Decker's War Omnibus 1

by Eric Thomson

  “Yup. A few hours and we lift. Have a lovely evening.”

  The kid snapped to attention. “You too, sir.”

  Decker’s short conversation with the young spacer had done much to raise his flagging spirits, and he caught himself whistling a tune by the time he reached his cabin, after meeting what seemed like half the crew in the passageways. Yup, Shokoten was home all rights, rough crew, contraband cargo and all.

  *

  “Heaven's Gate control to Shokoten, you are cleared for take-off as number one. Be advised of small craft traffic near your authorized flight path up to ten thousand.” Zack raised his eyebrows in surprise at the announcement. They must be crazy to fly at night and in this weather. “Report to orbital control when passing thirty thousand. Have a successful trip.”

  “Shokoten to Control, thank you and goodbye,” Captain Strachan replied, “Nav, confirm course is laid in and has been accepted.”

  “Confirmed.”

  “All systems green, sir,” First Officer Darhad chimed in from her console to Strachan's right.

  “Helm, keel thrusters on. Increase gradually until you have neutral lift.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  A rumbling ran through the freighter's hull as the atmospheric thrusters powered up. Pillars of steam rose from the runway, shrouding Shokoten and cutting off her view of the city. She lurched a bit, and Zack knew the landing struts had left the ground.

  “Hovering at two meters, sir,” the senior helmsman said in a tense voice.

  “Take her up to one thousand, stand by aft thrusters.”

  “One thousand, aft thrusters online, aye.”

  This time, they felt the change in motion as the ship rose vertically, leaving a column of steam behind and giving the crew a last glimpse of Heaven's Gate before the low cloud cover swallowed them.

  “Nine hundred.”

  “Aft thrusters on.”

  “Aft thrusters on, aye. Passing one thousand. We are on the plotted lift course, sir.”

  “Thank you, helm. Well done.”

  *

  Lift-off was always difficult for a ship the size of Shokoten. A sudden, strong wind shear when she was still close to the ground could spell disaster. But, as Zack learned, Strachan’s bridge crew was good at its job.

  As they sailed upwards out of Aramis’ troposphere, into her stratosphere and beyond, where the blue of the sky gave way to the black of space, the gunner amused himself by tracking the planet’s defensive setup. He played little mind games on how he’d outwit them, should he need to land Shokoten unseen.

  Like most human worlds, Aramis had its own defense force independent of the Fleet. And like most defense forces, this one was competent but not enough for a Pathfinder. By the time Shokoten left the planet, released by orbital control, he had figured out not one but four possible infiltration routes.

  *

  “I think we need to stay at a higher level of vigilance from about ten light years before the border until we're well past Kardat and the rest of the marauder hideouts.” Zack pointed at the star map on Strachan’s desk. “That means the gun systems are live, the shields are up at all times, and the crew lives in battledress. Plus, we keep a qualified hand on the sensors at all times.”

  “It will require expanding the watches to fill the added tasks,” Darhad noted, “but I have no problems with the gunner's suggestion. It makes eminent sense to be prepared.”

  “Agreed. Raisa, post the orders and re-jig the watches.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “I wish to discuss another matter, while I have both of you here.” Zack and Raisa nodded. It had become Strachan's habit to take Decker into his confidence alongside the first officer, and such a statement no longer surprised him. “I have received sealed instructions from our owners that supersede the instructions given at the Guild exchange.”

  Decker raised his eyebrows in surprise. There was little doubt Strachan meant orders from their real owners.

  “We are no longer stopping at Rhada, our original destination,” Strachan continued, “but sailing on towards the core for a planet called Ventos Prime, about fifty light years beyond Rhada on a direct flight path.”

  “Why?” Zack was curious. It tacked another week or more to their trip. He had never heard of Ventos Prime for that matter.

  “No idea. Seems the deal they had on Rhada fell through. I guess it’s a bit of luck that they found a new buyer and seller relatively close by.” Strachan sounded unconcerned about an even longer trip beyond the borders of the Commonwealth.

