Date: Fri, 9 May 2003 22:11:38 -0500
From: Frank Dennis <FrankDennis@indy.rr.com>
Subject: The Dream of the Stars: Part One
The Dream of the Stars
PART ONE
*****
The starship Freeport Ranger shot out of its quantum
translation gate at 20% of the speed of light. As her
gravitmetric field flared to life, protecting the fragile
crew from the lethal g-forces of deceleration, the
translation gate behind her lost it's energies to higher
dimensions of space-time and boiled away into the vacuum.
Some 300,000 kilometers away, the planet Beta Draconis IV
glittered like a jewel against the void of space's eternal
night. Beta Draconis IV was what all the stellar almanacs
called the planet. It's inhabitants, and most of the rest
of known space, called it Haven. As it's name implied, it
was a place for those unwanted, and in some cases wanted
badly dead or alive, by other systems to set up shop and
home. Possessed of extremely, sometimes unconscionably,
liberal laws on production, commerce, gambling, and a host
of other issues, Haven was incredibly harsh when it came to
it's own welfare and independence. It closely checked every
incoming flight for signs of out-system intelligence
operatives, and fiercely protected it's citizens' safety and
liberties, sometimes with brutal force. The punishment for
a large percentage of crimes was death. Of course, a great
many things that were crimes elsewhere weren't crimes on
Haven, and the populace being what it was, there still
needed to be a mechanism for men of power to dispose of
rivals and liabilities. Hence, the institution of
registered dueling, and also fairly simple self-defense
laws. If the other guy started it, he deserves what he
gets. The common trader had little to worry about from the
authorities on Haven, and far more to worry about from his
business contacts. The Freeport Ranger's crew, though, was
anything but common.
*****
"Here we are, Haven. the home of cutthroats and system
lords. Ash, plot us an approach vector, I'll contact
station control for our clearance." I'm probably the only
free-trader Captain in the quadrant who's not his own pilot,
thought Dexter Logan. But then, none of the other Captains
had Ash. Dex didn't mind being the operations officer on
his own bridge, 'cause he still called the shots, and his
crew's collective ass had been saved more than once by
Ashley Garret's skills as a flyboy. Skills hell, he thought
with love, the man's a fuckin' marvel. "Let's try to avoid
trouble on this run, guys? We can only hope they don't
cross-reference our ID's outside the system." The love
deepened. I'm lucky he's mine. Turning his attention back
to the matter at hand, he accessed the Ranger's external
sensor suite and started running the standard sets of
condition assessment programs. While they were gathering
their data, he activated the ship's communications array,
and as it slid out of its hull recess, targeted Haven's
orbiting star port for a hailing channel.
As if sensing his friend's attention, Ash looked up
from his console as Dex set about his job. He's getting
worked up over this deal, poor guy, he thought. He grinned
to himself. I'll have to get Dex down to the ship's gym for
a few rounds, work off some steam. They made a great team,
he and Dex. The fact that they both loved combat sports,
and each other, was just icing on the cake. His board
signaled a navigation alarm to him, the star port having
acknowledged their vessel's ID and docking request. A
vector for docking bay EE-385 sprang up on his astrogation
screen, and station control took advantage of the open comm
channel Dex had left them to greet them in Haven's
traditional style.
"Starship Freeport Ranger, you are cleared for docking.
Do not deviate from your course, do not attempt to deep-scan
Haven or this station. You are required to log your on-
board activities and transactions with station control. Any
planet side business transactions are to be filed with the
Guild of Commerce. You will be scanned for contraband, and
the right to board and inspect is reserved by the governing
body of Haven. End Transmission."
"They're never going to get any nicer, are they?"
wondered Cole. Cole Vaughn was the ship's weapons officer.
"And what're you grinning at, Ash? You're gonna have to
stay on-board after what you got into here last time."
"Hey, it's no sweat. I can use the time to train up my
ground fighting game." He grinned in Dex's direction.
Dex didn't even look up from his board, though a smile
was plastered on his face. "Well, you do need all the help
you can get."
Cole laughed. "Fuck, you two, I swear.... one of
these days you're gonna land each other in the medical bay
with some serious hurts on... what're we gonna do for
command crew while you heal up?"
"Hey, you should join us more often, Cole," said Dex.
"It's a tough galaxy, and we're in a tough business to boot.
And it's not like you can just shoot the guy trying to beat
your head in, not with personal kinetic shields and EMP-
sinks. It's all hand to hand, mano-a-mano."
"Please, Captain. I can take care of myself,
training's damn well required for anyone who wants to sign
up with you and live through the month. You two, though...
I've never seen two men so into takin' a beating." He gave
it two seconds.
"Giving a beating!" the command crew said in unison.
They were grinning like maniacs at each other.
Okay, half a second, Cole thought.
Freeport Ranger was within 2,500 kilometers of Haven's
star port when she slowed to 1 km/sec. Arcing round the
massive space station, Ash headed for a rendezvous with the
docking bay assembly on it's far side. "Final RCS burn in
six minutes, Dex. We'll match orbit with the station in
another ten. Think we'll have time to refit the thermal-
exhaust system while we're docked? It shouldn't take much
longer than offloading our cargo, and there're some less
than ideal ratings coming back from the diagnostic
programs."
"Yeah, we should. I'm kind of hoping we can get this
run done quickly, though. We could all use some downtime,
and this place isn't my idea of a vacation spot. We just
dump our load, collect our fee, and gate to the nearest
tropical planet."
"Amen to that!" said Cole.
Dex opened the intercom to the drive bay. "Stuart, how
fast can you maintenance the thermal exhaust system?"
"Well, radiating the heat we built up over the last
couple gate maneuver will take about forty minutes, so call
it two hours, maybe three." Stuart Krauss was Dex's drive
system specialist.
"Alright, that's plenty of time. Cole and Danny come
with me to meet our contact. Ash, you and Jack can help Stu
get the heat-dumpers refit. Once we've made contact and
settled the transaction, Danny can start bringing the cargo
pods down." Danny Williams was the Ranger's cargo handler.
Jack Carrin was their life support systems specialist.
"Do we have an extraction plan in case someone gets
arrested this time?" Cole asked wryly. "This was a pretty
long haul, and our profit margin is too wonderful to hex
with a government bite out of it."
"Well, I'm staying here this time," Ash said, "So the
only one's liable to get himself in trouble is Dex." He
grinned at his Captain and partner.
"Well, that's good then," said Dexter. "If I do get
picked up, you're still here to bust me out."
*****
Haven's orbital star port was a huge rotating
cylindrical space station with non-rotating spherical
docking bays at each end. Mankind had developed the
technology of artificial gravity along with the Quantum
Translation Drive and the host of other miraculous
technologies that came with Science learning to map the wave
function of the universe, the key to the lock of quantum
cosmology. In something as massive as a space station,
however, the ancient method of using centrifugal force to
simulate gravity was far cheaper in power and just as
effective. The station's interior was comprised of a series
of concentric shells, providing thirty levels of living
quarters and commercial areas hundreds of square kilometers
in area. The closer to the outside a level laid, the closer
to standard the gravity. Each level was basically a city
onto itself, with thousands of residents and transient
starship crews. The outermost level, with the highest
gravity, the best view, and easiest (and therefore most
expensive) access to the outside was reserved for the rich,
and for the station's operational crew. The closer to the
center the level, the cheaper and seedier it became. At the
center were the power systems and bio-reclamation sections.
Not deigning to travel through the less desirable elements
of their habitat, the techs from Level 1 had direct access
crew lifts to use when they needed to get at the hub for
maintenance.
Two-thirds of the way down the cylinder from the
"north" docking bay assembly, on Level 28, a small group of
people in an unobtrusive residential chamber watched the
arrival of the Freeport Ranger on a holoscreen that had a
tapped feed from the station's security sensors. Two were
Human, the remaining five were Voracites. Nearly 7 feet
tall, and weighing 300 pounds plus each, the Voracites were
one of the most physically imposing sentients in known
space. Hugely thick slabs of muscle and steely sinew flexed
under their deep burgundy skin with every movement. They
were a very intelligent, technologically capable species,
possessed of a fierce and cold brutality. They thought
little of other species, and took no pains to hide that
fact. Only the parity of technology, a nearly inevitable by-
product of attaining star flight, that they shared with the
rest of the galaxy's inhabitants kept them from hunting the
"lesser" races for sport. And, in truth, by the Voracites'
definition, most others were certainly lesser. The most
important consideration for a Voracite was whether or not
someone could best them in single combat. Very, very few
could.
"The have arrived as scheduled, Frax." The man who
spoke turned to face the Voracite nearest him, the largest
of them, and clearly their leader. "As I told you they
would. There's no need for your constant threats and
posturing, I'm a man of my word. Are you?"
"Take care with your words, Human. I am not a man at
all, I am a Voracite Warrior, Alpha of my tribe." Frax's
eyes flashed. "All you have earned yourself with their
arrival is the right to continue breathing. For now. After
the mission has passed it's point of no return, and your
duty is discharged, you will have added to that the reward
agreed upon when we began this."
"Fuck, you're incapable of saying anything that doesn't
smack of melodrama aren't you?" As Frax's bright green eyes
flashed, the man held up his hand. "And before you remind
me how close to death I am, may I remind you that now they
have arrived, I am the only one capable of bringing this
mission to it's successful conclusion? They're expecting
me, and would trust no one else with this cargo. You can no
more kill me now than I could take you in a fistfight, and
you know it. And as for later... well... I've taken
measures to insure my own success." He turned to face the
screen again, and watched as the starship slowed to a stop,
perfectly aligned with the docking clamps. The micro-
newtons of inertia it retained were just perfect to bring it
into contact with the clamps, and they locked down onto the
contact points. No need for corrections or re-alignments.
That kind of piloting was not merely impressive, it was
unheard of for a biological pilot. The Human was quite
impressed. He sighed. "I'll almost regret the necessity to
kill him."
*****
Having finally made it through Inspection,
Decontamination, and Customs checks, Dexter, Cole, and Danny
climbed into one of the large lifts that ran from the
spaceport down to the habitat levels. "Well, at least we've
bought Stu his first hour and a half," grumbled Danny.
