by Eric Thomson
“Do we need to talk about it here or can we do it in the saloon? It’s just that I think I’ve earned a nice gin and tonic for my masterful display of convoy captaincy.”
“By all means.” Zack swept his arm towards the door. “I’ll even mix it myself. Lots of gin, a drop of tonic and half a lemon, right?”
“If you can find an actual lemon aboard, I’ll be seriously impressed,” she replied, leading the exodus from the bridge, “but please, reverse the proportions. Compared to some ex-Marines I know, I’m a smallish female whose capacity for booze is rather limited.”
“And you’re no fun drunk anyway.” Decker winked at Kidder, whose slightly embarrassed smile seemed almost comical.
“So,” Talyn said once the drinks had been passed out, “your sensors picked up something useful about our pursuers?”
She took a sip and nodded approvingly.
“Sure.” Decker pulled up a chair and sat at the head of the table. “Those weren’t your average, low-rent marauders. I’m about ninety percent sure they’re our friendly neighborhood Confederacy of the Howling Stars.”
“Jackals?” Talyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when do they chase honest starships? As far as I know, there hasn’t been a single instance of piracy ever traced back to the Confederacy. They’re too smart to engage in the one activity that’ll have the Navy come down on them like the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
“How did you figure that out, Zack?” Steiger asked, sounding skeptical.
“They were a bit too hasty covering up their colors. I caught just enough of a marking to let the AI fill in the blanks.”
“That makes it even more interesting,” Talyn said. “The Jackals aren’t known for their modesty. Covering up their colors isn’t standard procedure.”
“Neither is running down a freighter for shits and giggles.”
“I’ll have to speak with Roste when we drop out of FTL.” Verrill’s mouth was set in a hard line. “The most obvious motive is the ordnance he’s carrying, which means our operational security might have been compromised.”
“Perhaps it would help if we knew where Roste is coming from,” Decker suggested.
The rebel leader bit his lower lip while he considered the proposal, then shook his head.
“Sorry. It’s need to know and at this time, you don’t.”
“Fair enough.” Decker drained his bottle and stood. “You can stay here if you want, but for us, it’s bed time.”
Once they were safely ensconced in their cabin and far from curious ears, Talyn sighed.
“This is getting increasingly messy. Is the Confederacy pursuing the Garonne rebels on orders of the Sécurité Spéciale? Or are they operating on their own behalf because they got wind of juicy weaponry and figure the Navy won’t bother them if they take a few insurgents out of the picture?”
Decker stripped down to his birthday suit and grinned at Talyn.
“Maybe a game of hide the soap will loosen the old brain cells. C’mon.”
“Why?”
“Because it relaxes me and when I’m relaxed, I can think more clearly.”
“I suppose it’s worth the aggravation of playing in a confined space just to see you get an original thought.”
“That’s my girl.”
He put his arm around her waist and swept her into the shower stall.
**
Decker found Verrill, Steiger and Kidder speaking in low tones around a jug of fresh coffee a few hours later.
“Good morning or whatever time of the day it is.” He reached over Kidder’s shoulder to grab the carafe and poured himself a mug. “Telling tall tales to pass the time?”
“We were brainstorming why the Confederacy might have latched on to Roste’s ship.” Verrill didn’t look like he’d had any restful sleep.
“Bad luck?” Zack took a sip and grimaced at the bitter taste. “Someone spoke too much in a place where the walls have ears? Usually, when the bad guys decide to focus their attention on a particular ship, it’s because someone talked out of turn.”
He scratched the side of his face and frowned.
“Of course, sometimes, the bad guys put a ringer on board who figures out the what, where and when for his buddies. Sometimes, they even...”
“You’re a bucket of cheer, aren’t you just?” Steiger said, shaking her head.
“Yep,” he nodded, smiling, “and, as I was about to say, sometimes they even blackmail or buy off a senior officer to throw the game.”
“Blackmail?” Talyn asked, entering the saloon with a smile to match Zack’s. “What are we discussing? The reason why we have the Jackals on our collective asses?”
“You two look disgustingly cheerful, you know that, right?” Steiger made a face at them. “Obviously, your night was better than ours.”
“A gentleman never tells.” Zack winked at the mercenary.
“I can’t see Roste either betraying us or being that lax with security,” Verrill said. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s reliable, committed, and far from stupid. Besides, he’ll have vetted the freighter’s crew very carefully.”
“Everyone has a weak spot,” Decker replied. “Until you can see his face, you won’t know whether someone’s pushed hard on him or one of his folks, or whether it was just bad luck.”
“We’ll have to make the interval quick,” Talyn reminded them. “Just long enough to re-sync navigation and retune the hyperdrives. I figure it’ll be a few jumps before we can shake off any pursuit. If you want to speak with your man while we’re sublight, sure, but the moment all ships are ready, we’re off again.”
“You seem to have taken control of my operation without much of a by your leave, Captain Pasek.”
“You hired us to escort you safely to Garonne. I’m earning my pay, Ser Verrill. If you’d like to override me and thereby put us in jeopardy, it will nullify our contract. Your call.”
