Afterburn

by S. L. Viehl

  “The Core will not attack us again,” Liam told the engineer. “We have a signed a treaty with them.”

  “How can you make a treaty with diseased tree sap?”

  “The Core inhabit the sap of gnorra trees, but they are not a disease, and we should not jump to conclusions,” Ana said in her firmest tone. “It was our success with the Core that gave us the idea to hold the Peace Summit. Ambassadors from all the planets in our system will be able to meet, discuss problems, and form cooperative accords so that we can defend and help each other.”

  “Which is admirable, but at present someone is trying to help themselves to Ylyd,” Norash said. “We need to gather as much intelligence about this raid as we can, and take steps to safeguard the other diplomats and their vessels. Doctor, there will be survivors brought in from the mercenary ships. They are to be treated and kept under guard until they are fit for questioning.”

  “I will need some of your officers over at the FreeClinic to set up an isolation ward,” Liam told him.

  “Done.” Norash’s image looked at Jadaira. “If the diplomats on board the Ylyd ship have not been killed or seriously injured, then we will need to arrange accommodations for them until their ship can be repaired and restored.”

  “I will speak to Transport and see what can be arranged,” Dair promised. “If there is not a vessel suitable for them, then the coastal pod will provide private waters for them on-planet.”

  Norash then addressed his security supervisors. “I want to know who orchestrated this raid, and for what reason. Recover all transmissions from the mercenary ships and have them analyzed. Reports are to be encrypted and sent directly to my office. Dismissed.”

  “I’ve seen that firing pattern a thousand times,” Onkar transmitted to Shon and the rest of the patrol. He had flown Rescue Three out to meet the patrol and came upon them fighting the mercenary ambush. “I know that Byorn mu Znora has control of that ship.”

  “The flight pattern has changed, Subcommander,” Saree pointed out. “If he was at the helm, then he’s no longer at the flight controls.”

  “But someone in league with him is.” Onkar avoided a midfield collision with a mercenary ship spinning out of control. “Watch the targeting sequence. It’s faster and more accurate, but it is still Byorn’s pattern.”

  His mate’s cousin was also making maximum use of the Ylydii’s powerful pulse cannons. With help from the strafers, they would soon turn the mercenary ambush ships into nothing but a very large debris field.

  “If he and an Ylydii pilot have taken control of the vessel, then there is a reason they are flying it away from the ambassador’s fleet,” Shon transmitted.

  Onkar mentally raced through everything he knew about mercenary tactics in space. Unlike military troops, they often committed unpardonable acts to achieve their aims and collect their bounties. “The intruders may have planted explosive devices on the ship.”

  “Scanning.” There was a long silence before Saree came back with, “No energy spikes, and the stardrive core reads normal. If you want to dust an entire fleet, you have to use the core, and you have to rig it in advance.”

  “Perhaps Burn doesn’t know that, and has no way to tell,” Shon suggested. “He may be erring on the side of caution.”

  Saree snorted. “That I should like to witness.”

  Onkar felt suddenly impatient with the wing leader’s open contempt for his mate’s cousin. “It is true that Byorn has barely grown into his skin, but he knows how to think like a soldier.”

  “When he’s not behaving like a scar-hungry child,” the wing leader said.

  “Boarding an occupied vessel and finding the means to take control of it takes more than brawn,” Shon broke in, his tone mild. “Shall we concentrate on how we can help him?”

  Saree clikked a terse apology to the other ’Zangians. “We should flush out the remainder of the mercenaries and drive them to Byorn.”

  “Agreed.” Onkar ended the relay and checked his fuel reserves before asking for a weapons status.

  Curonal, who was serving as Onkar’s gunner, looked up from his console. “That last blast we took disabled the aft ’torp launcher. Displacer power cells at eighty percent. Primary engines, thrusters, and stardrive intact and online. Dr. Dloh reports the evac team is not happy but otherwise remains uninjured.”