  Zack carefully schooled his expression, but his mind was filling with questions. Ventos Prime was a distant destination for a cargo of low-grade tech. Who knew what they’d be hauling back from a planet few had ever heard about.

  Darhad caught his mental agitation but refrained from commenting. Instead, she asked, “Will we resupply along the way? That distance will strain our stores. We are not a survey cruiser.”

  “I've been told that someone on Ventos Prime can provide us with enough perishables to keep an adequate safety margin for the return trip.”

  This time, Darhad raised her eyebrows, merging their upswept tips with her crimson hair.

  “I had not realized Ventos Prime had a ship's chandlery business equipped to deal with humans.”

  “All I know is that I have my orders,” Strachan replied, eyes hardening. His tone brooked no further discussion, and that surprised Decker as much as anything else had. He normally treated his first officer with much more tolerance, at least in front of his gunner. The captain didn't seem overly pleased with this trip. Was it the distance, or was there something else?

  “That will be all.”

  Decker and Darhad rose, acknowledging the dismissal.

  *

  “What's eating him?” Zack asked her when they were alone in the passageway.

  “I believe our captain is most unhappy about the change in orders. I also think his secret instructions contain much more than he has told us. Maybe we shall find out when we arrive, maybe not. Put it out of your mind, for there is nothing we can do.”

  Zack smiled at her resigned tone and briefly touched her. He hurriedly dropped his hand when Nihao Kiani appeared. She gave the two of them a strange look before she vanished into the captain's cabin.

  “There's someone who will be just as unhappy about this news,” the gunner chuckled. “She won’t like the thought of dealing with supplies on a planet we've never been to. Heck, make that most humans have never been to. Do we have anything on the place in our data banks?”

  “I shall verify. But I doubt it. Data costs creds and we don’t have the cash to spare for exotic bits of information, such as a planet that far from the regular trading routes. All we likely have are the coordinates and basic contact instructions.”

  “Huh.” Zack frowned. “How the hell will we deal with people about whom we know nothing?”

  “Perhaps we’ll be met by a human or at least an agent hired by humans, whose role is to handle the transactions. We shall find out when the time is ripe, no doubt. I must conduct my daily inspection now. Until lunch.” Her lips briefly twitched as she blew him a discreet kiss.

  *

  Shokoten sped on, coming out of the hyperspace currents every so often to recalibrate the hyperdrives and plot the next jump. They passed the border without incident and without sighting a patrol ship. The Navy was hard pressed in this sector, and their frigates were widely dispersed to cover as much space as possible.

  Then they passed through the Badlands: pirate havens, techno barbarian kingdoms and assorted riff-raff with the pretensions to high tech status. The Shield Cluster was the Fleet's nightmare and a treasure trove of illegal profits for anyone with the means to exploit them. Slavery was rife and skilled humans fetched the highest prices; the drug trade flourished, and markets for plundered goods of all kinds abounded.

  A ship like Shokoten was an attractive target even if she was well armed, and it paid t
o be prudent. Decker slept easier when the worst of those worlds were far in their wake. Marauders tended to operate between the Cluster and the Commonwealth where high-end shipping was densest.

  The length of the trip, however, began to tell on the crew by the time they passed the Rhada system. They were not used to such long runs without setting a foot ashore, and life in the cramped quarters of a ship without recreational facilities became tedious. More than once, Zack had to break up arguments that got out of hand, but he could do nothing to ease the underlying cause, which was boredom and acute cabin fever, mixed with knowing they were very far from home.

  He kept himself busy with physical training when he could no longer find any duties to keep his hands and mind occupied. With Strachan's permission, he converted a small, unused cargo hold in the upper hull into a gym, scratch building the exercise gear and tinkering with the room's gravity. Word spread, and soon, Nihao Kiani, Raisa Darhad, Fourth Officer Gareth and the bosun joined him whenever they could.

