” Steph said, shaking his head. “That weapon, none of their weapons, were designed to hold off boarders, Sergeant.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “They’re designed to put down mutinies.”

  The master sergeant looked down at the alien weapon in his hand and let out a vile oath that left the commander again chuckling.

  “Exactly,” Steph said as he began to tinker with the console, thanking whoever was watching that it appeared to be a close match to Imperial and Priminae designs. “I would guess that there isn’t a man on this bastard of a ship that isn’t a conscript, barring a few of the officers.”

  “Well, that explains a few things,” Buckler admitted, glancing over Steph’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Talking to the conscripts,” Steph said as he opened a ship-wide channel.

  “Crew of the Baphon, you may call me Teach. I have control of your command deck and all associated systems. Do not attempt to take this from me; you do not have the time to waste. As we speak, an Imperial Fleet is bearing down on our position. Your squadron has fled, as have the Kingdom destroyers. If you wish to live, you will do as I order. If you do not, then feel free to try to take my position. I will withdraw my forces and leave you here to die, either at the hands of the Imperial forces or the tender mercies of the vacuum. Officers may approach to negotiate with my forces. Treachery will be met with force. Teach out.”

  Steph killed the channel and turned back to the master sergeant. “Inform the guards
that they’re to search anyone who approaches, then let them through.”

  “Yes sir,” Buckler answered, then sent the order over the team channels. “What’s the plan?”

  “Honestly? Still playing this by ear,” Steph admitted. “I’m waiting for news from the others in the squadron, but I think we save the ship.”

  “How do we get the eyes back?”

  Steph smiled. “We don’t.”

  Chapter 19

  Archangel Two

  Alexandra Black examined the data coming in as she flew overwatch patrol over the remaining fighter-gunboats, all of which were currently attached to the three stricken destroyers. I really hope Stephanos knows what the hell he’s doing. We’re running out of time.

  The Imperial vessels had accelerated again, and they were pushing the limits of safety right to the edge by the numbers she was seeing. That meant that their own safety margin was growing slimmer by the passing minute.

  “Archangel Actual,” she called. “Archangel Two.”

  “Go for Actual, Two.” Stephanos’ voice came back quickly.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, you need to get it done,” Alexandra said. “The Imps have cranked up their boilers and are steaming hard in this direction.”

  “How much time do we have?”

  She glanced at the numbers. “At maximum acceleration . . . we have another two hours, at most, before they’ll be able to force an engagement.”

  “How long if we’re limited to the destroyer’s acceleration?”

  “What? I don’t know. We don’t have precise specifications on those heaps. Are you crazy? Just get the hell off that thing already!”

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” he told her, amusement thick in his tone, making Alex want to bang her head into the hard-light projections in front of her. “How are the others doing?”

  “Fine so far. A few tried to get uppity, sneak weapons in, you know the drill. Most of them didn’t get a shot off when the Marines confronted them,” she said.

  “Most?” The humor was gone in an instant from his tone.

  “Most,” Alex sighed. “One got a few rounds off. Tore up his own people, but nothing got through the Marines’ armor.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” Steph said with some relief. “Make sure everyone is searched before unarmored people are allowed anywhere near them. Officers are to be considered potentially hostile in particular.”

  Alex frowned. “Something we missed?”

  “They’re mostly conscripts, Noire,” he told her. “Most of the crewmen don’t seem to give a damn if the officers live or die, though I’m sure we’ll see exceptions on both sides.”

  “Damn. Alright, I’ll pass that on.”

  “As soon as the others are loaded, have them disengage and get ready to run,” Steph ordered. “I’m working on something over here.”

  “Why are you trying to save that ship?” she asked.

  “Other than the fact that it’s a mostly intact starship?” he asked. “Alex, we’re basically on our own out here, and we’re running a cover as a privateer force. Privateers take prizes, it’s part of our cover. No merc group is going to let a fully armed, almost-intact ship slip from their grasp if they can help it.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “You are enjoying this entirely too damn much, Steph.”

  Stephanos’ laughter made clear what he thought of the accusation.

  “Get back to me when everyone is ready to move,” he said. “Archangel Actual out.”

  The channel closed and Alex swore into the silence.

  That idiot is going to be the death of me. In combat, if I’m lucky.

  Imperial Third Fleet

  “Movement on the targets, Fleet Commander.”

  Jesan looked up. “Oh? What are they doing?”

  “Shifting formation at the moment, no sign of any attempt to flee as of yet,” his second said.

  Jesan considered that, thinking it rather odd. They had to know that they stood no chance against the Third Fleet. He had truly expected them to run quite some time ago, not spend precious hours playing around with wrecked destroyers. The little data they had on the new ships indicated that they had exceptional acceleration capability, though the scans they had of the initial battle left few details on whether that was their maximum or if they could maintain it.

