SeekerStar

by Blaze Ward

  He could only walk.

  The bridge was crowded when everyone arrived. He was so used to sitting alone up here, or perhaps one other person, if Kathra or Ndidi happened to join him for a flight. Now he had four human women, all bigger than him, and the six ishtan snakes, currently coiled and upright around him.

  Open the window, the leader commanded.

  Daniel did not resist greatly. This wasn’t a battle worth fighting, as he sought to conserve his strength for some coming conflagration.

  Around him, large sections of the head bridge turned transparent, showing the distant stars and the bulk of WinterStar parked close.

  Daniel doubted that the miniscule crew could do anything, even if they weren’t under ishtan control. Even Septagon Uwalu had only been able to punch him lightly with their Ram Cannons while he had avoided the monstrous beam that emerged from the bow.

  Would the four women be allowed to return home, once Daniel was dead? Would the ishtan kill him and the Turtle, and turn pirate by keeping WinterStar?

  They would be in for a monumental surprise if they did that, since most of its crew was gone, over on SeekerStar.

  Would Kathra understand what had happened? And would she pursue them, or take the opportunity to be rid of Daniel’s problems forever?

  He doubted it, even if the four women were comitatus-sworn and expected to give up their lives for the Commander. Kathra would see someone stealing her old ship as an insult too great to accept, and SeekerStar had the firepower to defeat and destroy WinterStar, if it came to that.

  A new flight vector appeared in Daniel’s mind as someone forced him to sit on the cold, stone throne. Contact wasn’t necessary, except as it helped him center his mind to go flying.

  They were going to fly Daniel and his Star Turtle into the nearby star and use that to destroy both and end his evil. The thing didn’t even have a name, as it was just a cool, orange dwarf without any planetary disk, so nothing that the Mbaysey or anyone else had ever been interested in exploiting.

  Just a string of numbers and letters.

  Fitting, perhaps, for a ghost like Urid-Varg and all his legacy to die.

  Now you need to die, the snake snarled into his head.

  Daniel decided he had had enough. They couldn’t just reach in and take control of his mind and body, like he could do to others. It would be necessary to force him onto a path, diving the Turtle into a star already relatively nearby.

  Would they force one of the women to shoot him while he fought the other ishtan off? That might explain why they had brought them here, while leaving the other crew on WinterStar, although that was just speculation.

  Five minds landed on his back and tried to drive him under the water, to hold him there where he might drown. A tendril of thought escaped his control and touched the Turtle. Daniel felt the beast began to move under the guidance of mental hands no longer his.

  His death would be here shortly. He didn’t know if they intended to join him, but he was going down fighting.

  Forty-Seven

  Kathra had not left the bridge of SeekerStar during the short flight, just as she was sure that all of her women were currently strapped into their Spectres and waiting for emergence on the far side, so they could blast into the darkness for whatever battle they might fight, against whoever had taken Erin and Daniel against their will.

  “Counting down, Commander,” Ife brought her attention to the big screen currently only showing the strange darkness between universes.

  “All guns live,” Kathra said. “All Spectres prepare for battle.”

  Acknowledgements flooded in. Kathra wasn’t surprised, but this would be more than just chasing off some pirates, or giving the finger to a Sept Patrol as the squadron danced away into the darkness.

  They would emerge on the far side of the Turtle, hoping to catch everyone off-guard by deliberately flying long. She had the Ram Cannons to destroy her old ship if she needed to.

  Nothing could kill the Turtle, as far as Kathra knew, but if she couldn’t claim WinterStar, nobody else would either.

  The dropped into space from the jump and landed long and silent.

  “Status?” Kathra turned her attention to Ife.

  “The Turtle is still there,” her bridge commander never looked up from her screens. “WinterStar as well. The turtle is starting to move, but the course makes no sense.”

  “Show me,” Kathra ordered.

  She considered the screen from over Ife’s shoulder.

  No, that made perfect sense, if you wanted to dive into the center of the star to destroy yourself.