"Could be worse." Dex said with a grin.
"How?"
"Could be raining."
Cole chuckled. "You always say that... you know of
course that it couldn't possibly rain in here. Where the
fuck did you get that from?"
"Only one of the greatest comedic minds of the second
millennium. If you had any taste for classical media, you'd
know that."
"I'll leave the fascination with the arcane for you,
thanks." said Cole. "Okay, so tell me again why we're
bringing seven hundred tons of highly common and
unremarkable quartzite ore to good Mr. Collins?"
Dex sighed. He just knew he was going to have to go
through this at least once more. "Because, that highly
common ore has been interphase imprinted with the quantum
signature of the very uncommon and, on Haven, highly illegal
metal vallidium, which they need to make their QT Drive
cores. When they pass it through a quantum phase
rectification chamber, the matter will reorganize itself
into their new fortune."
"Which can also be used to make quantum bombs, reality-
graphics projectors, and a lot of other toys that span the
continuum of morality and legality between them. Given
Haven's demographics, I'm not surprised that vallidium's
totally illegal, despite it's many benign uses. And I know
we're getting paid an obscene amount of money to bring it
here because of it. But why? Why bring it eight thousand
light-years across the galaxy? If they have the chamber to
re-sequence it, why not just convert some of the material
they already have? They could have a whole fucking asteroid
of vallidium if they wanted it!"
"You're right, I can't make sense of it either. Maybe
they're trying to make an ally out of the group that
provided the imprint, or maybe they have the QPR chamber but
not the quantum signature of vallidium. I don't know. But,
we've scanned a thousand samples of the stuff in the
Ranger's chamber, and there's nothing there but the
signature for vallidium. And unless they've gotten a sudden
breakthrough in scanner technology, the local cops can't
scan our whole cargo, just the samples they take. Now,
we've been very clever, and all the samples they got were un-
imprinted lumps of quartz. I'm sure the cops think we're
shady, or at least crazy, but we're legal, and all we have
to do is offload the stuff and collect our pay. Now, would
you please not badger me anymore, or I'll be forced to shove
you out the nearest airlock."
"Okay, okay."
"So, this doesn't bother you at all, Captain? It is
pretty weird." said Danny.
"Oh, no. This bothers the fuck outta me." Dex said,
suddenly frowning. "We've gotta be sharp, boys. But, it's
more money than we'll see in any ten other charters short of
outright smuggling. I'm not about to pass it up."
Cole and Danny exchanged a glance, and then Cole
cleared his throat loudly. "Um, Captain? Technically, it
is outright smuggling..."
*****
Level 3 Commerce Zone B-24 Subsection 5 was one of the
high-end market areas. Not top-of-the-range, but nice
enough that it didn't need to go by the name of Level 3
Commerce Zone B-24 Subsection 5. It was instead called The
Baron's Market. The Baron was a nearly legendary figure
among the plutocrats of Haven's orbital super city, one of
the first hugely successful Human entrepreneurs in the
system, and his company headquarters had been in what was
now the Market. His company's industrial stations were
still in operation, up on Level 15, but were now owned by a
multi-system conglomerate.
Dex, Cole, and Danny emerged into the neon holographic
haze of the Market's main strip, an avenue fifty meters wide
that ran right through the center of the zone, wrapping a
quarter of the way around the stations' circumference.
Advertisements for everything from starships to sex-slaves
flared silently over their heads. Due to the tremendous
crowding of the street's airspace, none of the advertisers
bothered with sound.
"We're supposed to meet Collins at the Gemfire Bar.
According to the address he gave me, it's two streets to the
left, about a hundred meters up." Dex set off through the
crowd, his crew a step behind him. They were a common sight
to the locals, a group of starship crewers on their way to
buy something, or sell it. The crowd noticed enough to part
fairly easily for them, though. Dex cut a powerful figure,
for a Human. He stood 6 feet 2 inches tall, and 230 pounds
of solid muscle. His baggy cargo pants hid thick tree-truck
legs and meaty, muscled calves, but his washboard abs, thick
bulging pecs and cannonball shoulders were on display in the
tight grey t-shirt he wore. His massive arms and club like
forearms bore a couple tattoos in ancient Earth tribal
patterns. Dark hair, bright blue eyes and a lean face
topped it off. Dex always led the way in crowds. He drew
attention, and he knew it. He loved it.
Cole and Danny walked a step behind him, drinking in
the sights, and, incidentally, keeping a keen but subtle eye
for anyone tailing them or taking too much interest in them.
Only in the company of Dex or Ash would they not draw
attention in their own right. Danny was a redhead, with
green eyes, a very light dusting of freckles, and boyish
face. At 190 pounds and 6 feet tall, he had the lean hard
body of a classic Thai kickboxer. Cole had light brown eyes
and hair, a rugged face covered in a day's stubble, and a
build in the proportions of Dex, though he was 40 pounds
lighter and 4 inches shorter. Physical fitness was
something Dex wanted in his crews, and the level of training
they maintained built on that, to say nothing of the fact
that Dex's love of contact sports and intense workouts
usually rubbed off on everyone.
The group reached the Gemfire without incident, though
Cole was pretty sure he'd picked up a couple undercover cops
tailing them. They kept their distance, though, and didn't
seem to be too keyed up. Probably just wondering why we've
brought a shitload of useless rock here, he thought. Still,
Dex's crew hadn't done anything illegal, and if later, after
Collins' group used their quantum bombs, the connection was
made to the Freeport Ranger, well... they wouldn't have to
bring a cargo within a hundred light-years of here after
this charter, if they didn't want to. They'd be bloody damn
rich. I don't believe for a minute that they're building QT
Drives, he thought. I doubt Dex does either. Still,
Haven's a pesthole, and I'm not gonna lose sleep over what
these guys do to themselves. The cops didn't even follow
them in.
As they walked into the bar's dim interior, a thin
bearded man in a very nice and expensive business suit took
notice of Dex and walked over to them. His head barely
reached Cole's chin. Dex towered over the man. Quentin
Collins extended his hand, and Dexter's engulfed it in a
handshake. "Ah, Captain Logan, a pleasure to see you again.
Glad you made it in one piece, eight thousand light-years is
a damn long flight." He turned and gestured into the crowd.
"Our table's waiting, I believe. If you'd follow me?" He
started off. Dex looked back at Cole, who gave him the all
clear. No heavies were on top of them. They started off
after Collins.
"The Ranger's pretty big, for a private trader. She's
well equipped, too. It really wasn't such a tough flight."
Dex loved his ship, and got a little defensive when someone
implied his baby was less than perfect.
"Don't be modest, Captain. There are a few other
private traders the size of the Freeport Ranger, some
larger. And though I have no doubt she's got all the best
systems, the fact is some starships never travel more than
two thousand light-years from their home port, and most
don't go more than five or six. You traveled eight
thousand, and as far as I know, the Freeport Ranger doesn't
even have a home port. You've really quite impressed us."
Quentin Collins smiled his most dapper and elegant smile,
and poured them all a measure of the thick amber liquid from
the bottle in front of him into the crystal shotglasses on
the table. Cole noted the label on the bottle. Southern
Comfort Whiskey, bottled in 2110, at the original distillery
on Earth. A 740-year-old bottle of booze. Fuck me, this
stuff's worth more than our combat spaceplane. Where's this
guy getting his funding?
Dex accepted the full shotglass from Collins, and held
it in the air as though proposing a toast. "Well, on behalf
of the Freeport Ranger and her crew, thanks for the
compliment.", he said, and downed the thick liquor. He
didn't even bat an eye at it. "Now, if we could get down to
business?"
Cole gulped his own shot, and used a considerable
effort of will not to wince as it scorched his gullet. He
shot a glance at Danny. To the outside observer, Danny was
as unaffected as any of them, but Cole knew his oldest buddy
in the galaxy. The man was on the edge of spluttering.
Cole fought down a grin.
Collins raised his own glass, and downed his bourbon.
He sat the shotglass down and spoke immediately, without the
slightest quaver in his voice. Cole was vaguely jealous.
"Straight to the heart of it, eh? Excellent, Captain. We
are ready to receive the shipment of quartz from you. We
have a cargo bay secured for our use in the same docking
sphere your starship is currently residing in. We also have
a cargo shuttle if you are not in possession of one, though
I'm sure you are. If it's amenable to you, we will inspect
a random sampling of the cargo from each shuttle load, and
if it meets our purity requirements, we'll transfer payment
in full, plus standard hazard and shipment expenses, to your
accounts."
"You have proof of the available payment, of course?"
Dexter asked.
"Of course." Collins replied smoothly. He drew a
Galactic Bank module from his suit and activated it. Dex
drew his own and ran a query on Collins' module. Sure
enough, the required 200 million credits were there, along
with several times the amount.
"Normally, given how difficult it is to crack and
simulate the Bank's encryption sequence, I'd accept this.
But, this is a huge investment for us, and a huge payment,
too. I'm afraid I'll need more than just a credit module
that says you have my money." Dex said. His eyes never left
Collins'.
To his credit, Collins didn't blink. Sentients of many
species had been known to whither under the fierce Logan
gaze. "I had anticipated this difficulty, Captain." He
pulled another small device from his suit, and laid it on
the table. It was stamped with the star port's logo. "This
is a government issued net-comm server, guaranteed by the
Haven state. Its authentication routines are exhaustive and
complex. Given Haven's paranoia of outside intelligence
agency infiltration, and fierce protection of its
independence and the rights of its 'upstanding' citizens,
you have some idea of just how complex they are. You can
run as many requests to whatever net addresses you like,
through whatever links you desire, until you're satisfied of
it's authenticity and security. Then, all you need do is
access our account from the local Bank node through this
module's data channel, and you'll see we're on the level.
More and better proof I cannot give you."
"Thank you." Not for a minute inclined to take Collins
at his word, Dex used his own net-comm to access the
Ranger's flight computer, and had it run several thousand
random address checks through the Haven net-comm. Once he
was satisfied, he checked Collins' account again. The
figures came back the same. "Mr. Collins, I believe we have
a deal." He offered his hand.
