by Baen Books
“You seem very human to me, Ember,” Catherine said.
The AI shifted its robotic body, tilting its oculus to one side. “Why, thank you, Captain. That is very nice of you to say.”
“Excuse me,” Catherine said, as her headset chirped. “This is the captain.”
It was Nattaya Tantirangsi, one of Catherine’s junior officers. She was on duty up on the flight deck. “Skipper, we’re approaching Transit Point Beta now. We should be making the translation in about ninety minutes.”
“Very good, Nuchy,” Catherine said, addressing her crewman by her nickname. “Anything else?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “Those bogey you wanted us to track? It’s still gaining on us. When we increased our acceleration, so did they. We’ll be through the transit point long before they catch up to us, though.”
“I see. Keep monitoring them. If anything out of the ordinary happens, let me know at once.”
“Roger that, Skipper,” Nuchy said, and the line was cut.
Catherine frowned. It wasn’t suspicious that other ships would be trailing the Andromeda toward Transit Point Beta. The Folsom 4101-B System was on a heavily-trafficked trade route between the heart of the Concordiat to the frontier. Something about this particular ship just didn’t sit right with her, though. The Sundevil was a privateer of questionable repute. She was registered out of the Llewellyn Freehold, and she was a long way from home. Her suspicions were reinforced when the Sundevil sped up to keep pace with the Andromeda.
“Is there a problem, Captain?” Ember asked.
“Not yet,” Catherine said. “We are close to the transit point.”
“I know. I am beginning my shutdown sequence,” Ember said. “Will you do me a favor?”
“What do you need?”
“Please tell Bjorn not to worry. He dotes over me as if I were a child. He is afraid that I will be irreparably damaged by the translation.”
“Are you afraid of that?”
“I do not want to die,” Ember said. “I do not want that very badly. The impulse could be called fear, or a survival instinct. But, I do not think a few translations will hurt me badly. I may not be myself when I first come back online, however. I suggest you keep your distance until I have regained full cognition.”
Catherine raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting you’ll be a danger to my crew?”
“I do not know,” Ember admitted. “I have translated before, and the results are unpredictable. On one occasion I was unable to come back online for eight hours. In another, I screamed incoherently at Bjorn for forty-seven minutes, even after he left the room. The quantum tunneling adversely affects my quantum processors in unexpected ways. I have manual safety lockouts that will prevent my articulated frame from being able to move, however. This will prevent me from presenting any physical danger to your crew. Please forgive me if I become verbally abusive.”
Catherine smiled at the AI. “Not to worry, Ember. Truth be told, I’m not especially pleasant until I’ve had my coffee, either.”
Ember didn’t have a mouth, but from the way she moved, Catherine could’ve sworn she smiled back.
# # # # #
Privateer Ship Andromeda
Able 32501 System
On the command deck of the Andromeda, Captain Catherine Blackwood was intensely studying the multiple screens framing her acceleration chair. The ship was accelerating at a steady 1 gravity, boosting toward a free trader that was having an in-flight emergency and was broadcasting a distress call.
Up until now, the flight from Red Heaven had been uneventful. As she predicted, Ember had reacted badly to translating between star systems. The first time, she’d simply locked up upon being restarted. It took eleven attempts before she successfully completed her startup sequence, and then she ran at reduced capacity for hours. After the second translation, she’d ranted and raved about invisible monsters trying to eat her processors (which did nothing to comfort the more superstitious members of the crew), and it took her a while to calm down. As unsettling as the episodes had been, they had also been fascinating.
Catherine had more pressing matters to attend to at present, however. Able 32501 was a lonely system, an orange star with one airless rock and two gas giants orbiting her. In a high solar orbit, about midway between transit points, a free trader identifying itself as the Kholat was in a bad way. Her reactor had failed and had to be shut down, the distress call said, and it was apparent that her orbit was decaying. If she didn’t receive a push into a stable orbit, she would fall into Able 32501.