  In any case, he knew they were running out of time, with only minutes now counting down before the Third could force engagement against a standard acceleration, and not much longer for the faster smaller vessels they were dealing with. They had to make a move soon or the game was his.

  Once the Third was close enough to force an engagement, he was quite certain he could eliminate all of the enemy vessels with no problem.

  Why are they risking so much over three destroyers?

  The act made little sense to him and, of late, Jesan had grown to harbor a rather great deal of antipathy toward things that made no sense.

  Even after all those thoughts, however, he merely nodded to his second in command.

  “Continue as ordered. Inform me once we are close enough to force an engagement, or that they have begun acceleration.”

  “As you order, Fleet Commander.”

  Baphon

  “Sir, please,” the crewman stammered out as Steph continued to work on the navigation and helm. “Without scanners the ship is quite blind. Putting significant acceleration would be of extreme risk.”

  “More extreme than waiting for the Empire to arrive?” Steph asked rhetorically, a twist of his lip showing his amusement while he worked.

  The crewman blanched at that, but didn’t back down as some of the others had.

  “You should evacuate,” the man said miserably. “You have a ship, you can flee.”

  Steph smiled, seeming to consider that before shaking his head. “Nah. I like this baby, so I think I’ll keep her.”

  He made a couple tweaks and the helm returned to life, all connections to the ship’s engineering section rejoined. Steph opened a channel from his armor communication system.

  “Archangel One, Archangel Actual.”

  “One here, Crown.” Tyke’s voice came back instantly. “I hope you have news. We’re about to get a lot closer to those cruisers than we ever want to be.”

  “Detach from the ship,” Steph ordered. “I have navigation up, and I’m about to put power to the drives.”

  “Roger that. Archangel One detaching.”

  The deck vibrated under his feet as Steph entered some commands. “I need eyes, Tyke. Give me course heading and velocity numbers.”

  “Roger, Crown.”

  The deck shuddered again as the destroyer’s drives began to warp space around them. Steph grimaced, recognizing the feeling as an indication that the drives were slightly out of alignment. It wouldn’t be enough to seriously affect the ship in the short-term, he thought, but it would wreak all holy hell with long-term maintenance.

  “We’re under power and accelerating,” he announced in the open.

  “You fool, we’re flying blind!” The wounded officer cursed at him. “There is an asteroid cluster directly ahead, and debris from the battle is sure to be all about our position!”

  “You’re blind,” Steph said. “I see everything.”

  He wasn’t lying either, as his HUD was showing an augmented view piggybacking off the sensor data from Archangel One. He was looking ahead and through the bulkheads of the ship, directly into space as they flew.

  “Adjusting course heading,” he said as he worked the controls. “Increasing space-warp . . .”

  The ship shuddered, and then suddenly all vibrations ceased as the hum died out. He checked a few things, then growled as he saw that their acceleration had stopped entirely.

  “Crown, you okay? Ship just started coasting again.”

  “Roger, Tyke, I noticed. Give me a minute.”

  “You don’t have too many of those left, boss.”

  “Don’t I know it. Hold on, I’l
l get back to you.”

  Steph tapped the ship’s controls, bringing up access to the onboard communications system and opening a channel.

  “Engineering, this is the bridge.”

  He gave them a few seconds before signalling again.

  “Engineering, this is the bridge. If you want to live, I suggest you talk to me before I send my men down there to have a chat with you.”

  Someone quickly got on the line.

  “What do you want?”

  The speaker was understandably a little snippy, but Steph didn’t have time to put up with attitude.

  “I want to make sure that the Imperial Fleet on our tail doesn’t catch us,” Steph replied. “And to do that I need you to do your job. If you can’t, tell me now and I’ll call my ship back and get the hell out of here. You can take your chances with the Empire.”

  There was a pause, stretching out the seconds before the voice responded at all.

  “Imperial Fleet . . .” the speaker said, like he was half shocked and half remembering something. Steph snorted at the stricken tone the voice took on, irritated by the lost time.

  “You heard me, now and earlier when I told everyone on this bucket what was coming. Now make your decision. I’m fine with leaving you to their mercies if that’s what you want. I’m a big fan of freedom of choice, so make yours now.”

  There was a long, drawn-out silence before the voice finally came back.

  “What do you need?”

  “Stop playing games with me, do your job, and give me engine power back! After that, well, we’re flying blinded up here while getting our navigation data from my ship. That’s enough of a disadvantage as it is, so get the drives to full efficiency, and do it now.”

  “How do we know you’re telling us the truth?”

  Steph grimaced, growling under his breath before he responded.

  “Do you really care?” he asked.

  “W-what?”

  “I asked, do you really care if I’m being honest?” he demanded of the voice. “You lost the battle, either way. Your ship is crippled, your squadron left you for dead. Do you honestly give a damn if I’m telling you the truth? What’s really on your mind?”