by Casey Lea
Freefall raised a finger in assent, but Clearwing was intent on the images around her and missed his sharp gesture. “Do it,” he ordered instead, and the tip of her tongue appeared, pink against the gold of her lips, as she made delicate adjustments to her probe.
Her shoulders tensed abruptly, but the subtle interface of her hands and mind seemed unaffected. An invisible line of light peeled a single pulse from the pirates’ hologram and color blazed through the nest. Data exploded from every console and new images formed to fill the hollow sphere. The information flowed for less than a second and then Clearwing gently withdrew. Her intrusion remained undetected, but the Honor had gained a wealth of vital data. It hung in the air before Freefall in ominous detail.
“Ye Gods,” Gull muttered irreverently, and the Leader silently echoed his sentiments.
Their nest was now dominated by the image of three attack ships.
“They’re Harvesters,” young BackBeak quavered from his post near the wall.
Freefall spared a glance for the youngster, who looked fearfully back through the garish hulls that now surrounded them.
“Harvesters,” the boy repeated hoarsely. “They’ve come for us. They’ll take us...” He stopped to gag and his fronds tucked hard against his throat.
“No one’s taking us anyplace. Ever,” Freefall said calmly, and the boy managed to stop retching. The leader smiled and sent support but BackBeak scowled and looked away, his hair writhing in embarrassment.
“They’re mind-lost to try harvesting in kres space,” Freefall continued. “The mermaridian Lucks must be mad to think we’d allow it.”
“They’re gambling,” Gull stated flatly. “That we won’t find out, or that when we do we won’t act if they apologise full quick. They know how much we hate war. What are they up to now, Sub?”
No one doubted who the Senior was addressing. Every crewmember looked expectantly at Clearwing.
“Sah... there are fluctuations in their hologram. I sense some changes. I can only take superficial readings, but I think they show an alteration. I can’t be certain-sure-”
“Best guess?”
“They’re changing their false face. They want to show us something else.”
Freefall frowned and rubbed his aching cheek. “I wonder what?”
“Sah, it’s expanding. I’ll have to pull my outer scan right back.”
“Sah,” the CS interrupted. “In-talk.”
He relayed the call to a space above his Leader’s head without having to be told. Freefall tilted his chair so that he could see it clearly and checked that none of his scans showing data on the Harvesters could be seen in return.
“Leader Lamidia.”
“Leader FarFlight. We’ve done as you asked and are leaving our ship. My crew has ejected and I’m soon to go too.” She smiled winsomely, with another flash of lavender lids. “I told them you were honorable and would never leave us to drift. We trust you, Leader. You can move in for pick up now. I’ll see you soon.”
The mermaridian’s image disappeared and was replaced by an external view of the Reaper. It appeared to be a single ship, now surrounded by the clinging bubbles of escape fields. A final translucent orb joined their cluster and slowly drifted free from the parent vessel.
“Power up propulsion,” Freefall ordered. “Let them be certain-sure we’re coming in. Do we have a position on any of the real ships?”
The DS cleared his throat. “We know where they were, sah, but they’ve most likely shifted,” he offered.
“Actually,” Clearwing said, and spared her senior an apologetic smile, “the biggest ship can't move. It’s the source of the hologram. The demands of keeping that opaque to our scans while changing what we see are huge. Any movement would risk discovery. It’s likely that the projecting Harvester is holding at the co-ordinates we know.”
Freefall nodded without hesitation. “That’s a sound assumption. We can’t outrun three Harvesters, so we need to get creative. Let’s stake a gamble and move in on that ship. Navigation, target the lead ship for ramming. Use its previous co-ordinates.”
“Targeted, sah.”
“Good. Divert power to the engines and be ready to push them hard, Nav Senior. Take us in looking cautious-as and then move to total thrust as we enter the hologram.”
Freefall settled deeper in the grip of his chair. It rearranged itself around him, its restraint field ready to engage. He studied the slowly wheeling external visual, not bothering to look for his roving senior. He knew that Gull would have his safety harness programmed and in perfect order.
