Decker's War Omnibus 1

by Eric Thomson

  In the end, they didn’t tell Verrill about the plan to ambush the Confederacy ships under the principle that it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. Not that they’d have bowed to the rebel leader’s disapproval in any case.

  They dropped out of FTL a fair distance behind the freighters after the next jump, prompting three anxious calls that Decker ignored in favor of finding the Jackals’ hyperspace bubbles.

  “There!” He crowed when he picked up the emergence signature. “Targeting on. They’re out of effective engagement range, but having us on their butts should give them a fright.”

  Talyn fired the sublight drives, and Phoenix accelerated towards the new arrivals, now caught between the freighters and the Q-ship.

  “Watch this.” Decker flicked on the transmitter. “Unidentified ships, this is the Free Republic of Garonne frigate Phoenix. You are interfering with a duly constituted naval convoy; I therefore order you to decelerate and prepare to be boarded for inspection.”

  “Free Republic of Garonne frigate?” Talyn tried to restrain a sudden outburst of laughter. “Are you having delusions of adequacy?”

  He grinned and shrugged.

  “Why not? It’ll give the bastards something to wonder about.” He glanced at his screen. “Not that they’ll reply after I called them by the name they hate. Maybe we should light up their tails.”

  He unmasked and deployed the ship’s main guns, and fired a dozen times, sending streaks of plasma towards the Confederacy ships.

  “It won’t touch them, but they’ll see it alright. I’m tempted to pump out a few missiles, but we might need them against ships that actually want to fight.”

  He switched the transmitter back on.

  “Unidentified ships, this is the Free Republic of Garonne frigate Phoenix. Those were warning shots. Clear out and don’t let yourselves be seen again. Piss me off and you’ll be hitching a ride to the nearest star system.”

  “Still expecting an answer?”

  “No, but it makes me feel like a big boy.”

  “Verrill should be here. He’d be thrilled to know his rebel movement has an imaginary frigate in its imaginary navy.”

  “Cynic.” He paused, eyes widening. “They left. The bastards just jumped out without warning.”

  “I guess you scared them, big boy,” Talyn smirked at her partner. “Good show. Let’s catch up to our lost sheep and herd them to the promised land.”

  **

  “Wasn’t that risky?” Verrill asked, later that evening, after the convoy was FTL again.

  Decker snorted.

  “The Confederacy of the Howling Stars isn’t in it to die but to make money. I showed them a big gun and scared them away.”

  “My wonderfully immodest ex-Marine.” Talyn patted him on the arm, smiling. “Can’t resist whipping out his weapon.”

  “Free Republic of Garonne, eh?” Steiger twirled her half-empty bottle on the tabletop. “That has a certain goofy ring to it. And calling this tub a frigate? Pure chutzpah. I like it.”

  “Mock all you want, folks,” Decker smiled at his companions, “but it worked. I’m taking bets that we won’t see their hairy asses when we drop out to tack next time.”

  “It does seem a bit too easy,” Kidder remarked. “You really think they’d give up after all these light-years?”

  “Who knows what the buggers were after?” Zack shrugged. “One thing’s for sure: they didn’t expect to find out Phoenix had some mean teeth to go with my bark.”

  “In any case, we do one more tack, and then I’ll point us straight at the Garonne system.” Talyn drained her glass and set it down. “Bedtime, Mister Big Guns.”

  Decker wiggled his eyebrows at the others, grinning.

  “Have a great night, folks. I know I will.”

  Once they were in the privacy of their cabin, Talyn began to strip.

  “You checked all the security measures?” She asked, tossing her trousers on the chair by the doublewide bunk.

  He touched the terminal by the door.

  “Our dear AI confirms everything’s locked down. They can empty out the bar, play cards, or sleep on the deck for all I care. They won’t be going anywhere.”

  “I’m not sure I like the way those howlers simply left.” Talyn stepped out of her underwear and looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I thought you wanted a good night? It’s not going to happen if you’re still wearing your gun belt.”