  In the heat of battle Onkar had forgotten about the medical crew, who were harnessed back in the modified cargo hold. He switched on the ship’s intercom. “I apologize for the rough ride, Doctor. We’re presently engaging mercenary raiders and attempting to assist the Ylydii ambassador’s vessel.”

  “Underztood.” There was the sound of someone regurgitating in the background. “Zome of our people are a little motion zick, but iz there anything the rezt of uz can do to help?”

  Onkar admired the Aksellan physician, who had served as a medevac doctor since Bio Rescue had been initiated. Despite many rousing adventures and real brushes with death, the arachnid never seemed to lose his composure. “Please prepare to receive injured. As soon as we’ve neutralized the ambush, there will likely be many.”

  “Acknowledged, Zubcommander.”

  Onkar dropped into attack position behind the patrol. Unlike the strafers, Rescue Three was of Hsktskt design, a gstek-class raider built to acquire multiple targets and destroy them. It once had carried more firepower than all of the other patrol ships combined, and had easily razed more than one large colony from the surface of a planet. Now stripped down and renovated to serve as a medevac transport, the gstek still maintained enough ordnance on board to pulverize an asteroid into dust.

  “Charge displacer array and ready ’torps,” Onkar told Curonal. “Prepare to fire combined spread.”

  Like the gstek, Onkar had once been a lone, dangerous force. Living a rogue’s existence in the outer currents required he attack and destroy an enemy with every ounce of cunning and strength. Joining the coastal pod and mating with Jadaira had gentled much of what the years of solitary violence had made of him, but not all.

  Now he drew on that instinctive viciousness and looked ahead through the eyes of a killer at the mercenary ships, which were moving into new positions. “Belay firing order.”

  “Yes, sir.” Curonal sequenced his panel to standby. “I don’t recommend firing, not with the way they’re sucking on to Burn.”

  Onkar studied the navigational screen, which displayed the position of all the ships within three hundred kim. A bright cluster of red around blue showed how the mercenary ships had regrouped: in very close proximity to the hull of the Ylydii ship. Burn was firing on the ships that weren’t close enough to damage his own, but few strayed out far enough for him to target. Anyone firing on them also risked hitting the Ylydii ship instead.

  “Parasites.” Onkar engaged the secondary engines and selected his route. “Do you remember those close-impact avoidance patterns we used to practice at the academy?”

  Curonal answered with a groan.

  “I thought you might.” The ship responded instantly to the surge of power Onkar sent through the engines, and jumped through the center of the patrol and out into the margin of space between them and the Ylydii vessel. “Wing Leader, I’m taking point.”

  “Acknowledged. Keep your fins down, Subcommander,” Saree transmitted back.

  Although Onkar was sure that there was an Ylydii pilot flying the ship, he counted on Burn recognizing his flight pattern and advising the pilot how to respond to it. All the Ylydii had to do was make no course adjustments and Onkar would take care of the rest.

  “Impact in two minutes,” Curonal warned him.

  It took more than a little spine to fly on a head-on collision course with another, larger ship, and it was not a maneuver recommended for use by League pilots. It required complete focus from the gunner, and zero margin for error by the pilot. Eighty percent of the starjocs who had attempted it in the Academy’s trainers lost their nerve in midflight, and generally ended spiraling off
in a breakaway, during which they either missed their targets or were fired on and destroyed themselves.

  Knowing how dangerous it was, Onkar had seldom used the maneuver, but when he had, he had never deviated from his course. If Burn could maintain control over his pilot, then it would work.

  If he didn’t, they were all going to die.

  That ship is flying straight at us, Liana told Burn, staring at the bright green light on her panel. It’s a Hsktskt raider, why won’t you shoot it?

  We reclaimed four Hsktskt raiders and turned them into medevac ships, he told her. Maintain present course and speed.

  This is madness. She hadn’t survived being boarded and captured to die from an easily avoided collision. I can’t allow your crazy medical people to destroy our ship.