"Excellent, Captain. You may begin transferring the
cargo, our people will meet yours at cargo bay RW-993. The
station's infonet will have the location for you." He
poured another round. "Care to join me for a few more?
It's on me."
"Certainly, thanks. Danny, head back to the Ranger and
start getting the cargo offloaded. We'll meet you back at
the ship in a few. Have Stu give me a head's up at least
thirty minutes before he's done with his overhaul."
"Sure thing, Captain." Danny replied. He stood up,
threw a wave and a wink Cole's way, and headed for the door.
Cole didn't worry about him getting jumped on the way back,
Danny was tough, and smart enough to signal for help if he
saw something coming he couldn't handle. Cole turned his
attention back to the table. He had to admit, Collins
seemed on the up and up, and he really couldn't have
provided them with better proof. He picked up his
shotglass, and sat back to enjoy hanging with the big boys.
So why was he still so nervous?
*****
Danny ran into only a little trouble on his way back to
the Ranger. A couple of Garumens traders decided to relieve
him of his valuables three sections away from the Gemfire.
Or rather, attempted to relieve him. Danny saw it coming at
least 3 minutes before they struck; he'd noticed one of them
tailing him.
Ahead lay a narrow and rather poorly lit corridor leading to
the lift lobby for the docking bay. At the moment, it was
fairly empty. Just my luck to be out walking around during
happy hour, he thought grimly.
Two-thirds of the way up the corridor, the Garumen
waiting in ambush struck, leaping from behind a support
pillar and attempting to clock Danny with a wild roundhouse.
Danny stepped back smoothly, and when the large sentient was
off-balance, grabbed his outstretched wrist, pulled the arm
taut, and hammered a palm strike against the outside of the
elbow joint all in a fast ballet of deadly force. The joint
shattered, bone splintering with an audible crack. The
Garumen screamed, and while he was occupied with that Danny
stepped back and hammered a front thrust kick into the
being's chest. Another snap of bone, and the muscled brute
stumbled back a few meters and fell to the floor. He stayed
there, whimpering quietly.
The whole exchange had taken only three seconds, and
Danny turned to deal with the assailant behind him even as
the first one was falling to the ground. However, he'd
misjudged how much the other Garumen had closed in on him
since the last time he'd had a chance to look back at it.
As he completed his turn, expecting plenty of room to work,
the hulking, low-browed mountain of blue-skinned muscle was
right on top of him. The thing was at least as big and
built as Dexter. Before he could step back and get some
room to work, the creature snatched him up in a brutal
bearhug.
Danny's breath exploded from him as the monster
squeezed, its right hand locked around it's left wrist, and
digging into his spine. He could feel it's iron hard biceps
pushing into his lats, and it's chest swelled against his
straining muscles as it grunted in satisfaction. He started
to see spots, and felt his ribs bending under the pressure.
Grunting savagely, he slammed his head forward into the
Garumen's face, pulping its nose. It screamed in pain and
dropped him, stumbling back a couple paces.
Without even pausing to catch his breath, Danny stepped
inside his assailant's guard, and hammered one blow after
another into its head and midsection. His torso protested
fiercely, every explosive movement he made bringing waves of
pain down his side, in his ribs, and his lungs burned like
mad. He didn't slow down. Stepping back while the thing
was dazed, he leveled a brutal kick at it's knee joint, and
when it came crashing down to it's knees, he stepped back
and brought a right roundhouse kick full bore into the
thing's head. It's neck snapped loudly, and it dropped to
the floor.
Danny slumped against the wall, gulping air in deep
ragged breaths, letting the fiery tide of adrenaline ebb in
his veins. The thing had probably broken at least two of
his ribs, but other than that he was okay, so far as he
knew. He waited and allowed his breathing to steady, then
pulled his net-comm from his pocket. No way was he going to
let Cole hear him out of breath. He keyed for Dex's comm.
"Danny, what's up?" came Dex's voice.
"A couple Garumens tried to jump me near the docking
bay lift." he replied.
"You okay?" Dexter asked. There was concern in his
voice, but not too much, and neither worry nor panic. He
knew what his officers were capable of.
"Yeah, I'm fine, but I had to kill one of them, and
really put the hurt on the other one. The internal sensors
will show they jumped me, so I should be ok, but the cops
are already on their way, I'm sure. You want me to hang
around for them?" Danny asked.
"No, I don't want to delay the cargo transfer more than
we have to. Log a notice in the cops' message-net to see me
about the incident, and head back to the ship. I'm the
Captain, I'll be responsible for your actions." There was a
pause. "So, how long did it take?"
"Um, I'd say about forty seconds."
"Only forty seconds, for two Garumens? Impressive."
said Dexter. Danny could hear the grin in his voice.
"Whoo! That's my boy!" Cole crowed.
*****
It took Danny a little over a half-hour to make his way
back to the docking bays.
"What happened to you?" asked Ash when the Ranger's
cargo handler came back. Danny was holding his side as he
stepped from the airlock into the ship's cargo hold. Ash
and Jack were replacing the processor node that governed the
thermal-exhaust shunts on the port side of the ship. Stu
was currently EVA, taking care of the shunts and radiator
assemblies themselves.
"Got jumped on the way back. Nothing serious, just got
a couple ribs busted." he replied.
"You give as good as you got?" asked Jack.
"Please, orders of magnitude better. They're probably
still lying there." he said, mock outrage in his voice.
Then his voice took on a more serious note. "One of them
definitely is."
"Damn. Sorry, Danny. it's never easy is it? But,
sometimes it's you or them. Who were they?" asked Ash as he
linked up the new node and started diagnostic programs
running.
"A couple of Garumens." Danny said.
"Damn! A couple? Remind me to not piss you off, man,
you're a fucking terror!" Ash said.
"Yeah, I know." Danny's cool demeanor was spoiled when
he pulled his shirt off over his head, gasping and wincing
as his muscled flexed against his broken ribs. There were
bright red marks on both sides of his muscular torso.
Jack chuckled. "Come on, champ, let's get you down to
the med bay." He clapped his hand on Danny's big shoulder
and grinned at him.
"No time, I've gotta start hauling their goodies down.
I'll just wrap it up for now." He grabbed a length of
bandage from the cargo bay's medkit and starting wrapping
his ribs. Jack stepped over to help him out. "Wanna help
me get the cargo shuttle prepped?" Danny asked when they
were finished.
"Sure thing." They started to head for the cargo
shuttle's hanger.
The intercom channel opened with a ping. "Hey, guys?"
came Stu's voice, faintly nervous.
Ash stepped over to the comm-panel and tapped a key.
"Yeah, Stu, what's up?" he asked.
"Have we hired any local maintenance crews that I don't
know about?"
"No, of course not, why?" asked Ash, with growing
unease.
"Because, there's a bunch of guys coming into this bay
with tech waldo attachments for their spacesuits. Of
course, maintenance crews usually use lights..." There was
a very pregnant pause. "Um, scratch that, they don't have
tech waldos."
"What do they have?" asked Ash, already knowing as much
of the answer as he needed to.
"Plasma-pulse assault rifles."
"Oh, fuck!"
*****
After Danny's call, Dexter experienced a sudden
foreboding. One of his crew had been attacked, in one of
the fairly low-crime levels, and by a group of sentients who
generally don't mess with people they don't have a grudge
with. If it were me or Ash, I could see them having a
grudge, he thought wryly. But Danny doesn't have any
personal enemies. He's too nice. He caught Cole's eye, and
could tell his buddy was ready to split, too.
He stood up. "Well, Mr. Collins, it's been a pleasure,
but it looks like I'm going to have to go play damage
control with the cops. Hopefully your cargo transfer won't
be delayed too long. Thanks for the drinks." He stood up,
and Cole did likewise. Collins remained where he was.
That's rude, thought Dex. Then he noticed the look in
Collins' eye.
"I'm afraid I'll have to add a small item to our
initial contract," said Quentin Collins.
Dex and Cole stepped away from the table, knocking
their chairs over. "Go!" shouted Dex.
Suddenly, the lights in the Gemfire Bar went dead, and
the doors all slammed shut. It was pitch black inside.
"Sorry, this won't help you." said Dex calmly. "We're both
excellent in blindfolded combat."
"I know." came the voice of Collins, still standing at
their table. "Fortunately for me, I have no need to fight
you at all." There came the sudden bright flash and
ultrasonic pulse of a stun grenade. Dexter cursed himself;
he should've seen it coming. As he vainly fought
unconsciousness, his senses began to shut down. The last
thing he heard was the sound of Cole's body hitting the
floor beside him.
*****
Consciousness returned slowly to Dexter, though his
forming thoughts noticed that he didn't feel weak,
disoriented, or fuzzyheaded the way stun grenades usually
left him. In fact, he couldn't feel the effects of the
whiskey at all, either. He sat up and looked around for
Cole, but his officer wasn't in the room with him. Then he
noticed two more things. His clothes were gone, and in
their place he'd been clad in form fitting fight shorts.
His hard muscles gleamed in the harsh lights.
That was the second thing he'd noticed. He was in the
middle of a big room, under bright lights, a mat under his
feet. Clearly, a fighting ring, and round the outside, just
visible in the darkness, he could see a gallery of
spectators, mostly Human, but with other sentients scattered
among them. He noticed all of them were at least as young
as him and built like fighters. All, that is, except
Quentin Collins.
"I'm sorry about the need to knock you out, but I'm
fairly sure you'd not have cooperated in this little venture
voluntarily. I took the liberty of administering a mild
stimulant to counteract the effects of the grenade. I
wanted you at full alertness for this. Before you try to
come kill me," said Collins, holding up his hand as Dex
approached him, "you should know that I have of course
placed a forcefield around the ring. I'm afraid you're here
for the duration."
Dex backed off, and stood proud in the center of the
ring. "Okay, I'll bite. The duration of what?"
"In the short term, the duration of my amusement.