  *

  “You know,” he said one afternoon, when he and Nihao were alone in the mini-gym, “the one thing I miss is the martial arts sessions we used to have aboard Musashi. Pumping iron and skipping rope in high gee is fine to build up muscle, but doesn't do shit for reflexes.”

  He laid down his improvised barbell and wiped the sweat from his brow. Nihao glanced at him with her usual bland expression and, never missing a stroke, kept on skipping as she replied.

  “I can offer you with an adequate sparring partner in judo, tae-kwon-do, karate, and aikido.”

  Zack ran his eyes over her tall, muscular body and nodded, a grin spreading on his face. She looked tough enough to give him a decent fight.

  “Okay, kid. What and when?”

  “When is now. What is whatever you wish.”

  “Aikido?”

  “Agreed.” She stopped skipping and coiled up the rope. “I suggest you bring the gravity back to normal, or we may inflict permanent injury on each other.”

  They cleared out a fighting space in the center and laid out a thick rubber mat normally used to cushion fragile cargo.

  Standing at opposing ends of the mutually agreed arena, they came to attention and bowed stiffly at each other. Then, they took up a fighting stance and circled, looking for an opening. Nihao's eyes never left Zack's, and the gunner found himself forced to judge his moment by trusting his peripheral vision and whatever he could read in the purser's impassive face, which was absolutely nothing.

  She struck first, throwing Zack off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. He rolled, absorbing the punishing fall, but didn't rise fast enough. Nihao's bare foot came out of nowhere and slammed down towards his throat, stopping within millimeters of crushing it. Zack conceded the point.

  They faced each other again, circling, and Nihao attempted a similar trick, but this time, Zack was ready. He blocked her move and then used her momentum to put in one of his own. With a grunt, Decker threw her down and pounced as she tried to roll away. Catching her with his right arm, he struggled to establish a chokehold. Kiani let out a fighting yell and threw him off with surprising strength.

  They scrambled up and resumed the slow dance, wise now to each other's abilities. Zack tried a lightning attack and completed half the movement, getting his body into position near her to deliver a disabling stroke, when she lashed out with a leg. He would never have been able to see it coming: she had such absolute control over her body and eyes.

  The foot connected with Zack's solar plexus, slamming the air out of his lungs. He fell backwards and landed badly, both the kick and the fall stunning him. Nihao was on him in a flash, her strong right arm tightening around his neck, and there was nothing he could do.

  Black dots danced before his eyes, and he slapped the mat in the universal signal of surrender, but her grip didn't loosen. His vision blurred, and he heard a ringing in his ears.

  Finally, just as he was about to pass out, she released him, letting his head drop on the mat. Another face replaced Kiani's sweaty brow

  “Are you all right, Mister Decker?”

  Zack blinked once or twice, and Raisa Darhad's worried frown swam before his eyes.

  “Okay,” he croaked. “Just a friendly bout.”

  “I would suggest Mister Kiani needs to learn a bit more about setting the right limits,” she replied, speaking in a louder tone for the benefit of the stone-faced purser. “Martial arts are as much about control as they're about fighting. Or do I have a wrong idea about your human practices?”

  “No, sir,” Kiani replied.

  “Let it be,” Zack said as he rose, rubbing his chest and neck. “I was outclassed by someone who is obviously sensei. That'll teach me to assume a civilian spacer isn't as highly trained as a Marine.”

  “Well met, Nihao.” He bowed. After a few moments hesitation, as if she suspected him of sarcasm instead of taking the words at their face value, she returned the bow.

  “You must teach me how you manage not to telegraph your moves. I didn't see that kick coming. You could've killed me right there and then, had this been for real.”

  She bowed slightly again, an ironic smile playing on her lips. “I could have killed you, had I not exercised self-control.”

  Darhad's lips tightened, but she held her peace.

  Zack picked up his towel and wiped his face.

  “This did me a lot of good, even if it hurt like hell.” He grinned at the two women. “We must do this again another time, Nihao. I’m always ready to learn from my betters.” He nodded at Darhad. “If you’ll excuse me, First Officer. I think I’ll go lick my wounds in private now.”