  That pilot isn’t medical or crazy, he assured her. He’s my cousin’s mate, and one of the best starjocs in the League. Next to me, anyway. The ship will be fine. Stay on this heading.

  Liana closed her eyes for a moment. He might be large and powerful, but he wasn’t female. She had never flown with a male even allowed to be present at the helm without strict supervision. And what did this ’Zangian really know of battle strategy and ship maneuvers? Were her mother here, she would be shrieking at Liana to stop pandering to the simpleminded and take over command of the situation before everyone on the ship died.

  Of course, her mother wasn’t here, and Burn had brought her this far. He had used their pulse cannons to destroy four of the ambush ships. Now he claimed that the pilot of the Hsktskt raider was kin and that he knew what he was doing. Were it not for him, she might still be in restraints, breathing in water tainted with Nerala’s blood, or have been killed by the mercenaries.

  The mercenaries Burn had tried to render unconscious and then killed.

  She eased her fins back from the navigational console and left the ship at its present speed and course. If you are wrong, ’Zangian, I will make you regret it.

  If I am wrong, Liana, he told her, you won’t have to. Liana had trained in Ylydii ship simulators—all royals did, in the event they had to take command of a transport—but she had never flown a real vessel. The equipment was very similar, but there was always the knowledge that a simulator could be switched off and exited.

  Here there was no stopping or leaving. No dodging or evading. It was only too horribly real.

  Collision impact in three minutes, she announced.

  Preparing pulse cannons for stream fire, he told her. Lock flight controls and override proximity sensors.

  Acknowledged. Liana punched in the codes that would keep the ship from automatically avoiding the collision. A polite drone voice informed her of the imminent impact, but she switched the audio off. She glanced back at Burn. Could you eject the stardrive? Just in the event you are wrong?

  He looked up from the weapons panel. I’m not wrong. I’m never wrong.

  I see. She wouldn’t point out the deaths of the mercenaries; that would have been a petty and unnecessary swipe. The Hsktskt raider was now visible and headed straight at them. I hope your mate appreciates what a valuable male she has.

  She will someday, when I get around to taking a mate. For now I’m content with annoying my commander and aggravating my pod.

  Males cannot take mates, Liana told him, shuddering at the scandalous thought. They are taken.

  I suppose on your world you chase down the males and force them to breed with you, Burn said, clearly enjoying the most inappropriate conversation Liana had ever held in her life.

  There is no need to chase or force them, she replied. They are eager to be bred. It is their purpose. These things are never discussed. Males do not understand the importance of such matters.

  Burn blew some air through his gillets, producing an odd sound. Have you ever explained why it is important to them, or do you prefer keeping them agreeable and compliant through your dominance and their ignorance?

  Males do not question females on our world, nor would they comprehend an explanation for our decisions. They do not have the mentality to process such concepts. Her attention moved back to the image of the gstek raider, which was rapidly filling up the screen. In thirty seconds it will be too late to avoid that ship. Are you sure we cannot change course?

  You’ll have to rely on me and my inferior mentality, Liana. He became busy with the weapons panel, but added, ’Zangian males and females are partners. We have different responsibilities within the pod, and males are dominant to females during breeding, but the rest of the time we cooperate and help each other. I need you to be ’Zangian now, and trust me.

  That made her angry. If I did not trust you, Sublieutenant, I would have locked out your panel controls and rendered you unconscious. What do you want me to do?

  Rescue Three will skim the starboard hull and fire on the ships it drives out of there, he said. When they’re clear, I need you to bring the engines to full stop.

  The distraction of the raider combined with such an abrupt maneuver would cause the ambush ships using the portside of the ship for cover to stray out ahead of them. They might turn and fire on us.

  They’ll never have the chance.

  Something in his voice reached inside her, Liana decided. Reached like the calming hand of a parent. It was every bit as potent as luresong, and the fact that it came from a male was only slightly more surprising than the effect it had on her.

  She had never been swayed by the voice of another. Not even her mother.