You're tough, Logan, and your reputation precedes you. I'm
curious to see how tough you really are. In the long view,
several things. In order of occurrence, they'll be the
invasion of Haven, the use of you by the Voracites to learn
the secrets of Human success, your own demise, and the
conquest of the galaxy by the Voracites. Actually, I guess
you won't be here for that last bit. My apologies. Feel
free to ask all the questions you like, I feel you're
entitled to know why you're dying before we begin." Collins
sat back and crossed his arms.
"Well, I don't really need to ask why the Voracites
want to conquer the galaxy, being bastards is part of their
nature." Dexter paused. "What do you mean, the secret of
Human success? We're no more successful than any other
sentient species. And why do they think they can learn it
from me?"
"Really, Logan. For someone who claims to love
history... as to your first question, I mean that we as a
species developed into a star faring civilization faster
than any other known, much faster... in most cases, by
millennia. Those of us living now don't notice it, or give
it much thought if we do, because we live with a general
parity of technology with most of the races we encounter.
We're just the same as everyone else, right? But how we got
here is positively extraordinary. And what about our
mastery of quantum cosmology? Our wondrous Quantum
Translation Drive, our solution for artificial gravity...
many of the technologies we take for granted. Again, yes,
other races have solutions to these needs, but the solutions
themselves and the developmental histories of the
technologies can vary widely. Take the big one, starflight:
can you name another species who's stardrive is as elegant,
runs for as little cost of energy, is as safe, and can cover
as much distance in a single usage? Yes, there are some
that excel in one area or another, but not many, and none
that exceed or even match the QTD in all categories. We are
amazing, really. It's almost as if we've been getting help
all these centuries. The Voracites think so, and they want
that help for themselves."
Collins paused, taking a long drink from a glass
sitting beside him. Dex noticed for the first time that
while the rest of the arena seating was commonplace, meaning
row after row of grungy benches, Quentin's ringside seat was
a wingback leather chair, with a small table at his side.
Collins sat his glass back down and continued. "As to why
you, well. They didn't care what Human they used, but they
took my suggestion and chose you. I must admit, part of me
merely wanted you here for this. I'm a slight man, as you
can see, and not well equipped for personal combat. But, I
do find a certain pleasure in the spectacle, and you're sure
to provide an excellent one." He paused for a smile.
"However, I really am interested in the results of the
Voracites' tests on you. You are preposterously lucky,
Captain. Not merely a successful starship Captain at the
very tender age of twenty-two, you are a hugely successful
one. You are traveling more, making more money, than any of
your contemporaries. If you keep going at the rate you are,
you'll be able to retire at the age of thirty-five. No one
is that good, Captain. No one. If there is a shadowy hand
helping Humanity, you seem to be getting extra special
attention."
"How do you know it's me?" Dexter asked. "All you can
see is that the Ranger's successful, but that could be the
ship, or one of my crew. Or nothing at all! What makes you
think I'm anything more than lucky? This is crazy!"
"Yes, that had occurred to me, but you seem to provide
independent evidence of personal 'luck', shall we say."
Collins replied.
"How's that?" Dexter asked, curious in spite of
himself.
"I should've thought that was obvious, Captain. Your
astonishing skills as a pilot."
He nearly said it. Ash is our pilot. It took every
iota of willpower he had to give nothing away in that
moment. Oh, fuck, Ash... no. Ash, buddy, I swear they
won't get you, man. I'll die first. I swear. A storm raged
in his head, his love for Ash nearly betraying him. He
waited a moment while he got control of himself. After he'd
gotten a hold on his emotions, he realized there were many
questions left unanswered. He needed to take advantage of
this opportunity to find out about what was happening.
It seemed, though, that his time was up.
"Well, Captain, I'm afraid our schedule doesn't allow
for a longer question and answer session. It's time we got
this show on the road. I'm running a sort of test of my
own, you see. Not only do I get to observe your skills in
battle, but can see how much your so-called luck does press
the boundaries of probability. This arena is a reality-
graphic, you see, as is the fighter you're about to
encounter. As you fight it's program will continue to
improve. Until you break." Collins smiled. "Let's get
started, yes?"
A human male, very young in the face, maybe 17 or 18
years of age, rose from the crowd. Despite his youthful
appearance, he was as tall as Dex, and built as powerfully,
he even looked to be a few pounds heavier. His muscles
gleamed in the lights, clad only in a pair of fight shorts
like Dex's. Of course, this being a reality-graphic
simulation, Collins could make his fighter whatever size,
shape, and species he wanted. His form had nothing to do
with the strength and skills aspects of his program.
The fighter stepped up to the ringside. The forcefield
around the ring shut down, the atmospheric molecules
comprising the shield losing their cohesion as the super-
valency field vanished. The solid, armor-like wall of air
surrounding the ring became insubstantial gas once again,
and the youth stepped into the ring. The field snapped on
behind him, and the air solidified into a transparent wall
once more. The youth grinned, and took a ready stance. Dex
responded in kind. As much as he wanted to get free and get
back to his shipmates, he forced the part of his mind
running escape scenarios to focus on the fight. Collins
was, if nothing else, clearly a sadist, and Dex knew he'd
need his full attention and energy for this fight.
"Begin." Collins said.
The youth shot forward with quick steps, feinting to
the left and then coming around with a sharp right aimed at
Dex's head. It didn't telegraph it's intentions, didn't
have any tells at all. Only Dex's instincts were serving
him here. He saw the feint coming, and as the youth
committed itself to throwing the right, he was already
coming in on its left with a vicious hook. His fist slammed
into the youth's head, knocking it badly off balance and
sending it stumbling back and to the right. Dex stepped in
while it was reeling and hooked it's left arm with his left,
locking it down with his hand over its shoulder blade, and
stepped behind it, keeping it off balance. He hammered a
blow into its kidneys, and then threw it down onto its
stomach, keeping its arm trapped and coming down on top of
it.
"Oh, Bravo! Very nice, Captain, though that is a
relatively low skill setting. In deference to your advanced
skills, I think we'll skip a few levels as we advance the
difficulty." Collins pressed a switch on a module sitting
on his small table.
Suddenly, the youth turned into Dex, bringing its arm
free. Dex tried to snag it's leg, to keep it under him, but
he wasn't prepared for how much faster it had become. The
youth threw its weight upward with its arms, and got a leg
under itself. Slamming an arm around Dex's midsection, the
thing powered him down onto the ground and started to work
for a side mount. At least he seems to have the strength
setting on a realistic level, Dex thought, though that was
cold comfort, since the damn thing was as strong as he was
anyway. Of course, that hardly mattered, since Collins
would simply keep upping it's talents until it killed him.
But he was damned if he'd lay back and let it happen.
Dex lifted his hips and slid away from the youth, using
his free hand to fire a jab into its head. It reached up to
ward off the blow, which let Dex step back and take his feet
again. As the youth came to its feet, Dex snapped a kick at
its head. In the moment it took for it's head to snap and
roll back, Dex had shot in for a double-leg takedown.
Flipping the youth down and onto it's back, he started
working past its guard, ducking the jabs it fired his way.
"You are impressive, Captain. I'm sure you can't tell,
but you are at the level all my previous amusements were
beaten at. And here you are holding your own easily. Of
course, I expected no less. Let's move along, shall we?"
Just before Dex secured his mount, the thing slipped
down and tossed him over it's head before he'd taken his
base. They spun round to face each other again.
And so it went. After all his matches with Ash and the
boys, Dexter's stamina and pain threshold were about as high
as it's possible for a Human to get. But this was no
ordinary fight, for he faced a tireless opponent. Though
the simulation sweated, and panted, and it's skin grew hot
and slick, it would never exhaust itself, never tire and
make a mistake. And it kept getting better. Every time Dex
neared a submission position on it, Collins would increase
its speed or skill slightly. The margins by which Dex
countered it's moves narrowed, and a couple times he'd had
to extricate himself from its own submission holds.
After almost 20 minutes of this, Dex was feeling
heavily fatigued. He didn't have much left, and he had only
one strategy to play. Whether he hadn't or couldn't,
Collins hadn't made it any stronger. It was the only thing
he could exploit.
As the thing came at him again, Dex locked its upper
body and sprawled, bringing it down, and quickly spun around
to take rear mount. The youth, expecting him to try a
chokehold, brought its arms up, ready to bring its hands to
it's neck to defend, and surged to its feet. Dex grabbed
the thing around it's chest, trapping it's arms, and bore
down in a bearhug. If I can keep it here, maybe Collins'll
get bored, he thought. Or maybe he'll just kill me. Then
all thoughts left his head as he focused his entire being
into crushing the shit out of the monster in his arms.
The youth flexed its arms and back, trying to muscle
its way out. Dex knew that if Collins turned up its
strength, the way he had its speed and skill, the thing
would kill him. This was all he had left. It was
tremendously strong already, and it took everything Dex had
to contain it. His arms, chest and back burned from the
exertion, and he could feel his tendons straining as the
youth grunted and brought more force to bear. Dex grit his
teeth and squeezed more power from his battered muscles, as
the thick muscles of the monster in his arms flexed hugely,
trying to escape.
"Come now, Captain. I really don't have time for
delaying tactics such as this. You realize you're only
delaying the inevitable," said Collins smugly.
"Fuck... you." Dex ground out.
Collins' features darkened. "Very well. I tried being
civil." He reached over and picked up his control module.
Suddenly, Dex could feel his strength overcoming the
youth's. Why's he turning it down? Is he just gonna shoot
me? Then he realized, his arms weren't pressing in on the
thing. They were pressing into it. His arms began to sink
into the construct, and it began to dissipate as the
artificially applied forces lending it cohesion faded. Dex
realized that the whole reality graphic environment was
dissolving. He also realized that Collins wasn't
responsible for it. Partly, he could tell by the look on
Collins' face.
Cole standing behind Collins with a maser pistol was
also a big clue.
"Don't move, you fucking bastard," he growled. Collins
spun round, face locked into a mask of shock and panic. His
veneer of suavity was completely blown away.
"You!" he cried. His gaze darted for a moment between
Cole and Dex. "Shit!" he yelled, and keyed a command on his
module. Cole started to squeeze the trigger.