Mr. Tran was standing on the command deck, near Catherine’s chair, and was unhappy with the situation. “Captain, I’m asking you one last time, ignore that mayday. I don’t like this. That other ship has been gaining on us since we left Red Heaven, and now a ship in distress that will delay us? It’s too convenient. I think it’s a trap.”
“I know, Mr. Tran,” Catherine said, trying not to let her annoyance with him slip through. “Your concerns have been noted and logged.”
“But Captain . . .”
Catherine cut him off. “Enough, Tran. I’m well aware of the peculiarity of the situation. I understand that however unlikely it may seem, the ship in distress could be coordinating with the Sundevil back there, and this whole thing could be an elaborate set-up. Those suspicions, however, do not relieve me from my duty to respond to another ship in distress. I have a sterling reputation, sir, and that reputation is how I get contracts. That reputation is not served by casually disregarding the ancient Laws of Outer Space. All it takes is for one ship to report that the Andromeda blatantly ignored a distress call, and I could be blacklisted throughout Concordiat space. I can’t even blame the whole thing on you, since the nondisclosure agreement I’ve signed bars me from discussing the details of this mission. So kindly be quiet and let me do my job.”
Tran deflated. “Very well.”
The Kholat was a bulbous ship, and she outmassed the Andromeda by quite a bit. Her primary hull was a fifty meter diameter sphere. Beneath that was a short cylindrical section, then a cluster of four huge rocket engines. Radiators and antenna jutted from her hull. She wasn’t designed for atmospheric flight. According to her transponder, she was registered out of the frontier colony world of Frisco. She had stopped at Red Heaven, departing the Folsom system ahead of the Andromeda, and was on her way to the Inner Colonies.
Tran wasn’t wrong, however annoying his protests may have gotten. It was possible that this was an attempt to get the drop on the Andromeda. In preparation, Catherine had sounded general quarters, put the crew on alert, and had her first officer on the command deck with her. Her weapons were armed and she was ready to use them if need be. The Kholat, for her part, was apparently unarmed.
The two ships had been in constant contact since the Andromeda had acknowledged the distress call. The Kholat’s captain, a woman who identified herself as Ivana Dragunov, certainly seemed grateful for the assist. She appeared on Catherine’s screen as the Andromeda drew close.
“I can’t thank you enough, Captain,” she said. Catherine found her to be more than a little attractive. She was possessed of long blonde hair, skin as smooth as porcelain, piercing blue eyes, full lips, and a Slavic accent that Catherine thought was incredibly sexy. “My engineer tells me we will be able to repair our reactor. We just need to you boost us to a stable orbit to, how would you say, buy us some time.”
“I understand, Captain,” Catherine replied with a smile. “We will match trajectories with you then begin docking maneuvers. We will latch onto you with our manipulator arm and nudge you back into orbit.”
“We will be happy to transfer some reaction mass to you as payment,” Captain Dragunov said. “For your trouble.”
“That would be appreciated,” Catherine said. Pushing a ship as big as the Kholat would burn a lot more remass than Catherine would have liked.
“Pity you won’t have time to come aboard for dinner,” Dragunov said, her tone changing
slightly.
Catherine smiled. “Indeed. I’m afraid I’m on a tight schedule, however.”
“Kapitänin,” Wolfram von Spandau said, looking up from his work station. “The Sundevil is increasing its acceleration. They are pushing one-point-five-gee, correction, two gees now, headed straight for us.”
Catherine swore under her breath. “Captain Dragunov, please stand by.” She turned her attention to the junior officer on deck. “Nuchy, hail them. I’ve had enough of this.”
Nattaya Tantirangsi acknowledged her captain’s command. “Sending out a message now, Captain. Sundevil, Sundevil, this is the Andromeda, please respond.” After a few moments, she looked back up at Catherine. “Captain, incoming transmission.”
“I’ll take it on my screen,” Catherine said. She tapped her console and answered the call. A scruffy-looking spacer with unkempt hair, long sideburns, and a small strip of goatee on his chin appeared on her screen. “Sundevil, this is Captain Catherine Blackwood of the Andromeda.”