  “Agreed – about the Jackals abandoning the chase, I mean.” He quickly stripped down and then wrapped his arms around Talyn. “Enough shop talk. Live for the moment, I always say.”

  “You say a lot of things,” she replied, moments before his mouth covered hers, ending any further conversation.

  Later, much later, lying side by side, staring at the deck head, their bodies covered by a thin film of sweat, Decker turned to look at her.

  “Off the wall analysis here, Commander Talyn,” he said, any trace of banter absent from his tone. “What if the howlers were making sure the ordnance got to Garonne without any of the real filth trying to steal it? Shepherding, so to speak, not stampeding?”

  “And once they saw that we were more than able to fight off trouble, they figured the job was done?” She nodded. “Plausible. We’ll make a paranoid spook out of you yet, Chief Warrant Officer Decker.”

  “So riddle me this,” he said after a few moments of silence. “If our analysts are right, and the Sécurité Spéciale uses the Confederacy as proxies for wet work, why would they want to make certain illicit weapons, a lot of it Shrehari at that, get safely to Garonne?”

  “We’re not on Garonne yet,” she pointed out.

  “True, but the question is valid. Why would they have an interest in helping the rebels? I’m sure the senior folks in the Celeste government are dues paying members of the Coalition and would rather not lose their grip on one of the last two colonies they still own.”

  “That’s the conundrum, isn’t it?” She turned onto her side to face Zack. “Of course, it could still be entirely possible that you startled them out of a planned piracy operation with your preposterous announcement and gunfire. There could very well be no Sécurité Spéciale strings pulling. Maybe Roste or someone else aboard Clio really is dirty.”

  “Sure. In that case, they’ll regroup and try us out again, using a different approach. It’s still just two against one, and they haven’t seen my lovely missiles yet, let alone my calliopes.”

  “Why is it that speaking of weaponry lights up your eyes more than any invitation to play I’ve ever thrown your way?”

  “A man’s got to have his priorities, sweetheart, and I feel another priority coming on.”

  She reached down and grabbed him, a low, husky laugh rising from her throat.

  “Funny that, I can feel it too.”

  **

  “Why wait?” Verrill sounded impatient. He frowned at the tactical display on the main screen and said, “One more jump and we’re home free.”

  The little convoy had emerged just beyond the Garonne system’s outermost planet after two tacks without seeing any further evidence of pursuit, though Zack thought he’d picked up a sensor ghost both times.

  “Before we run headlong into something we might not be able to control, wouldn’t it be best to see what may be out there?”

  Talyn sounded so calm and reasonable that the rebel leader felt foolish for a moment.

  “You’re the one who said Avalon had been contracted to blockade Garonne,” she pointed out.

  “Plus, you and your pals need time to shift over to one of your own ships,” Zack added, “just in case we need to fight our way through. Remember, you also hired us as your escort, and that means our job is to cover you until you land.”

  Verrill exchanged glances with his two companions and then nodded.

  “Tran and I will shift to Marilan. Miko will stay here with the cargo she bought.”

  Decker shrugged. “Suit yourself, though...”


  The AI pinged, and he left the rest of his reply hanging.

  “Our sensor ghost again, at the limit of our range, well out towards interstellar space.”

  “The Jackals?” Steiger asked.

  “Possibly. It looks like the same contact we had during the last two tacks. It’s almost like they’re checking up on us.”

  “Why? To make sure we get where we’re supposed to go?”

  “That would be the most likely supposition,” Talyn said. “The reason for such solicitude isn’t apparent, however.”

  “Are you still thinking Roste or someone on Clio is in cahoots with them?” Verrill asked.

  “One doesn’t preclude the other. Provided we get you and your weaponry down in one piece, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

  “The ghost is gone again, like the last two times.” Decker turned back towards the rebel commander.

  “Not that I want to seem pushy, but you should head over to your ship now. We don’t want to hang around here longer than necessary, especially if we’re still being tracked for some reason.”