  *

  Later, in the shower, Zack watched a large, purple bruise spread over his chest and remembered her choke hold. She'd been a lot rougher than usual in a sparring match, and could easily have killed him had she held on to his neck for much longer. That thought brought on another, less pleasant one.

  Did she let go because she knew it was time, or because Raisa walked in on them? He did tap the mat a few times. And why would Nihao Kiani want to harm him, if that was the case?

  His train of thought broke when Kiani stuck her head into the small shower cubicle.

  “Don't take all day in there, Zack, or I shall throw you out.”

  “Come in and join me.”

  “Very well.” She opened the door and stepped in.

  The stall was so small their bodies filled it almost completely, and Zack couldn't avoid touching her, with the expected results. To his astonishment she grabbed him and guided him in, releasing a soft sigh as they joined. Her lips crushed his, and their tongues met. She was utterly different from Raisa: heavier, stronger, wilder, and more demanding.

  Where the Arkanna shared with Zack, giving and taking, Kiani only took greedily. But she felt good nonetheless. Until that is after they climaxed, and Zack remembered that he had a previous engagement with one Raisa Darhad.

  I guess I can always say that I was raped by Nihao, he thought, feeling weak-kneed. He disentangled himself and grinned at her.

  “Thanks for that unexpected bout of the post-combat sport. For what it's worth, I'd rather do this than fight you. Anytime you want a rematch...”

  She smiled back, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

  “I suggest we rinse off and head to our appointed duties,” she replied, all business again.

  And I love you too, kid. Zack felt irritated at her off-hand tone. He didn't expect declarations of undying lust, but somehow, she had made him feel used.

  Without another word, they washed and returned to the cabin. For the rest of the day, Kiani acted as if nothing had happened. Zack, however, on closer reflection, wondered about her. Did the bout of martial arts turn her on, or was it the sight of his and Darhad's growing intimacy? They made no secret of their relationship, even if they kept it off Shokoten.

  Whatever it was, he realized that he would be better off without a repeat performance, no matter how depri
ved he became. Something about Nihao was definitely bothering him.

  Soon enough, Decker had more pressing issues to deal with. During the night watch, Shokoten came out of hyperspace in the Ventos system. Less than twelve tense hours later, the freighter slipped into orbit around the distant, alien world.

  Eleven

  “It's pretty close to Earth norm, Captain,” the gunner reported, a hint of doubt in his voice. “But there are trace gases and pollution in the atmosphere I don't like. Plus, there are a lot of radiation hot spots on the surface, more of them and warmer than you'd expect to occur naturally.”

  That wasn't all Decker had seen from orbit, using the ship's scanners. Ventos Prime was hot, dry, its two huge landmasses parched.

  It also showed evidence of multiple nuclear strikes, small ones to be sure, and mainly concentrated on one of the two large continents, but enough to poison the atmosphere and the ground for centuries. He couldn't tell how old the strikes were, but he was willing to bet it would still be a long time before the craters down there stopped bombarding nature with stray gamma rays.

  “Looks like the natives enjoy lobbing tac nukes at each other,” he continued. “Have we recived landing coordinates? I'd like to take a closer look for anything that might make our hair and teeth fall out. This isn't a healthy place if you ask me.”

  “Nothing yet, Gunner. You'll be the first to know,” Strachan replied with an irritated frown. Darhad threw Zack a warning glance.

  Decker shrugged and returned to his scanners. Tweaking their output beyond the manufacturer's specs, he focused on a major center of life on the most bombarded continent, which he had called, for lack of a better name, Continent One. Frowning, he fed the results through Shokoten's computer and waited. His frown deepened when the machine spat out its analysis.

  Life, definitely, but it isn't humanoid. Not even close. Nothing in the data banks match. And there's a hell of a lot of 'em. Over two million within a single square kilometer. That can't be right! Ah, I see. Multi-layered underground city. Sort of like a hive.