“Hello there, Captain!” the man said, grinning. “This is Lazarus Goodchild of the Sundevil. What can I do for you?” His voice strained ever-so-slightly under the acceleration.
Catherine frowned. “You know damned well why I’m calling, Sundevil. You’ve been trailing us since we left Red Heaven, and now you’re approaching us at two gees. State your intentions, if you please.”
“If I please?” Goodchild asked. “Why Captain, I’m just responding to the distress call, same as you. Law of Outer Space, you know.”
Law of Outer Space my pale Avalonian ass, Catherine thought. “We have the situation under control,” she said. “Change course and be on your way. We do not require your assistance.”
“Captain, we’re closing on the Kholat,” Nattaya said. She looked at Tran. “Sir, you may want to take the folding jump seat behind you there. We’re about to cut our acceleration.”
Catherine nodded at her junior officer, but didn’t say anything to her. She was focused on her conversation with this Goodchild fellow. “Sundevil, for the last time, alter course and wave off. We do not require your assistance.”
Captain Dragunov of the Kholat appeared on Catherine’s screen as well. “Captain, please do not be alarmed by other good Samaritans,” she said, smiling. “We appreciate the boost, but perhaps the Sundevil can help us repair our reactor?”
Catherine didn’t like this situation at all, and she’d had enough of the games. “Perhaps they can, Captain,” she said coldly. She turned her attention to Lazarus Goodchild. “If you’re coming to render assistance, Sundevil, then we will be on our way. Thank you for taking this one for us. We are on a tight schedule.” She muted the transmission and called her pilot, up on the flight deck. “Mr. Abernathy, I want a minimum time, maximum acceleration burn to get us back on course for the transit point. Get some distance between us and these two ships.”
“Roger that, Skipper,” the pilot said. “Stand by for acceleration!”
Catherine resumed her conversation with the other two ship captains. “Captain Dragunov, Captain Goodchild should be along shortly to render assistance. We’ll be on our way.”
“Captain!” It was Nattaya Tantirangsi, excited. “Something’s happening on the Kholat! She … I think she has concealed weapons, ma’am! We’re being targeted!”
“Damn it,” Catherine hissed, under her breath. She noted then that the image of the lovely Captain Ivana Dragunov disappeared to static, leaving a black screen with an audiograph display. The sexy voice changed to a computerized, modulated baritone.
“Andromeda,” the voice ordered. “You are to stand down and—”
Catherine terminated the conversation. “Wolfram, target the Kholat with the rail gun, three rounds rapid, and fire!”
The executive officer’s hands flew across the controls. “Firing!” The Andromeda shuddered as the powerful electromagnetic accelerator launched a trio of solid, 60mm diameter projectiles, one after another.
“Captain,” Nattaya said, “the Sundevil is firing missiles! Shit, so is the Kholat!”
“Calmly, Miss Tantirangsi. Target the incoming with lasers. Don’t let anything get through.” She tapped her console, addressing her pilot. “Colin,” Catherine said, “I want a high speed pass on the Kholat, get us right down her damned throat!” She turned back to her executive officer. “Wolfram, target the Sundevil with missiles. I want a two-round firing hnnngggh!!”
She grunted under intense acceleration as the Andromeda flipped over, pointing its exhaust plume back toward the Kholat. A pair of incoming missiles were vaporized in the thermonuclear fire of the Andromeda’s engines as she rocketed away from the hostile ship.
“Multiple hits on the Kholat!” Wolfram announced. “Engine damage.”
“Splash one incoming missile!” Nattaya said excitedly. This was her first engagement but she was holding up well. “Splash two!” One by one, the Andromeda’s powerful lasers picked the incoming missiles off, detonating the first two immediately and damaging the third enough that it veered off course. “Splash three!” the young officer said, triumphantly.
The Andromeda was still headed toward the other ship, tail first, though she was rapidly slowing the merge. The ship was rocked by g-forces again as the young pilot slewed the ship over-end again, pointing its nose back toward the hostile ship.
“Target them with everything!” Catherine ordered as she was mashed into her acceleration chair. “Fire!”