  “In that case, I’ll thank you for your hospitality.” Verrill stood and stuck out his hand. “You’re sure you don’t want to hang around after delivering the merchandise? We could really use a veteran of the Corps like you.”

  Talyn gave him a warning glance, and he briefly shook his head.

  “The boss says no. We’ll deliver and then it’s off to whatever contract finds us next.”

  “Pity.”

  Tran Kidder shook Decker’s hand next, disappointment writ large on his face.

  “The Garonne colonists are good people, Zack, but the only way they’ll get the freedom they’ve earned is through the barrel of a gun. There’s a few more of us former silahdar in the movement, and they’d take a lot of heart from knowing you were helping out.”

  “Sorry, Tran.” Zack pulled him in for a bear hug. “You take care now. There’s nothing more I can teach you anyway, so I know you and the others will be all right.”

  Then, the two men were gone, leaving Miko Steiger as their sole passenger. The personnel transfer pod released its death grip on Phoenix’s airlock a few minutes later and sped off towards the lead freighter.

  “If you’d like,” Steiger suggested after they witnessed the pod’s safe arrival, “I could help out with the system scan.”

  Decker stared at her for a few seconds, trying to decide whether or not she would be of any use. Steiger mistook his hesitation for a matter of trust, and a sardonic smile appeared.

  “Guys, I already figure this ship is more than you make it out to be, for whatever reasons I’m not about to question. There’s a lot of data to sift through that the AI won’t be able to classify, and I’ve done this kind of work before, believe it or not.”

  Zack shook his head absently.

  “It’s not a question of trust, Miko. I’m just wondering whether doubling up on the job will make a difference.”

  He glanced at Talyn who shrugged as if to say it was his call.

  “Okay. Take that station,” he pointed to a console on the other side of the bridge. “I’ll push the raw feed over, and you can look for anything that’ll trigger a gut feel. While you do that, I’m going to sort through the AI’s analysis. I know the wretched program well enough to understand its idiosyncrasies. You don’t.”

  Steiger tossed off a mock salute and dropped into the designated seat.

  “Ready.”

  **

  “I’m drawing a blank,” the mercenary said a few hours later. “If there’s anything we need to worry about in this system, it’s either running silent or in close orbit around Garonne.”

  “Concur,” Decker replied pushing his seat away from the console and stretching his arms. “Time to get a little closer.”

  “Perhaps a brief moment to visit the facilities and maybe have a coffee?” Talyn suggested, rising from the helm seat. “Our next jump will be short and who knows what we’ll see then. Everyone’s dialed in, so we’re ready to go at any time.”

  Decker felt his bladder respond to the notion and smiled.

  “Agreed. I’ll make coffee. Neither of you has the right touch with the machine. Your brews always seem to come out tasting like sludge.”

  “Please, do impress us, O Master of the autochef,” Talyn replied, waving her hand. “Remember, mine is pure, like my soul.”

  “I thought you said you had no soul.”

  “And thus, it must be pure.” She laughed. “Something that doesn’t exist cannot be corrupted.”

  “Your boss has a point,” Steiger said, shaking her head. “I’ll have mine like a proper human being, thank you very much.”

  “My job is to make the brew. What you two comedians do with it before it touches your soft, rosy lips isn’t my problem.”

  “Is he always this touchy?” Steiger asked Talyn while the two women made their way aft to the heads.

  “Must be his time of the month,” the agent replied, in a voice loud enough for Decker to hear. She winked at the mercenary.

  “Sludge from the environmental filters it is,” Zack announced, following the two women down the passageway. “And I know just the right amount to draw from the septic tanks.”

  “As I said, touchy, isn’t he?”

  “Until I find better, he’ll do.” Talyn turned to blow a kiss at Zack over her shoulder.

  **

  Decker shook off the emergence disorientation and forced his eyes to focus on the sensor readout. Their little convoy had dropped out of FTL as close to Garonne as Talyn dared.

  The AI began chiming with an insistence that drove away the last of the fog dulling his senses.