Before Cole got a shot off, Collins screamed in agony.
His body flared with bright blue light, seeming to be lit
from the inside out. Organs and bones were visible through
the glare. In a heartbeat, the light had moved down the
spectrum from blue-white to a golden brilliance. A wave of
heat came rushing off of Collins' form, and his outline
began to expand, his form to grow more insubstantial. In
just two seconds, the glow faded, and there was only a faint
grey cloud of dust, only slightly more dense than the air
around it. Cole and Dex started at one another in surprise.
"Guess he was the 'death before dishonor' type." said
Cole, stepping over to help Dex up. "You okay, Dex?"
"You can't dishonor a slime like that... he was just a
fucking coward." Dex took a couple deep breaths and took
stock of himself. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little bruised.
I'm pretty winded though." He stood up straight, and turned
to Cole. "What happened to you?"
"He put me in one of these, too. But, he didn't bother
to leave the mats inside a forcefield, since no one was
there but me." Cole grinned. "I guess he didn't realize you
can de-activate an RG environment from the inside. It took
me a bit to do, and to find our clothes and weapons; he had
them stashed in a different part of this complex. But he
didn't have many guards around, and none of them were very
good. What was his game, though? Why bring us all this way
to fuck with you?"
"Oh, there's way more to it than that... I'll fill you
in on the way back to the Ranger. We've gotta hustle."
*****
One light-year from Haven's star system, while Collins
was busy being entertained by Dex, a fleet of ships was
gathering, building formation, preparing themselves for the
task ahead. There were hundreds, and they looked like
drones buzzing round a huge queen, a giant starship at the
forward center of the deployment.
Any species that has mastered physics and cosmology to
the point of being able to build a working stardrive finds
as it spreads among the stars that their fears, if they have
them, of races with super advanced technology that will
crush them are unfounded. They find a fair balance of
technology with their fellow sentient species. However,
methods of problem solving vary widely sometimes, and that
variance forms the basis of commerce between many star
faring species, which trade their technologies with
neighbors seeking something new and different.
The Voracites' solution to interstellar travel
reflected their racial psychology, based on brute force.
They used a tremendous output of energy, provided by a
matter/antimatter reaction, to force quantities of exotic
matter into existence, and to provide a massive spatial
distortion force against space-time. They fed the exotic
matter into the artificially generated spatial distortion,
forcing it open and keeping it stable. The result was a
controlled wormhole with a mouth nearly ten kilometers in
diameter. To build this drive system into every starship
would be impossible, so they had constructed only a few:
gigantic, energy-hungry vessels called Space-Eaters, who's
effect on space-time was so pronounced due to the drive
system that, even in an inactive mode, they produced a
gravity field of nearly a half-G. Once the Voracites
established a world, they'd build a stationary Gateway at
the edge of the system, and these provided a network
connecting their empire. They used the Space-Eaters when
they planned to conquer a new world, bringing hundreds or
thousands of starships with them and crushing the natives
with overwhelming force. Since the time of encountering
races that they could not afford to subdue, the Space-Eaters
had been mothballed for the most part, being brought out
only when worlds not claimed or not aligned had been
discovered. Haven was neither of those, but what was at
stake for the Voracites was too great, and a small-scale
strike force was beyond them, both technologically and
psychologically. It was all or nothing.
The heavy Command Cruiser Fierce Hunter looped around
the mighty Space-Eater, heading for its position at the
vanguard of the attack force. The craft was built with an
eye towards intimidation, a hulking blood red and black
monstrosity 650 meters long, squat and angular and covered
with weapons emplacements. Her awesome firepower was under
the command of Field Commander Hurrig. Hurrig was a proud
warrior, and took pride in the prowess of himself and his
starship. None commanded his respect or fear... well,
almost none.
"The Human has been isolated, and his comrades are
being neutralized. Now is the time to strike. You must
arrive within twelve pahns." came Frax's voice, his cruel
visage on the Fierce Hunter's bridge monitor.
"Yes, Lord Frax, we are establishing final transit
positions now... we shall enter the system on schedule." he
replied, his every motion conveying his submission to his
master's greater might.
"Good. There can be no errors, no failings. This is
the beginning of our race's glory. We may never have
another chance. Hunt well." Frax's signal ended, and his
terrible countenance was replaced with a tactical display of
the squadron's formation.
"Final positions established, Commander." came the
voice of Hurrig's Tactical Officer. "We are ready."
Hurrig felt the fire of battle-madness swell in his
soul, it's heat boiling in his veins. It's been too long,
he thought. "Launch squadron! Begin establishing targets
as soon as we're through."
The great Space-Eater charged its drive, applying
monstrous forces against the fabric of the universe. A
bright point of light flared ahead of the fleet, rapidly
expanding and causing distortions in the shape of space
around it made visible by the misshapen images brought by
the light passing through them. As the wormhole mouth
reached it's full size, the center folded in like a gigantic
whirlpool, and as one, the fleet moved into it.
*****
Ash, Jack, and Danny sprinted onto the Ranger's bridge,
Ash leaping over the guardrail to take his station. Jack
took Engineering, and Danny took Ops. "Stu are you in?" Ash
shouted. The bridge's comm-panel came to life with the
engineer's voice. "Yeah, and the airlock's sealed behind
me. I'm on my way to the drive bay."
"How fast can you get us to full power?" Ash asked.
"I can get us fire control and maneuverability in about
three minutes, we can have the QTD core ready to go in a
little under fifteen." Stuart replied.
"Dammit! Alright, first priority is fire control, and
getting the valency generators in the hull charged up.
We're outta this bay yesterday." He ran his console's
startup routine, while Danny slaved the Tactical station's
functions to his board. Now, Danny could run both Ops and
Tactical from his station. Ash keyed for Dexter's net-comm.
"Captain! You there?"
"Ash! Yeah, I'm here, are you ok? Did Danny make it
back alive?"
Ash and Danny exchanged a quick look of surprise.
"Yeah, he's here. How'd you know something's up?" asked the
pilot.
"Cole and I've been a little busy too. We're on our
way back to you, and we've got some unpleasant company
behind us. Get prepped for takeoff."
"We already are, but Dex, we're under assault here too,
and we can't hang around very long. What's your ETA?"
"Maybe ten minutes."
"Shit. We don't have that long... what's plan B?" Ash
asked. He knew and trusted Dex. He'd think of a way out of
it. And if he couldn't... well, there was no way they were
leaving without him. I love you, man. if we're dying,
we're going together.
Outside the ship, the attackers drew closer. The
weapons they were carrying were very powerful, but had not
only a very defined maximum range limitation; they had a
minimum limit, too. The plasma-pulse rifle fired a slug
that was basically a complex and tightly coiled magnetic
conductor, a web of super-thin strands of material bundled
into a bullet shape, who's cumulative magnetic field formed
a very specific geometry. When fired, they'd strip
electrons from molecules in the surrounding medium, building
a static charge and thermal energy as they went, gathering
more and more particles into the matrix. If they hit their
target too soon, they'd have little more effect than a lead
slug. Too far, and the energy build-up would cause the slug
to disintegrate, and the projectile would explode and
discharge it's energy before it hit. The distance limits
could be set ahead of time, but one had to know how far
they'd be from the target.
While Ash was bust waiting for Dexter to come up with
plan B, the attackers reached their optimum range, and
opened fire.
There was no atmosphere as such in the docking bay,
crews still had to wear spacesuits to go EVA. However, with
all the starships inside discharging cryogenic gases, and
ion jets and chemical maneuvering thrusters putting out
material, the atmosphere was thick enough to make the rifles
effective.
The Ranger's hull began ringing with the impacts, the
ship vibrating violently as dozens of small impact craters
and stress fractures were blasted into her tough outer
surface by the slugs' detonations.
"Shit!" said Ash, bringing the reaction control system
thrusters online. "Stu, work faster, for fuck's sake!"
"Okay, You've got fire control in thirty seconds and
the mains are up in ninety, " came the reply. "There's
nothing I can do to speed up the QTD, it's gonna be another
twelve minutes."
"Understood", said Ash, and switched back to Dexter.
"Dex, we've gotta get outta here, man!"
"Okay, get free, but head for... ". There was a pause
at the other end. "Head for outer cargo bay GA-212. We'll
meet you there."
"Will do. Why there?"
"Because, it's the closest contact with the outside
from where we are. Our friends are gonna catch up to us any
minute. We can reach that bay in under three."
Ash consulted the flight computer's file on the star
port's layout. "You're on the other end of the station from
us now, Captain. I can be there in five. Can you handle
them for those two extra minutes?"
"Please, Ash, you're asking me? I'm insulted. Now,
there's no docking facility for a ship the size of the
Ranger at this bay, and we can't exactly fight them off in
spacesuits, you know. We'll have to use a vacuum breather
extraction."
Ash grinned in spite of their situation. "Man, have
you got balls, buddy. I'll see you there." "As soon as
you're in position, we'll come aboard. Just watch the
internal sensors for us, and get us the hell outta there as
soon as we're aboard. Out."
"Fire control's up!" crowed Danny. "Take this, you
fuckers!"
On the hull of the Ranger, 12 maser cannons rose out of
recesses on gyroscopic mounts. Guided by Danny's
enthusiastic hand, they began picking off their assailants
one after another, the attackers burning to cinders as the
beam weapons hit them. Danny watched with glee on the
targeting sensors as they died in rapid succession. Having
just come online, there wasn't much energy in the weapons
system capacitors, and they went quickly into a recharge
cycle. It'd be another 20 seconds before any of them could
fire again. As he watched the remaining attackers with the
PPA rifles running for it, Danny noticed a couple on the
inside bulkhead of the docking bay, setting up a large
device. His spine went cold as he realized what it was.
"Ash, they've got an antimatter cannon! We've gotta go
now!"
"Fuck! The moorings haven't finished their release
cycle!" said Jack.
"Go, dammit, or we're gonna die!"
"Hang on!" cried Ash.