“We’re entering the front edge of the energy field, sah,” Clearwing announced.
The leader glanced across at his silent Data Senior, who seemed to be sulking. He ignored the angry officer and turned back to his visual. He made no effort to hide a savage grin as the Honor abruptly leapt forward. Projections in the nest blurred and then steadied as space streamed past. The energy orbs that supposedly held the pirates leapt to alarming size. The visual display compensated automatically, but the globes shrank, only to bloat again.
They flew past Freefall like bubbles rising through water. He heard the younger BackBeak gasp, but hardly registered the inexperienced reaction. He was too tightly focused on Clearwing and her data projections.
She bit her lip and leaned even further into the hologram. “Due to clear the fake feed, sah... now!”
The silver globes that seemed to grow as they passed through the nest abruptly vanished. A wall of gold, vermilion and bronze replaced them. This time, Clearwing gasped and BackBeak cried out. The Harvester hull filled every projection and its massive curve grew steeper as the Honor hurtled into it.
5
First Blood
Clearwing opened her mouth to scream, but the Honor screamed first. Metal shrieked as her ship rammed into the huge Harvester vessel. She had scarcely registered their speed when they hit. She quivered and tried to brace herself for death.
The universe shattered around her into shards of gold, purple and bronze. The Honor shuddered and squealed again, but it was the Harvester ship that broke. Clearwing belatedly realized that Freefall had transferred all of their power to a ramming field as they struck. She checked the figures on the exchange and was impressed. The transition was flawless and perfectly timed to maximise the speed at which they hit. Another tremor ran through the nest and she trembled with it. She longed to look up at her leader and be reassured by his calm competence, but no one in the nest could move. Automatic restraint fields gripped them firmly as the Honor ripped through the vitals of the Harvester vessel.
Clearwing’s scanners continued to gather data and she found it impossible to look away from the visual feed. It showed a medley of twisted parts - pieces of the enemy ship flying past. She flinched when a bulkhead cartwheeled by and still their momentum drove them on.
Something duller and less garish than the Harvester interior filled her visual. Drops of blood flew into Clearwing’s face and that spray seemed to hang in the air around her long after their screeching passage had left it behind.
The realisation that people were dying around her was enough to bring her to the brink of tears. She blinked furiously when her data streams blurred. She was rescued by a gentle touch on her shoulder. The restraints had eased and she looked up at the understanding face of Senior Gull. He nodded to an external projection. It showed broken spars and a motionless bulkhead before them. The only movement came from drifting clouds of debris.
We’ve stopped, his mind stated calmly. The leader will need information on the remaining ships. He wants you to gather it. Data lock on both, with full tracking and weapons-defense analysis. He knows you won’t lose them.
Sah, isn’t that the Data Senior’s job, Clearwing projected in response, and Gull looked grim.
Yes, it is, and he’ll be given full chance to do it, but the leader wants your sure eye on this fight too.
Clearwing flicked a finger in understanding. FarFligh
t had sent Gull with his private orders to avoid humiliating her superior. She looked across at Data Senior BackBeak, who was watching the Leader anxiously. FarFlight raised a finger in his direction and he slumped with obvious relief. He straightened immediately and spared Clearwing a triumphant glance before turning to his console. She tried to remain unperturbed by his malice as she powered up her own data locks.
“Very good, Sub,” Gull murmured, and then wafted away with a touch of his boot to Clearwing’s chair.
However, the young officer scarcely noticed. Her mind was already busy firing orders at the computer. Her mental commands created new images in the air before her, but the Data Senior was too distracted to notice.
“One ship’s behind us, sah,” he informed the leader grimly. “It’s in wait mode outside the breach we made and now blocks our retreat.”
Freefall acknowledged the information with a casual lift of his finger. He seemed utterly relaxed, but Clearwing wondered whether the faint crease in his forehead was a sign of alarm. It was impossible to know, because the leader kept his mind and emotions as carefully blocked as ever. “Where’s the other ship, DS?”