  “We’ve got a clear view of Garonne’s orbitals,” he said after taking a deep breath, “and there’s a pair of sloops broadcasting an Avalon PMC beacon.”

  “Got a visual?” Talyn asked.

  “Coming.”

  A blue-green planet covered by streaks of torn white clouds grew at an alarming rate on the main screen as Decker zoomed in, hunting for tiny specks circling high above the atmosphere. Just when Garonne was about to fill the entire display, it slipped to one side while the camera locked onto a bright dot.

  “There’s one. It’s in a polar orbit. The other is in an equatorial orbit.”

  Data about the ship appeared beside its image and Talyn frowned.

  “Larger than us by about a third, though we might have parity when it comes to weapons. We are a little over gunned for our size.”

  “But they’ll have autoloaders for the missile launchers, a feature that we conspicuously lack,” Zack said, “so we’ll get one chance only.”

  “Assuming we need to fight.” Steiger sounded dubious.

  “If your boss is right and these Avalon rent-a-spacers are here to enforce the colonial governor’s will, they’ll want to ensure your ships don’t make it to the surface. Destroying a couple of small freighters isn’t much of a stretch for them. Count on the buggers trying. After all, what good is a blockade if it doesn’t block?”

  “So you’re saying we’re basically screwed?”

  A wide grin spread across Decker’s face.

  “Nope. Not in the least. They’re seeing four freighters right now, ships that can’t even scratch the paint job on those sloops. What they’re about to realize is that one of us isn’t an easy target. Remember, corporate types aren’t in it to die for glory but to make a profit. Scratching the paint job costs money. Denting it costs even more. All we have to do is force them to pay attention to Phoenix while the actual freighters head for the ground.”

  He turned his grin on Hera Talyn.

  “Permission to go to battle stations, Captain?”

  “You look much too happy at the notion,” she replied with a theatrical sigh, “though I suppose that your bloodthirstiness might be appropriate for once. I’ll let Verrill know that we’re splitting from the convoy with the intent to peel the blockade off Garonne for them.”

 
; “Don’t forget to ask for landing coordinates,” he reminded her. “We’ve got some of their stuff to off-load.”

  Then, Decker touched his screen, and a loud claxon went off while the lights dimmed.

  “Battle stations, folks. I’ve hoisted the black flag so strap in ‘cause we’re about to rock the galaxy.”

  NINETEEN

  “Sir, four ships in a convoy formation dropped out of FTL just beyond lunar orbit and are inbound on a direct course.”

  The officer of the watch glanced over the sensor tech’s shoulder and studied the readout.

  “Small, clapped-out freighters? Could be the ones we were warned about, but the report said there would be three, not four.” He turned towards the signals petty officer. “Petrov, warn Merlin. I’ll get the captain.”

  “No need,” a loud voice boomed behind him. “I have the bridge, Mister Keele.”

  “I stand relieved.”

  “We’ll have no trouble intercepting those tubs.”

  Captain Gurik, commanding officer of the Avalon Private Military Corporation ship Morgana, rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

  “Petrov, send out a warning on all frequencies that they’re to enter orbit and await inspection. Any attempt to land without permission will be met with lethal force.”

  A few minutes passed, then the signals petty officer slowly shook his head and turned to face Gurik.

  “We got a reply, sir. You’re not going to believe this, but we’ve been told that any attempt to prevent the ships from landing would be met with lethal force.”

  Gurik guffawed loudly.

  “I’d like to see them try. Sound battle stations, Mister Keele, though I doubt we’ll raise a sweat.”

  **

  “What do you mean you hoisted the black flag?” Talyn asked in a tone dripping with suspicion.

  “If we’re going to fight the Avalon buggers, we should do so under our own banner, no?”

  “So you invented a flag for the Navy of the Free Republic of Garonne?” She kept her eyes on the countdown timer marking the moment Phoenix would change course and aim her bow at the nearest PMC sloop and didn’t see Decker’s mischievous smirk.