“Speaking of blackmail...” Steiger’s smile was more than a little sarcastic. “I know, I know – your ship, your rules.”
“Your lives, actually, honey.” Zack blew her a kiss.
Talyn poured herself a coffee, and then nudged Decker.
“If you’re through flirting with the passengers, we have to get ready. The countdown clock is at thirty minutes. I’ll need to know where the others are the moment you’re done swallowing your stomach. They’ll probably have drifted, even on a relatively short leg.”
She paused for a moment and looked at the others.
“The three of you are welcome to join us with the usual caveats that you find a seat and stay there, and that you vacate instantly and without question the moment either of us says so.”
“Most gracious of you, Captain.” Verrill inclined his head. “Please believe that I’m grateful for the way you handled our swift departure from the rendezvous point.”
She dismissed his thanks with a wave of the hand.
“All part of the service.”
Then she vanished down the passageway, Decker in tow.
“Fascinating woman, that,” Verrill commented to no one in particular before following the two operatives.
**
Decker swallowed convulsively when the FTL bubble dissolved around them and Phoenix returned to normal space. He focused on the sensor readout, eyes blurry for the few seconds it took his vision to clear.
“We’re not in a tight formation if that’s what you wanted to know,” he reported, “but everyone’s within reasonable distance except for Clio, Roste’s ship. He’s well behind us, further now than he was when we jumped. There’s nothing else within sensor range.”
“Transmit orders to Clio: accelerate and reduce the gap,” Talyn replied, “remainder to maneuver in on us.”
“Done,” Zack said a few moments later. “And no arguments.”
He swiveled his chair to face Verrill.
“If you’d like to speak with Roste, now’s the time.”
“Could I take it in private?”
/>
“Sorry, no. This is a matter concerning our collective safety. You’ll take it here,” Talyn said in a tone that dared him to argue. “You have twenty-five minutes.”
“Perhaps I should be doing this in person rather than over the comnet.” Verrill sounded less than enthusiastic.
“We don’t have time to send you over to Clio, though we do have time for you to return to Marilan if you leave now. You can even take Steiger and Kidder with you, but keep in mind that if Clio does anything to jeopardize the rest of the convoy, I’ll let Zack do a bit of target practice.”
Verrill’s face turned ashen when the implications of Talyn’s statement sank in, but before he could speak, the AI chimed insistently for attention.
“Nope,” Decker said after checking the sensor readout. “No one’s shifting ship this time around. Our howling buddies just dropped out of FTL, or to be more precise, they dropped out of FTL almost a minute ago.”
“How much time do we have?” Talyn asked, eyes darting to the hyperdrive status readout.
“Twenty minutes, tops. They’re accelerating like stink.”
“Let the others know. I’m pushing new navigation data through now.”
“I wish we had some mines aboard,” Decker remarked in a conversational tone. “Mind you, it would probably take me no more than fifteen minutes to rig a pair of missiles so they do pretty much the same thing. If the buggers don’t scan carefully, we might just give them a headache or two.”
“No.” Talyn shook her head vehemently. “So far, no one has shot on anyone else. We’ll keep it that way. I don’t know what the Jackals want, but I do know that poking at them won’t help the situation one single bit.”
“Roger that,” Zack replied. “I’ll just ping them with the targeting sensor. No harm in that and it might get them to fire their braking thrusters.”
“If it amuses you, be my guest. After all, the universe exists for your enjoyment.”
Decker smiled at the three rebels.
“That’s why I love the lady, folks. She’s always thinking of my pleasure first.”
His infectious grin suddenly vanished.
“Clio is warning of problems with the hyperdrives. It might take them a bit longer to spool up.”
“What?” Talyn turned to look at him, incredulity writ large on her fine features. “Tell those idiots to sort it. We jump at the moment I tell them to jump. If they’re not ready, they can invite the Jackals aboard for tea and crumpets.”
“I’ll do you one better,” Zack replied. He touched his screen and re-opened the link. “Clio this is Phoenix, the convoy is jumping on schedule. If you’re unable to follow, I will destroy you so that the material you’re carrying doesn’t fall into unfriendly hands. Phoenix, out.”
He ended the transmission with a sharp gesture.
“There, that should motivate them to get going.” He touched a control. “If someone’s paying attention aboard Clio, they’ll realize that I’ve just locked weapons on them.”
Verrill was half out of his seat, face contorted with a mixture of fear and anger.
“Good God, man, you can’t just destroy her and kill everyone aboard.”
“Of course not.” Decker held up a placating hand. “But it’s a better motivator than being told they’d be left behind. How they respond is going to tell us a lot about what’s going on.”
Verrill dropped back into the chair, perplexed. Steiger was the first to catch on and laughed, at first softly and then with more gusto.
“You’re a right bastard, Decker,” she said after regaining control of her merriment.
“My parents were married, thank you very much,” he replied in an aggrieved tone.
“Sure.” Her face twisted into a smirk. “But not to each other, I’ll bet.”
Decker made an obscene gesture in her direction, but he was smiling broadly.
“What friend Miko seems to have figured out is that my motivator might result in a miraculously quick repair because there was nothing wrong with the engines, just our timing to get out of here.”