The Data Senior looked back to his projections and stiffened. His dark brown hair stirred and writhed around the ship’s crest braided through it. “I’m not sure. It was there a moment past, beside the other Harvester vessel. It’s disappeared. Sah. They must be hidden again. In their camouflage field.”
Freefall looked sharply down at his officer. “Are you certain-sure? Isn’t that a faint engine trail in your data?”
“That’s simply an engine residual. It’s too weak to be fresh. I must lodge a formal protest against you, Ship Leader. I can’t do my job with your constant interference. I ask you to refrain from trying to interpret my data.”
The silence in the nest was absolute. Freefall’s response was calm, but his words were clipped and something in his tone made Clearwing shiver. “I will refrain from interpreting data, DS, when I’m dead. Can you tell me anything about where that second ship could be?”
The two males glared at each other and Gull rose slowly to float behind the Data Senior. That officer’s back was tight with anger and he gripped his console until his knuckles showed gold.
“They’re in camouflage,” he choked. “It’s all that’s possible. That’s why they’re gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Noplace. Just gone.”
Freefall held the other’s gaze for a final second, but now his voice was as calm as his face. “I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough. You’re dismissed, DS. Go home and tell your family they can buy you rank, but not ability.”
The Data Senior’s expression was outraged, but the Leader ignored him. Instead, he spun his chair and dropped to face Clearwing. “Where are they, Clear?”
The Data Sub had to rip her gaze away from her disgraced superior, who was plucked from his seat by Senior Gull. She gulped and her eyes met Freefall’s. She swallowed again and struggled to remember what she was doing.
“Your tracers, Sub,” the Leader prompted and she jerked in response. Hair whirled around her, along with her holograms.
“Yessah. I’ve got them. The missing ship did leave that engine trail, sah. It’s faint for two reasons. They used low power and there’s interference from the hull surrounding us. They slipped my lock 72 seconds past, when the remains of the ship we rammed masked them. They’ve not reappeared and any trail from an active engine vanished. I think they’re holding still and hiding on the far side of this wreck. I’d say they have us bracketed, one ship behind and the other ahead.”
Freefall raised a finger in instant agreement. “I thought such. It’s also perfect-as. They think they have us trapped, because we only have two options. They’re waiting for us to run back through the breach, or to blast our way free and come out far-side. So let’s surprise them. Tactical, engage all lock clamps and tractor fields. I want us totally attached to this hulk. Be prepared to release at my signal. NS, plot this course.”
He flicked a string of co-ordinates toward the Navigation Senior’s console. She integrated them smoothly into her display and her mind diverted all free power to the engine.
“Ready, sah.”
Freefall raised a finger in acknowledgment, but his attention was fixed on his own data projection. Clearwing brought up his feed and saw that the Honor was well embedded in the remnants of the Harvester vessel. There were fitful life signs from pockets in the ruptured enemy hull that made her flinch, but the Leader ignored them. He highlighted the remaining two ships instead. One was clearly visible and stationed beyond the rent made when the Honor had rammed its companion. It floated ominously against darkness, but occasional flashes from the disintegrating craft around them lit its hull in an inappropriately cheery display.
Clear grimaced at its positioning. Its leader was clearly wary and had placed his ship close enough to cover their exit, but far enough away not to be easily hit in return. The Harvester had a clear advantage, with the ability to maneuver in open space.
Her attention shifted to the faint engine trail that had been left by the other vessel. It vanished as it passed to the far side of the wreck around them, but its likely destination was obvious. It must have been stationed to attack if the Honor tried to blast through the hull on that side. The Harvester’s path had been tight and close to the ruptured ship as it tried to hide from her scan, but she was sure it was still there and using the wreck for cover.