Just as the sublight drive and the gravimetric field
generators came online, Ash brought them to life. The GM
field flared against the inner surfaces of the docking bay,
forcing the ship away from its moorings. Metal screeched
audibly even in the docking bay's tenuous atmosphere as
clamps ripped apart and metal-fiber hoses snapped, spraying
cryogenic fluids and liquid fuels into the bay. As the
Ranger vaulted away from the bay, Ash brought the sublight
drive to as much thrust as he dared near the space station,
and the starship raced across its surface, heading for the
other docking sphere and cargo bay GA-212.
*****
Dex and Cole pounded down the corridor towards the
cargo bay, hearing the sounds of pursuit close behind them.
Trying to consult his net-comm as he ran, Dex shouted over
his shoulder, "Turn here!" and dashed down a service tunnel
to the right. Cole followed him, and dropped a stun grenade
behind himself at the corner.
"Captain!" Cole shouted as they ran.
"Yeah?" came the winded reply. They were both running
flat out, and still only keeping barely ahead of their
hunters.
"I'm not too keen on this vacuum breather notion." Cole
panted.
"Me neither. Got a better idea?"
"No."
"Didn't think so." They skidded to a halt outside a
big pressure door. "Okay, this is it."
"Here we go." said Cole, and pried open the lock panel
next to the door. After about 30 seconds of reconnecting
cables and tripping circuits, the door slid open. "After
you, Captain." he grinned.
Dex and Cole ran into the bay, Cole locking the door
behind them. Cole ran to the bay's control panel and tore
it open, setting up their end of the plan, while Dex got
ready to defend them during the time they'd be stuck there.
As he cast about for cover, weapons, or anything useful, Dex
called the Freeport Ranger. "Ash, what's your status?"
"We took a bit of a pounding, but it's pretty
superficial, we're on our way to you, we'll be there in one
minute forty eight seconds. If this damn space station's
superstructure was made out of something decent, we could be
there alot faster, but as it is I can't turn the thrust up
anymore without melting the station's hull."
"Well, I don't think any of us wants to kill a few
thousand people if the hull breaches, so keep it where it
is, we'll see you in two minutes." He stashed his net-comm
back in its pocket. "Cole, how's it coming?"
"Ready here, Captain. How're we for cover?"
"Alot of nothing. Not even a dense material to use as
a cover. Unless they're unarmed, we're fucked." Personal
kinetic shields and EMP-sinks were great, and in a sudden
one-on-one confrontation made most weapons except knives
nearly obsolete. However, being caught by three or four
times their number in an open space pretty much negated the
devices' defensive effects. The attackers could simply
saturate them with maser fire until their EMP-sinks
overloaded.
"Well, then I suppose you're fucked, aren't you,
Captain?"
Dex turned around in shock, dimly aware that Cole
turned with him, jaw agape. In the observation deck
overlooking the cargo bay, staring down at them through the
composite windows, was Quentin Collins. His voice came
again, over the bay's intercom.
"I must admit, Mr. Vaughn, I was surprised by your
resourcefulness. I won't be making such a mistake again."
As he spoke, a group of four Humans and three Garumen
entered the cargo bay, all carrying maser pistols.
"What are you? We watched you die." said Dex, working
hard to master his astonishment. He had to get a grip on
things, had to make sure he bought the two minutes then
needed, and make sure they were ready when the time came.
"Die? No, my dear Captain... what you saw was merely my
escape route." said Collins archly.
"Fuck me..." breathed Cole, feeling sick. "You used a
beam teleporter."
Dex felt his stomach churn, and choked back the urge to
vomit. "You're insane... "
Along with all of the fantastic technologies that
mankind learned were possible when the space station Gaea's
microgee research lab mapped the wave function of the
universe in 2240, there were some that science fiction had
prophesized for centuries that had to be abandoned. The
structure of the universe simply didn't permit them. And
then there were some that straddled a grey area, because of
Human sensibilities. True matter teleportation isn't
possible; there's no way to "beam" something and have it
reform in empty space. However, it is possible to map a
body at the quantum level, and copy it freely in another
location. The original would then be destroyed, to maintain
continuity. Once proposed, no major corporation ever took
up production of such a system, people found the notion
revolting, to say the least. You wouldn't be you, just a
copy that thinks it is, ran the reasoning. Only a madman
would accept that kind of arrangement. If you're a madman,
though, it apparently provides a faultless escape hatch.
"Come now, gentlemen. The part of me that is 'me' is
still here, my memories and thoughts... As far as I'm
concerned, that's all that counts. Now, to the heart of the
matter... I didn't appreciate you killing my men, Mr.
Vaughn, nor do I appreciate having my entertainment
interrupted. That aside, I still require the services of
Captain Logan for the Voracties' research project. I'm
afraid you're coming with me. Guards, secure them."
Collins' cronies began to move forward, spreading out
and trying to get Dex and Cole between them. Having lost
them once, and having been led on a headlong chase through
the space station, they weren't about to underestimate their
quarry again. Dex and Cole stepped back, closer to the
cargo bay's outer doors. Dex started to seriously fear for
himself and his friend.
Then, as if by magic, the bay doors started to slide
open. Suddenly, there was nothing but the bay's forcefield
between them and the void of space.
"What the hell?" said Collins. His men paused in their
advance, suddenly uncertain. "What are you waiting for? I
said secure them!" The henchmen resumed their advance.
Then, from the net-comm in Cole's pocket, came a
rhythmic beeping, that rapidly quickened in tempo. "Sorry,
guys." said Dex, grinning evilly. "That'll be our ride."
The beeping became a constant, high-pitched tone.
And outside the cargo bay, a starship shot into view,
blasting its RCS thrusters and coming to a halt 20 meters
from the open bay doors, its ventral cargo hatch facing the
bay. The hatch doors were open.
"See you around, asshole!" cried Cole.
"SHIT!" Collins screamed, as what was about to occur
became clear to him.
Cole's handiwork kicked in then. The control panel for
the cargo bay erupted in a brilliant flare of sparks,
exploding outward, and the forcefield at the cargo bay's
open hatch vanished.
In a screaming whirlwind, the atmosphere blasted out of
the bay, suddenly exposed to naked space. Everything in the
bay that wasn't tied down shot out into the void. unsecured
cargo containers, tool kits, antigrav pallets. and bodies.
Standing nearest the bay doors, Cole and Dex were
blasted out into space first. Expecting the event, they'd
quickly exhaled all the air from their lungs, to avoid a
nasty instant death. If their lungs had been full of air,
they'd have ruptured instantly. As it was, they had about
nine seconds to live. They shot out towards the waiting
open cargo bay of the Freeport Ranger.
I love you, Ash, thought Dex, hoping he wasn't saying
goodbye. Don't let us down. He could feel his skin
freezing, the capillaries in his hands and face bursting.
Even with his eyes tightly shut, he could feel the fluid
expanding in them. Any second they'd rupture.
Dex and Cole, first out of the cargo bay of the
station, flew into the waiting bay of the Ranger. As they
entered, the bridge crew detected their life signs, and
activated the bay's hatch forcefield, and re-pressurized the
bay. They also re-activated the bay's gravity field.
As he felt the flood of air and pressure around him,
Dex slammed into the floor of the ship's cargo bay as
gravity returned, breaking some ribs. Ignoring the flare of
pain, he opened his eyes, fearing he'd be blind from the
vacuum exposure; he was overjoyed to find he could see,
though his vision was blurry. He panicked for a moment, as
he appeared to be headed back to empty space. Then his
brain caught up, and he realized he was laying against the
forcefield for the cargo bay hatch. The bay doors were even
now sliding shut beneath him. Looking outside, he saw
Collins' cronies streaking towards his ship, shot out of the
station's cargo bay after he and Cole. Being so close to
the bay doors, he and Cole made it inside the ship in time
to avoid the grisly death of explosive decompression in open
space. Collins' men, ten meters further into the bay when
they were expelled, didn't. The last thing Dex saw, before
the ship's bay doors finished sliding shut, was the sight of
seven bodies rupturing open in clouds blood, four red, three
green, which instantly froze into shards of colored ice.
Then he passed out.
*****
Danny's console flashed the alert he'd be waiting for.
"They're aboard. Re-pressurizing bay. Bringing the AG
field online." He ran a quick check on the tactical
sensors. "There's no sign of immediate pursuit."
"Understood. Stay sharp, `cause I'm sure that's gonna
change. They didn't go to all this trouble for nothing."
Ash said. He tapped his console's intercom control. "Stu,
how long before we can execute a gate maneuver?"
"Nine minutes twelve seconds. Are we gonna be doing a
rapid gate sequence?" A pursuing starship could determine
their destination during a gate maneuver by scanning the
gate itself, and analyzing its properties. To overcome
this, a ship can perform two rapid, successive maneuvers,
and have the second gate closed behind them before its
pursuers have a chance to arrive from the origin point of
the first gate. Once a gate has closed and dissipated, its
destination can no longer be read. The difficulty is that
firing the quantum translation drive in such rapid
succession generated a tremendous amount of thermal exhaust,
and was pretty tough on the drive itself. "We didn't get a
chance to finish our thermal dumps, Ash. We can manage two
gates, barely, if the first one's a short trip, say five
light-years. Over that, we'll be in trouble." There were
equal parts concern and threat in his voice, like a parent
who's kid might crash the family's flitter while he's
learning to fly it.
"Don't worry, bro. I won't hurt your baby." In spite
of the tension, Ash grinned. Stu's attitude towards the
Ranger was not unlike Dex's. In fact, Stu likely loved the
old girl more. His thoughts returned to the situation at
hand. "Jack, get down to the cargo bay and get Dex and Cole
into medical, then get back up here."
"You got it." Jack unstrapped himself from his seat
and headed for the bridge's hatch.
"Hurry Jack, they're gonna be after us any-" said
Danny. Then his instruments bleeped an alarm at him. "Any
time now. Ash, we've gotta go now. Company's coming."
"We're outta here." Ash vaulted the Ranger away from
station using the gravimetric field. Bringing the ship
around to an oblique angle to the star port using the RCS
thrusters, he brought the sublight drive up to 80% output.