  “Message from WinterStar, Commander,” Ife suddenly perked up. “Narrow-beam-laser. A’Alhakoth is on the bridge in command.”

  A’Alhakoth?

  It didn’t make any sense, but it at least gave her someone over there she could rely on. And a warrior. Not all of the bridge crews had that combativeness built in.

  “Follow-up message,” Ife continued. “Scout team captured by pink snake aliens. Erin, Daniel, and the other three took a SkyCamel onto the Turtle with the snakes without realizing A’Alhakoth was on the ship. She’s been organizing and awaiting developments.”

  Yes, like what could a tiny ship like WinterStar do against a Star Turtle?

  “Tell her good job and stand by,” Kathra said. “Both ships to pace the Turtle, but remain behind it and away from the forward beams. Scan for any shuttles or other craft leaving one of the flight fins and lock weapons on it immediately, but not to fire until ordered.”

  Kathra watched the Turtle come smoothly about. She had no idea how resistant that hull was to heat, but SeekerStar would only be able to pursue for a short period of time before needing to swing around, stop, and accelerate away.

  Something would have to happen shortly.

  She just wasn’t sure what it would be.

  Forty-Eight

  “Naupati, we’ll be emerging in thirty seconds.”

  Pasdar nodded to himself and returned to his seat at the rear of the Great Causeway, planting himself next to Rostami, who maintained a serious mien, even with a hint of a smile in his eyes.

  “All weapons charged and unlocked, Naupati,” Rostami said just loud enough to be heard.

  Pasdar nodded. It had come down to this.

  And they would probably only get one chance.

  “GunMaster, you are to take command and align Vorgash with the Turtle as soon as we emerge,” Pasdar ordered, catching the flinch in the man’s shoulders as the implications dawned on him. “You will fire the Axial Megacannon as soon as you have a confirmed firing solution.”

  Most men would flinch. The GunMaster would command the entirety of the Septagon for those seconds, bending all other men to his will so that he could unleash destruction on his own, rather than being ordered to by a naupati.

  Any mistakes would probably end his career.

  On any other Septagon, that is. Pasdar understood that the creature had evaded Uwalu while the chain of orders slowly worked their way down the staff before any fire.

  That had been too long. Pasdar would rather an aggressive man take a poorer shot, as long as he hit, rather than waiting so long that the creature spun like a bird and departed laughing.

  Or whatever it was that the thing had done to Uwalu. Even the scientists were still unsure.

  If they could wound the creature, Pasdar was willing to lose all trace of the Mbaysey for now while he hunted the Turtle, visions of angry white whales dancing at the edge of his vision.

  He would succeed.

  Vorgash returned to the universe.

  “Target identified,” a voice called out over the eruption of noise and chaos that always accompanied emergence into battle.

  “Hard about starboard,” the GunMaster snarled. “Bow down and engines prepare for maximum thrust. All generators go to redline immediately and hold there until countermanded.”

  Pasdar nodded. He even let Rostami see his emotions. The GunMaster was taking a
very aggressive approach, but that was always better than a timid one. Letting the man have the ultimate responsibility would probably prove to be a good choice. If not, Pasdar would determine his fate only after the battle had been fought.

  Outside the forward portals, stars began to shift as the mighty Septagon pivoted slowly on ice and began to draw forward. So much mass did not accelerate quickly, but the Turtle was caught in the middle of a turn, and could not make a translight leap to escape, with its beak pointed directly at the nearby star.

  Pasdar could not think of a more foolish maneuver the aspbad over there could have chosen, even without expecting an ambush.

  “Fire now!” the GunMaster yelled.

  The forward portals automatically dimmed and shadowed as the Axial Megacannon erupted, a coherent beam of lased energy forty meters across and carrying enough destructive energy to destroy cities at the bottom of an atmosphere if necessary.