Above her Freefall sat back comfortably then stretched his legs and crossed them at the ankles. His hand rose toward the high-braided collar of his purple uniform, as if to tug at it, but he managed a relaxed smile instead and looked up at navigation.
“Execute,” he ordered, and the NS instantly obeyed.
There was no sense of physical movement within the shielded nest, but projections wheeled around the crew as the Honor drove forward. It leapt from rest to full propulsion and pulled the Harvester hulk with it. Clear would have been crouched on the edge of her seat, if her safety field hadn’t forced her into it instead. She lay there pressed flat and watched acceleration data.
The Honor was deceptively powerful and had no difficulty pulling the pirate wreck to full speed. The linked vessels leaped forward together, but then the hidden kres ship pivoted. All drive shifted to one side and the dirty gold diamond spun, to throw one half of its ruined foe ahead, while the other turned into line behind it.
“Release clamps,” Freefall ordered, and Clear blinked when the Honor dropped its hold on the straining hulk around it. What was the Leader thinking? The pirate ship would sail right on and eventually spin into them.
However, when the fields were released the forward half of the enemy wreck was hurled into its hidden comrade. The flash of an explosion filled the nest and the kres ship shook. Clearwing was stretched flat on her seat again, while the world around her turned to red and the scream of tortured carbon mimicked the unheard cries of the dying. The Harvester ship that they had first rammed finally ruptured completely. One half spun away, while the other continued to disintegrate, along with the ship it had hit. Open space appeared before the Honor and Freefall ordered them forward. They soared away from the ruin around them and accelerated in a sweeping arc to come up behind their final target.
***
The remaining Harvesters watched the displays in their nest with helpless horror. The target they were waiting for had reappeared in a way they had never anticipated. Their young Leader struggled with the shock of having their own ships used against them and abruptly being alone in what should have been another easy victory.
“Evasive,” Lamidia screamed, and her NS shook off his horror to react barely in time.
The intact half of their rammed mother ship spun through space toward them. Its considerable momentum powered its tumbling rush and Lamidia’s ship darted sideways before it. A glancing blow jarred one fluted wing, but the smaller craft staggered clear. Damage logos flashed in the air b
efore the fuming leader and she cursed. “Where the Luck is that inbred kres?”
“Coming round behind, Leader. They’ve got data lock.”
“Full power evasive. Tuck us behind the remains of the Kill.”
Her officer’s mind and fingers flew as he complied. The Reaper lurched forward vibrating and groaning from structural damage. The ship veered toward the tangled mass that was all that remained of its companions, but that shelter approached at erratic speed and Lamidia cursed again. She could scarcely believe their latest battle had been so quickly lost and her heart chilled at the truth in that thought. This battle was lost and even the chance of escape was slim.
“Low odds are better than none,” she muttered, “and sometimes they pay best of all.”
The nest abruptly brightened with the projected image of an energy pulse and the Reaper was slammed sideways. Lamidia felt her ship lift and split around her. The already damaged strut that used to curve to follow the hull disintegrated. Its loss caused a ship-long rupture and containment fields struggled to seal the breach. Lamidia sorted through the images floating before her, hands and mind flying as she absorbed data. She realized that the strike was not a direct hit and that the energy bolt had struck the remains of their defense screen. She traced its vector from the kres ship and it was clear that the miss was deliberate. The fleet vessel had aimed to one side in an effort to stun them with concussion from the blast. The kres captain clearly wanted prisoners as part of his victory. She snarled and felt wetness above her lip. She reached up to wipe her bloody nose and a streak of purple smeared her hand.
“Curse all kres,” she choked. “Luck leave them forever.” She looked up at the sound of a com chime.
The image of Freefall floated in the air before her. His expression was serious, even sympathetic, and she cursed again at the hypocrisy of the Royal Fleet.
“A truly good fight, Leader,” he said grimly, and she sneered in response. “Your luck is lost today. We’re not here to be harvested. Kres will never be fodder for your arenas and auction pits. We demand the return of every slave and gladiator kidnapped from our territory.”