“Still suspicious of Roste.” Verrill shook his head. “I just can’t see it, but maybe I’m too naïve.”
“Alternately, if they really have problems but aren’t screaming blue bloody murder, it might be because they know the Jackals won’t do anything nasty to them. But don’t mind me.” The Marine shrugged and turned back to his console. “I have a very suspicious nature. It comes from associating too much with very shady characters, present company included.”
“We’ve cycled through,” Talyn announced, “but the others haven’t yet. Did the gentle beings of the Confederacy bother to transmit anything yet?”
“Nope. They must figure that since we gave them the finger last time, it wasn’t worth their while. They’ve begun decelerating, but I’m still not picking up anything to indicate they’re targeting someone or preparing to unleash the awesome power of whatever crappy weaponry they crammed into those narrow hulls.”
“If it’s that crappy, why not just wipe them off the face of the galaxy?” Kidder asked.
“Because the boss said I couldn’t. Plus I don’t want to waste ammo on guys who aren’t even threatening me, let alone shooting.”
“And if we fire first,” Talyn chimed in, “they’ll be claiming they were navigating peacefully when some maniac in a ship with a dodgy registration number tried to blow them away. It might attract the kind of attention none of us wants.”
With that, silence descended on the bridge while a countdown timer ticked away in the lower right corner of the main screen, the minutes passing sixty seconds at a time, as they usually do.
“Clio is signaling that they’ve solved their problems and should be spooled up in about ten minutes,” Decker reported shortly after that.
He’d kept one eye on the approaching vessels and the other on their charges, ready to chivvy any slackers along. After a few pointed transmissions, even the captain of the slowest ship seemed at pains to cooperate.
“Cutting it very fine,” Talyn replied, “but at least they’re not forcing our hand.”
“Note that it doesn’t change my suspicions,” Decker said to Verrill over his shoulder. “Dragging out our jump time gives the Jackals a chance to fully re-spool their drives as well, which means we won’t be able to shake them on the next tack either. Maybe I should fire a few warning shots.”
“I doubt it’ll impress them. They’re still well out of gun range.”
“But not out of missile range. I think they’ve just decided that we were the biggest threat because both ships have locked on to us and are showing an energy spike that can only mean one thing.”
“Four missiles,” Decker announced, moments later, “and all headed for us.”
“Time to strike?” Talyn asked, checking the readiness reports from the freighters.
“Five or six minutes. They’re not expecting us to have close-in defense calliopes; otherwise, they wouldn’t have given us so much time to watch the birds come in.”
“Or they’re trying to stampede us and don’t expect to score any hits.”
Decker groaned.
“Again? What is it with those clowns, thinking the tactic ever works out well for anyone?”
“Be thankful for the lack of imagination. It keeps our job simple.” She briefly glanced at the helm readout. “Marilan and Umberto report ready. Tell Clio we’re leaving in four minutes. If they want to come with us, they’ll be ready. If not, they can go rot for all I care.”
“Captain, please!” Verrill was half out of his seat again.
“The Jackals aren’t the only ones who can use the stampede technique. Have no fear. We’re all going to jump together. I get the feeling Clio will be...” her console chimed. “And she’s ready, right on cue. Hang on to your stomachs folks; we’re gone in thirty seconds.”
EIGHTEEN
“Persistent buggers.” Decker scowled at his sensor readout.
They were half-way
through their third tack in so many days, and the Confederacy ships had once again shown up a few million kilometers behind them moments after the convoy began cycling hyperdrives.
He looked up at Talyn.
“The way I see it, either our navigational razzle-dazzle isn’t razzly enough, or they have excellent detection gear or someone’s broadcasting a subspace beacon that lets ‘em know where we are every time. I know which one I’m voting for.”
“I’m beginning to share your suspicions,” she replied. “It wouldn’t be the first time this happened to us. They also seem to time things well enough that we can’t afford to investigate before we have to be off again.”
“Yup. You were talking about them trying to stampede us the other day. I think you’re probably right.” He glanced at the status board. “At least Clio isn’t buggering about anymore.”
“There’s no need to do so if she’s carrying a subspace beacon. All they had to do the first time was make sure the Jackals latched on. Since then...” She shrugged.
“Time for an ambush, I think.” He sat back and stared at the star field on the main screen. “Next tack, we drop out a bit earlier than the freighters, something that’ll put us a few million kilometers behind them, and then we wait for the Wolves to join the party. When they do, I fire a few warning shots to stampede them into an emergency jump.”
“Verrill might not agree,” she warned.
“Bugger Verrill.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’d like to find out what their end-game is, though. They must have figured that we’re headed for Garonne. I mean, if they know what we’re carrying, then they have to know the destination, right?”
“A reasonable person would think so, yes.” Talyn nodded. “Of course, no one has ever accused the Jackals of being reasonable.”
“Not when there’s profit at stake,” he replied. “So what’s the profit motive here?”
“Search me.” She sighed. “Okay. We’re just about ready to jump out again. Let’s hope this one will shake them. Sound the warning so our passengers don’t trip over their guts.”