  Like a knight’s lance, it leapt out, catching the Turtle in the hindquarters on the starboard side hard enough that Pasdar could see it stagger as the energy of the beam was liberated on that unscannable, green shell in a cloud of plasma generated by hull plates melting.

  “Again,” the GunMaster ordered. “Divert all energy to the Megacannon to recharge, including life support systems. We can survive a few minutes on still air.”

  Pasdar considered intervening, but the first shot had been true, a harpoon into the beast’s flank. And if it shaved time off the thirty-five to forty seconds needed to recharge the weapon, that might be worth it for the second shot. He would step in at that point and bring order before the GunMaster did any permanent damage to the vessel.

  “Command Node, we have identified two other vessels pursuing the target,” someone called. “Confirm the Mbaysey vessel WinterStar and the second vessel we identified departing Tavle Jocia. Tentative transponder code SeekerStar.”

  In his excitement, Pasdar had forgotten that this was all part of a stern chase of Kathra Omezi as well. Capturing or killing her would be even better, but only a bonus after killing the Turtle.

  “Any other vessels in scanner range?” Rostami asked in a loud voice.

  Yes, what about the Mbaysey? Pasdar doubted that the squadron would be located here, since this system was known to be a solitary star floating alone in space, probably ejected from some binary or trinary system in the recent past.

  “Negative, Commanders,” came the reply. “Only three vessels in range.”

  “Open fire on WinterStar with secondary armaments,” Rostami ordered after a moment to check.

  He and Pasdar had an almost telepathic communication link, these days. They would ignore the other ship, at least until it made the mistake of fighting back.

  “All Patrols attack the Turtle,” Pasdar commanded. “Maximum effort.”

  Again, Kathra Omezi was nothing that the Sept could not annihilate. It was her alien allies that needed to be neutralized as quickly as possible.

  Out of the darkness, vessels began to accelerate. Pasdar rose again and began to pace, letting his view from the front of the Great Causeway give him the show of the smaller vessels racing ahead from all around Vorgash. They lacked even Ram Cannons, but could pound any small vessel to scrap quickly. Here, they would just pour fire into the already-wounded hull of the Turtle and do internal damage until the thing surrendered.

  Or died.

  Forty-Nine

  Daniel screamed in agony. Someone had just stabbed him in the kidneys with a powered knife and was trying to remove his spleen with it.

  Except he was still seated atop Urid-Varg’s command throne, resting his shoulder blades against the green stone.

  For the briefest moment, the ishtan lost control of his mind, and Daniel was able to expand his senses outward.

  The Turtle was on a path that would slam it into the atmosphere of a star hot enough to kill even something this tough, but he had time to turn away yet.

  Behind him, WinterStar trailed in his wake, with a welcome SeekerStar behind that, surrounded by a swarm of Spectres, all still keeping their distance, as the star was a large blot in the skies ahead of them.

  But another problem emerged.

  Septagon Vorgash, the first of its type he had ever encountered, had arrived. Was here. Now.

  Daniel had no idea how they had found him, or even what they were doing so deep into Free Worlds space, but the ship practically yelled its name on the psychic bands he could hear.

  The pain in his back was from the Turtle. Vorgash had struck with the Axial Megacannon. He had been right to fear such a weapon at Azgon, when Uwalu had thought to do the same.

  The blow was not mortal, but the Turtle might require decades to scar over the gash in the carapace that the weapon had inflicted.

  Daniel could hear the crew of Vorgash celebrating, and preparing another shot. If the second struck in the same place as the first, it might gut the Turtle like a boning knife.

  He tried to roll, and the ishtan stopped him. Six minds piled onto his, holding his mental hands short of the word that would bring the next shot onto unscarred hull.

  Daniel screamed with the pain of the knife in his back and the rage of the creatures threatening his mind and his soul.

  It took six of them to hold him. Contain him. Stop him.

  That was their mistake.

  Another scream of rage erupted, but this one was physical, rather than mental.

  Surprise followed in its wake.