The Ranger shot away from the massive space station, heading
for a high polar orbit, then out of the orbital plane of the
star system. He consulted his astrogation program. "We'll
be far enough outside Haven's gravity well to gate in. seven
minutes. Then we just have to wait for the engines." He
made a few course adjustments. "Danny, do you have an ID on
our new friends?" Ash looked over his shoulder at his
friend, and was immediately alarmed. Danny, who was one of
the coolest customers under pressure that Ash knew, had a
look of intense concentration on his face, along with
concern that bordered on panic. "What is it?" Ash asked,
not sure he wanted the answer.
Danny didn't even look up when he answered, so intent
was he on his instruments. "Good news and bad news. I've
gotten an ID on our pursuers. They're three Voracite Raptor
class starfighters. They'll be in striking range in four
minutes." He paused as he entered more commands into his
console.
Ash wasn't in the mood for suspense. "What the fuck is
the good news!"
"That was the good news. The bad news is that they've
got backup. What appears to be a small Voracite armada is
emerging from a wormhole a million kilometers sunward of
Haven's orbit, rapidly approaching. I'm getting hundreds of
overlapping readings, maybe thousands."
Ash didn't even need to look around at his crewmate.
He could tell from Danny's tone that there was more.
"And.?"
"And, the Space-Eater's altering its distortion field
profile. They're using it to generate a phased interference
field, projecting it around Haven and expanding outward, in
a cone profile, for at least twelve million kilometers."
Ash did look back at him then. Danny met his gaze.
"In other words," Ash said, "we can't gate away now."
"Nope. Their lead ships will be within range of us
before we make it to the edge of the distortion field."
Danny checked his console again. "The first three fighters
are closing."
"Charge the hull's valency generators, and bring
weapons online. When they're in range, fire at will. We'll
worry about our escape route in a minute. Right now, it's
time to dance."
*****
Jack Carrin sprinted down the corridor towards the
cargo bay. He was only 5'11", but his long, thickly muscled
legs ate up the distance as he ran, despite the 195 pounds
he carried. He'd once had to endure a partial decompression
when a shuttle pod he was in had suffered a hull breach, and
remembered the fear and pain he'd suffered before they'd
made it into the ship's cargo bay. He'd thought he was
going to die. His Captain and crewmate, his friends, had
suffered hard vacuum for almost eight seconds. Sweat beaded
on the dark brown skin of his shaved head as he ran faster.
Suddenly, he found himself standing at the hatch to the
cargo bay. He keyed it open, ran inside, and stopped in his
tracks.
There, on the cargo bay floor, were Dex and Cole, and
they didn't look good. Red blotches on their faces and
hands indicated places the capillaries had ruptured under
their skin. They were covered in a film of frost, a legacy
of their time spent in the tremendously icy embrace of
space. For a moment, Jack feared he was too late, then he
realized he could hear them breathing, their teeth
chattering. As if to prod him to action, Dex groaned and
tried to sit up. Jack hurried to his side, pressing a hand
against Dex's muscled chest, gently pushing him back to the
floor. Damn, he's freezing. Gotta get a thermal blanket
for them. "Captain, can you hear me? Stay here. I've
gotta get you two warmed up before we move you." He wasn't
sure if Dex heard him or not, but the Captain didn't try to
rise again. Jack ran to one of the supply lockers on the
aft bulkhead of the cargo bay, and pulled out a pair of
thermal blankets. Setting their temperature controls to
several degrees above room temperature, he laid one over
each man, and tucked the edges around their bodies. After
several tense moments, the two men seemed to be coming
around.
"Jack?" croaked Dex. "What's. happening? Are. are
we. away?" He tried to sit up again, this time managing to
prop himself up on his elbows. Next to him, Cole was
likewise beginning to move. Both men were breathing easier
now, and their teeth had stopped chattering.
"We're working on it, Captain. We've got company on
the way, but Ash and Danny are on the bridge, taking care of
it. As soon as I get you two into the med bay, I'm headed
back up there, too."
"Fuck." Dex paused to cough, and then continued, his
voice stronger already. "Fuck the med bay. If my ship's in
trouble, I belong on the bridge."
"Ditto," said Cole. "My Danny-boy's a good shot, but
it's not his job, it's mine, and I'm better at it."
Jack grunted as he helped Dex to his feet, "You two are
going to the med bay, if I have to knock your asses out and
carry you there. We'll keep an open comm line for you, but
you're in no condition to do your jobs, either one of you.
Now, are you two OK to move?"
Cole had managed to stand under his own power, though
he badly swayed on his feet. "Yeah, I think so. Captain?"
Dex nodded.
"OK," said Jack. "Let's go."
The three of them began making their way towards the
med bay. They weren't even out of the cargo bay when the
ship lurched from the first volley of incoming weapons fire.
*****
The Freeport Ranger shot over Haven's north pole,
describing a gentle arc through the planet's near-orbit
space. Less than ten kilometers behind her, the three
Voracite starfighters, sleek and menacing in appearance,
raced after, their weapons taking a few precious seconds to
recharge after their first successful volley. Suddenly, the
Ranger's thrusters fired, spinning the starship along its
horizontal axis, leaving it facing nearly head on to Haven,
still coasting along her original course, at a right angle
to her current orientation. The maser cannons along her
ventral side fired, having been brought into position by the
ship's rotation, all four of them striking their target.
One of the pursing starfighters blazed into a cloud of
vapor, debris, and plasma, its hull's valency generators
overcome by the multi-terawatt output of the starship's
weapons. The Ranger's main sublight drive roared to life at
almost the same instant her weapons fired, sending the ship
racing towards the boundaries of Haven's upper atmosphere.
The remaining two starfighters, completely unprepared for
the borderline insanity of this maneuver, were caught
flatfooted, and overshot the Ranger by nearly 650 kilometers
before they could slow down and begin to come about for
another pass.
On the starship's bridge, Danny Williams was also
unprepared for it.
"What the bloody fuck are you doing?" he shouted at
Ash, as he recalibrated the masers for multi-target point
defense functions. The starfighters would almost certainly
make use of their higher-yield guided combat torpedoes on
their next pass. The masers would attempt to shoot them
down. He also charged up the Ranger's own GCT launchers, as
well as the mid-range rail guns. One thing's for sure, he
thought. Dex doesn't skimp on the defensive systems.
"Saving our asses! I'll worry about flying, you worry
about shooting!" retorted Ash, his hands working rapidly and
steadily at his controls. None of his movements betrayed
the desperation he was feeling. We're in serious trouble
this time. Dex, buddy, why'd you have to go and get yourself
fucked up? You're the plan making man. we need you!
Angling the starship by thirty degrees to her previous
course, he fervently hoped that his off-the-cuff
calculations were right, or instead of giving them a chance
of escape, his maneuver would seal their doom. In point of
fact, calling his course settings calculations at all was
stretching the truth to the limit. It was almost pure
instinct. Now, though, the rational part of his mind was
catching up to his gut's decisions. "As long as we don't
get too deep into Haven's gravity well, we should be able to
skim the ionosphere, and the static buildup on the hull will
distort their GCTs' tracking sensors. And, we'll get a
velocity boost, from gravity acceleration."
"Yeah, great. Just how deep can we get at this
velocity? If we get too deep, the gravity well will
collapse our power core's vacuum energy matrix, and we'll
lose everything; weapons, life support, propulsion. We'll
drop like a stone!" said Danny, as he adjusted the Ranger's
sensor suite to track the incoming armada. The lead attack
ships were rapidly closing on Haven, and there were ships in
the vanguard much larger than starfighters. Any one of the
larger ships would be more than a match for any independent
civilian starship, even one as well decked out as the
Freeport Ranger. This doesn't make any sense at all, he
thought. Why the fuck would they invade a star system like
Haven? The reason it's still independent at all is that
everyone benefits from having it around. Governments have
all the miscreants in one place, and they can get dirty
deeds done if they need them. A move this aggressive
against an independent world by the Voracites will have
every sovereign power in the galaxy set against them. As
the ship slammed into the outer edges of Haven's atmosphere,
the roaring whine of superheated air streaming past the hull
broke Danny from his train of thought. "Well, how deep can
we go, according to your, please let it be, careful course
calculations?"
"Well, it's not really a matter of calculation,"
said Ash.
"What do you mean?"
"I picked our course more on instinct."
"Fuck!"
*****
As Jack secured Cole and the Captain into berths in the
med bay, the ship began to rumble, and a strange, whistling
sound became audible. At the same time, the lights
flickered. "What the hell is that?" Jack asked. He ran to
the med bay's computer interface and set up the AI to treat
vacuum exposure.
"How the fuck should we know? But I mean to find out."
said Dex. He reached over his head onto the bulkhead over
his berth, and tapped the comm panel control for the bridge.
"Ash, what the hell are you doing to my starship?"
"Dex! You're OK! I was worried there for a minute."
"Yeah, well, I'm worried now. What's that sound?"
Danny's voice came over the comm in answer. "That,
Captain, would be the sound of Haven's ionosphere against
the hull as we plow through it."
Dex fought back the urge to swear. He had no idea of
the situation, was in no position to make command decisions.
He had to trust his crew, and his partner. Ash was an able
commander, and a pilot of nearly supernatural skills. Could
there be something to what Collins was saying? Dex thought.
I wish we'd had more time to talk with him. I've got
nothing but questions now. "Ash. I trust you, man. Just
don't make us dead, OK?"
"I'll do my best, Captain. In the meantime, Jack, we
could use you back up here, pronto."
"On my way." Jack headed for the hatch. "You two will
be OK?"
"Oh, yeah, peachy," growled Cole. "Tell Danny the rail
guns have been .04 seconds out of sync with the targeting
computer on my last couple diagnostics, so he'll have to
track ahead of his targets a few meters."
"Will do, Cole. Gotta go." He ran through the hatch,
headed for the bridge.
"Captain?"
"Yeah, Cole?"
"What's happening? I don't mean just this attack, I
mean. well, you know? What the fuck is happening? None of
this makes any sense."
"I've no idea. but I have the feeling our lives just
got way, way more complicated."