In the silent darkness of space, the Andromeda bore down on the Kholat with frightening speed, launching one railgun round after another, firing a trio of missiles, and tearing into her with lasers. The Kholat hesitated at first, trying to cripple the Andromeda without destroying her. Undoubtedly, Catherine thought, because she was trying to recover Ember intact. But as one of the Andromeda’s missiles got through, blowing off one of her engines, and two railgun projectiles punched through her primary hull, she got desperate and tried to lay into the Andromeda with all of her weapons. Both ships shuddered as lasers lanced out into the night, laying into each other as they flashed by in an instant.
# # # # #
Privateer Ship Sundevil
“Holy shit, Laz,” Femi said, her head buried in that stupid headset again, “the Andromeda is doing a high speed pass.”
“Target their engines!” Lazarus ordered. “Missiles again, until we get in railgun range!” At the speeds the two ships were moving, and as much as the Andromeda was maneuvering, trying to predict where she would be so as to hit her with a railgun projectile was a waste of ammunition. The missiles, at least, would home in.
Trey, the Sundevil’s pilot, called down from the flight deck. “Boss! She’s really laying into the Kholat! I think she … oh, shit!”
There was no mistaking it. An intense thermal bloom, followed by a rapidly expanding debris cloud.
“The Kholat is gone,” Femi said.
Lazarus was in trouble and he knew it. The Kholat was supposed to be his backup. He was all alone and outgunned. “Fire missiles!” he ordered, trying to hide the desperation in his voice. His seat was reclined, and he was mashed into it as the Sundevil pulled four gees of acceleration.
“How many?” Femi asked, also reclined. Her voice strained under the apparent weight.
“All of them!” Lazarus shouted. “Fire every fucking thing we have!” His only chance of success lay in scoring a solid hit on the Andromeda before she could focus her attention on him. One by one, the Sundevil ripple-fired the remaining four missiles from its seven-round rotary rack. The Andromeda accelerated right past the Kholat’s debris cloud, then slewed, changing course without cutting her engine.
“Laz, she’s turning toward us!” Femi grunted.
Lazarus watched his displays as his four missiles slowly, painfully slowly tracked the Andromeda, closing the vast distance between the two ships. The Andromeda had activated electronic countermeasures and jammers, but so had the Sundevil. None of it could hide either ship’s massive the
rmal signature. With the engine firing, such a ship could be easily tracked from a billion kilometers away. But the jammers did play merry hell with the missiles’ terminal guidance.
Especially, Lazarus thought with a grimace, on the shitty-ass missiles he’d been able to afford. He watched in helpless frustration as one got confused and targeted a hot chunk of the Kholat’s wreckage, veering off course. The last three were shot down by the Andromeda’s lasers.
“Fuck!” Femi snarled. “We’re out of missiles!”
“Use the railgun!” Lazarus ordered. They were still a long way from the Andromeda, but she was bearing down on them under high acceleration. She wouldn’t be able to maneuver much.
“Incoming missiles!” Femi announced, the fear obvious in her voice now. “One, uh, three, no, four missiles!”
“Shoot them down!”
The two ships blazed toward each other at incredible speeds, closing the black gulf between them at a frightening pace. This was space combat in its purest form, two ships lobbing weapons at one another, hoping to score a vital hit before taking one themselves. Ships were made of advanced alloys, incredibly strong, and were layered in lightweight armor, but there was only so much that could be done. Even without an explosive warhead, an incoming projectile hitting a ship at a relative velocity of dozens, even hundreds, of kilometers per second could be catastrophic.
Now that the Andromeda was bearing straight down on the Sundevil, her engines were out of view and couldn’t be targeted. But Lazarus wasn’t so interested in crippling the enemy ship anymore. He’d all but forgotten about the AI he’d been paid to recover; this was a fight to the death now.
“Lazarus!” Femi pleaded, still pinned to her seat by the acceleration. “Let’s just get out of here! Just run! We’re not going to get paid anyway, so let’s just go!”
“No!” Lazarus snarled. “No, I’m not running! I’m not a coward!”