  Daniel’s eyes happened to be facing the correct direction to follow the action. Everything moved suddenly in slow motion.

  Around him, six ishtan had taken up stations, four in the corners and two on the sides of the throne.

  Four comitatus warriors had been largely moved into a corner and ignored, their captors content that the women were no longer a threat.

  That was only a valid assumption when it only took five snakes to hold an angry chef. The sixth had turned and added his weight, in that moment when Daniel might have broken from their control again. They had held him.

  Iruoma’s scowl was a thing of serene beauty in Daniel’s mind. Her rage was as great as his, at least.

  She broke free.

  The others were still bound, mentally trapped, just as Iruoma had been. Their anger was a background scent coming in from the window. Iruoma’s rage was a grease fire erupting in the middle of the stove right in front of you. It would not be contained.

  They turned to capture her again, but Daniel grabbed them in turn. He couldn’t hold them long.

  He didn’t have to.

  Iruoma erupted.

  A hand flashed to a pistol, drew, fired. It was over so quickly that Daniel nearly missed it, even looking right at the goddess of destruction herself.

  But suddenly only five minds held him.

  He snarled and wrapped mental arms around the five. He didn’t have to hold them long. Just hold them.

  Iruoma slew a second ishtan with her beam.

  Four.

  You can’t stop me now.

  He reached out to crush the four remaining when his mind exploded.

  Fifty

  “What in the hells of Grish is that thing?” A’Alhakoth yelled at Kamsichor as the side of the Turtle erupted in a massive fireball.

  Around her, the hull of WinterStar began to rock and thump with energy. She had never been in a space battle before, but A’Alhakoth’s teen daydreams recognized the setting she had blundered into.

  “The Septagon is firing on us,” Kamsichor called back, frantically pushing buttons. “Several Patrols are in flight, but currently aiming themselves at the Turtle.”

  A’Alhakoth had the impression that this should be a job for half a dozen women, but there was nothing she could do to help right now.

  Except give orders. Kamsichor Obiajunwa had a frantic look in her eyes when she glanced up.

  “Open fire on the Septagon,” she said with a quick gulp. “Who else is aboard?”

  “Adann
e is aft in engineering,” Kamsichor barked back as her hands started to fly across various controls. “We can’t stand against a Septagon. We’re not powerful enough, even if we weren’t short-handed.”

  “No, but we can distract it from attacking the Turtle or SeekerStar,” A’Alhakoth said simply. “Is there anything aboard that needs to be removed before we end up being destroyed in battle?”

  “Our lives,” the woman said.

  “Maybe,” A’Alhakoth countered with a snarl. “Comitatus. If we have to die, then we make sure we charge them a damned high price.”

  The older woman laughed, and suddenly the hull of the Septagon glowed as one of the turrets scored a hit. A’Alhakoth had no idea what they might do against a small city in space, but she had taken an oath.

  “Message from Kathra,” Kamsichor said.

  “WinterStar, what are you doing?” the Commander asked in a sharp tone.

  “Fighting,” A’Alhakoth said. “You should withdraw while you can.”

  Around her, the hull thumped again and again as the big ship found the range. How much damage the ship could take, she had no idea. Kamsichor was probably just as much at sea.

  Nothing in A’Alhakoth’s studies had suggested that the Mbaysey had ever fought a pitched battle against any force capable of standing. Just pirates they chased off, or Patrols they fled from.

  Today would be different.

  The hull rang.

  “WinterStar, you have command of rescue operations,” Kathra suddenly said.

  It took A’Alhakoth a moment to understand what the Commander was saying. SeekerStar and the Spectres couldn’t do anything against a force like this.

  Except die.

  Kathra Omezi had survived as long as she had by understanding when to run away. The Mbaysey as a tribe was more important than its members. Either here or those over on the Star Turtle. The Star Tribe needed to survive.

  More bangs. Lights sputtered and recovered a moment later.

  “What’s the Septagon doing?” A’Alhakoth asked.