  I am a little afraid, she told him. If this is the end for us—

  —then we shall go from here together, he finished for her. Into the deep and the dark, I will remain at your side.

  Liana turned to face the oncoming ship and held on to his promise. If these were her last moments, she would go with dignity, and trust that her strange new comrade would be with her.

  The ’Zangian medevac ship was upon them.

  At the last possible moment before impact, the gstek flipped on its side, presenting a much narrower profile as it reached the starboard hull. Liana jerked anyway, expecting the worst, but the deck around them remained intact, the ship’s course steady. Bright flashes off to the right of the viewer panel indicated close fire.

  Three ships in one pass, Burn muttered, as if to himself. Duo, Onkar, you should have been a gunner. To Liana he said, Full stop as soon as he’s clear.

  Acknowledged. Liana tracked the raider, and as soon as it was safely past the hull, she reversed the engines and brought the ship to a violent stop. Several mercenary ships shot out ahead of their position, and then began breaking up as pulse cannon fire hit them.

  Beautiful, Lady, Burn said as he continued to fire the cannons. Two more. No, one. I have you, you scum-eater.

  Liana watched the screens as the last ship was cut in half. The two sections hurtled apart before they imploded, and debris occluded the viewer. It took two sweeps before she believed what her panels were showing. You did it. She looked back at Burn. You were right, you really did it.

  We did, he told her. Anytime you want to pilot me around this system, Lady, I’m your gunner.

  Liana started to reply, but cringed as a violent impact blew in the helm door panel. Burn was out of his harness and over the console before Liana could stop him.

  No, Burn, no, she said, shrugging out of her own harness and swimming forward to face the other female. This is not one of the intruders.

  Who is this? the other female demanded, shoving Burn out of her way with some difficulty before inspecting the scene outside the ship, shown on the view screen. What have you done? Liana, explain yourself.

  We engaged the enemy and saved the ship, she told her before turning to Burn. This is Ambassador Carada. Ambassador, this is Sublieutenant Byorn mu Znora—

  Burn swam around Carada and pinned the small figure that had appeared behind her to the wall panel. And who is this?

  That would be my personal assistant, Miglan, Carada told him in her iciest tone. Remove yourself
from him, if you please.

  Liana nodded at Burn. He will not harm us.

  The ’Zangian backed away from the small, terrified Ylydii male. My apologies. I thought you were a threat. Miglan, is it?

  The little Ylydii male squeaked and hurried back to Carada’s side, where he inserted himself under the protection of her broad pectoral fin and peered out fearfully at Burn.

  Carada stared out at the debris field left by the destroyed mercenary ships before whirling around and regarding Liana. I dislike repeating myself. Tell me precisely what you have done.

  As always, what must be done to preserve life, she said, and lifted her gaze to meet the outrage in Carada’s. Just as you told me to. Mother.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I am going to the Point this morning,” Teresa told T’Kafanitana when the N-jui reported for her shift at the lab in Teresa’s land dwelling. “Would you keep an eye out for that probe we launched yesterday? It should be sending in a signal any time now.”

  “Yes, Doctor.” The chemist moved to take her place at the monitoring console, and then hesitated. “Are you meeting Captain Argate at Burantee?”

  “No, I’m going to break the news about our ’shrike hunt to Dairatha.” Teresa picked up the case of vids and datapads she had packed to show her mate. T’Kaf’s face appeared as impassive as ever, but there were other, tiny signs that her lab chief wasn’t altogether happy. “What’s wrong?”

  “I do not care for Captain Argate.”

  “Neither do I, but we can use him.” She adjusted the strap of the case and slung it over her shoulder. “Think of him as a necessary evil.”

  “Evil is not necessary.” T’Kaf made a sweeping gesture with two of her limbs. “It is deceptive, and destructive.”

  Teresa was surprised by the vehemence backing the chemist’s statement. “You really don’t like him.”

  “He is not what he appears to be,” the chemist said, very slowly. “His interest in you and our work is not altruistic, and his motives are suspicious. He is not a male to be trusted.”