*****
"Ash, what the hell are you doing up there? I'm
getting power drains from every combat and drive system!
The valency generators can't keep this up much longer!"
"Sorry Stu, we've only got about three minutes of this
left. She can handle that much longer, I'm sure." Ash
replied, keeping a careful eye on their course. His
instincts had been dead on; they'd clear the planet intact,
keeping just barely out of the point-of-no-return of Haven's
gravity well. The two closest starfighters had already
fired again, four times, and the electromagnetic field from
the ion cloud built up around the Ranger's hull had indeed
confounded the torpedoes' tracking sensors. Now, the only
concerns were whether or not the ship could survive its
journey through the atmosphere. That, and the incoming
horde of Voracite starships that would be very, very close
when they came away from Haven.
Jack dashed onto the bridge in time to hear Ash's last
remark, and securing himself at the Engineering station, he
punched up the ship's current status information. "Maybe
she can, Ash. Hull temperature is 2500 C and climbing.
We'll need to find more energy to divert to the valency
generators, and even then it's gonna be a close call. Stu,
what can you give me?" Jack began re-routing power from
less essential systems as he awaited Stu's reply. There
weren't any non-essential systems left online at that point.
"We can power down some of the masers, they take the
least amount of time to recharge."
"I'm on it," came Jack's reply. "By the way, Danny,
Cole says the targeting computer's out of sync with the rail
guns by .04 seconds. You'll have to track ahead." Danny
nodded.
"Great," growled Ash, "more good news. Danny, scan
that distortion field for me. how long `til we reach the
edge once we come away from Haven?" asked Ash, as he ran his
own calculations through the flight computer. Please,
please let us have enough of a head start.
"Checking," replied Danny. The Ranger's computers were
top-of-the-line, and it only took a few seconds to run the
projections. "We'll be free to gate about three and a half
minutes after we clear the atmosphere. We're already on an
optimum course for the nearest edge of the field. Plus,
with the velocity boost from Haven's gravity, we're far
enough ahead of the starfighters that they won't be able to
fire on us again before we're away. You know, Ash, even
after all this time, you still amaze me sometimes." He
grinned at the pilot.
"Yeah, well, don't celebrate yet," said Ash. The
flight computer had finished running his own calculations.
"The leading two Voracite starships will be on top of us
when we cross the planet's ecliptic, halfway to our gate
maneuver. We're not outta the woods yet," he said grimly.
As Ash had been dropping the bomb on them, Danny had
been using the tactical sensors to verify the data. Not
that he'd really expected Ash to be wrong. "Confirmed," he
said, his heart sinking. "They'll be in weapons range in
two minutes." After the pounding the hull VGs had taken
just getting them through the ionosphere, there was no way
they could take any sustained weapons fire. Then he noticed
what the bulk of the armada was up to. "Oh, no." he
breathed.
"What now?" asked Jack, as he finished equalizing the
power flows, keeping the valency generators functioning.
We're going to need a serious overhaul after this one, he
thought.
"The rest of the incoming fleet. most of them are
taking up orbital bombardment positions. And the rest are
surrounding the star port," said Danny. "They're firing!"
"On screen!" commanded Ash.
On the bridge's main viewer came the image of Haven's
gigantic orbital star port, currently under the fire of
dozens of Voracite starships. The space station wasn't
designed to withstand such an assault; such blatant and
brute force simply wasn't used against non-military
stations, since they were far more valuable when captured
intact. Brilliant beams of energy stabbed at the station in
scores of places, and within the maelstrom of light could be
seen the bright and swift moving points of CGT drive
exhausts. In mere moments, the station was hulled in dozens
of places. The rents in its outer hull going many decks
deep in some areas, huge plumes of atmosphere were vented
into space, along with debris, and hundreds and hundreds of
bodies. The force of the great jets of escaping atmosphere
wrenched the station off its rotational axis, the wobble
slight at first, but becoming more pronounced with each
passing moment. Several of the Voracite starships fired
again.
"What're they doing? This is insane!" cried Jack.
The second volley of fire blasted open the docking
sphere nearest the attacking ships, rupturing and igniting
fuel lines. The conflagration detonated the fuel cells on
several dozen starships that were in dock, along with scores
of service vehicles and smaller spacecraft. The force of
the combined blast knocked the station out of its orbital
track, and it began a graceful and deadly descent into the
planet's atmosphere. It would be only a matter of minutes,
perhaps half an hour, before gravity and atmospheric
turbulence tore the station into a million fragments, and
every living thing inside it died. There were at least
several hundred thousand sentient beings inside it, probably
over a million. The crew of the Freeport Ranger watched in
abject horror, unable to do a damn thing to stop it.
The blare of the proximity alarms tore the bridge crew
from the sight of the doomed station. Danny switched the
view over to the new inputs from the sensor suite. "They're
on us! The lead ships are breaking formation, headed right
for us." On the view, two vicious looking red and black
Voracite cruisers loomed. They were only slightly larger
than the Ranger, but designed for combat and far more
deadly. Danny's console flashed a new alert at him. "Ash,
we're being hailed."
In spite of the crisis, Ash paused, and looked up.
Voracites wanting to talk to their prey? This is different,
and anything different from normal means a possible
opportunity. This could buy us a little time. "Open the
channel."
"It's a visual transmission. I'll put it up on the
main viewer," replied Danny. There was a slight pause, and
then a quiet bleep from his controls. "Channel open."
On the main screen, the cruel visage of a hulking,
muscled Voracite male was picked out in sharp relief by the
harsh lighting preferred in their species' starship design.
"Human vessel Freeport Ranger, you are commanded to come to
a full stop and power down. You will comply immediately or
we will destroy you."
"Voracite commander, on who's authority do you issue
these commands? We are a free-trader starship, in service to
no government, but registered with the Alliance of Human
Worlds. We are based in the Alliance system of New Columbia
and are not part of the military body of Haven. We've no
part in your military action here, and expect to be treated
with diplomatic courtesy." Ash didn't expect his request to
get him squat, but it should buy a little time if the
Voracite was willing to talk, and it couldn't hurt.
"You were given your choice, Human. Make it now. In a
moment, I'm making it for you." The Voracite's transmission
ended abruptly.
"Shit!" swore Ash. "Well, that went well. Danny, how
much time did we gain? How long `til the field boundary?"
"Only one minute fifteen seconds."
"I think we're gonna make it after all," said Ash.
Suddenly, the tactical programs running on Danny's
console rang out with alarms. "They're firing!" he cried.
"Six incoming CGTs, impact in forty seconds! They're
already loading the launchers for a second wave!"
Time seemed to slow down for Ash. The seconds ticking
over took an eternity, but he knew that they'd still be dead
when the clock hit zero. The match didn't lie, and there
were no tricks left up his sleeve, nothing he could think of
to save them. He looked around the bridge, meeting the
gazes of his crewmates, and found no accusation in their
eyes. They knew he'd done his best. The loved him, and he
them. They were like a family. Family. Oh, Dex, I'm sorry
man, he thought. I'm sorry I've let you down. He knew
there was nothing more he could've done, but he felt a
tremendous wave of guilt just the same. We didn't even get
to say goodbye, man. The sound of Danny's voice floated to
him, calmly calling out their impending doom.
"Thirty-five seconds."
Ash couldn't help thinking of the "maybes" and "what-
ifs" of it all. What if he'd still been closer to our side
of the station? What if the armada had been just two
minutes later in arriving? What if we'd been carrying less
mass so our thrust would be more effective? What if. and
then it hit him. Mass! Time started to speed up again, and
he heard Danny, still counting down to their deaths.
"Thirty seconds," he said, eerily calm in the face of
certain doom.
Not so certain now! Ash thought. "Jack! Seal all the
hatches to the cargo bay, and super-pressurize it. Bring it
up to at least two atmospheres. And keep an eye on the hull
VG outputs!"
Jack didn't even bother to wonder about the why of it.
It was a plan of action, and any kind of plan is better than
doing nothing when you've only got thirty seconds to live.
"Twenty-five seconds!" called Danny, suddenly a frantic
edge to his voice. The glimmer of hope he found in Ash's
voice had kicked him back into overdrive.
"Danny! Deactivate the magnetic skids for the all
cargo containers of quartz. Open the cargo hatch and
deactivate the artificial gravity in the hold! Be ready to
kill the bay's forcefield on my mark!" ordered Ash.
"Aye," Danny called back, and only a few brief moments
passed before he called out, "Done! Impact in twenty
seconds!"
"Hang on!" cried Ash.
Ash cut the thrust from the main sublight drive, and
fired nearly all the ships RCS thrusters, his instincts
again taking over as he keyed the thrusters' firing
sequence. The Ranger spun madly about all three of its
axes, her trajectory unchanged. It was a pilot's nightmare,
getting the ship's attitude stabilized again an apparently
monumental task. But this wasn't any pilot; it was Ashley
Garret.
A ship's gravimetric field, along with the hull's
molecular valency generators, was greatly responsible for
maintaining the spacecraft's structural integrity,
particularly during high-stress maneuvers. With the AG
field in the cargo hold shut down, and the hold occupying a
large percentage of the ship's volume, situated at its
center, the stresses on the rest of the ship's structure
were enormous. The valency generators, already overtaxed,
hummed audibly with the effort of keeping the ship together,
and some of them overloaded in brilliant showers of sparks
and plasma. The gravimetric field altered its profile to
compensate, switching to maintaining the ship's integrity
rather than inertial compensation and maintaining the
remaining interior gravity fields. The crew's stomachs
lurched as they were hurled against their seat restraints
violently, the gravity in the various compartments
fluctuating wildly. Inside the cargo hold, the unsecured
cargo containers flew about the place, cracking against
bulkheads and each other. They smashed apart, spilling
their contents to careen freely about the zero gee
environment hold.
"Ten seconds to impact!" cried Danny, the muscles in
his arms and shoulders bunching as he held himself erect at
his station, fighting the brutal and dizzying g-forces.
Ash, also held at his station by force of will and
muscle, again fired the RCS thrusters in a perfectly
coordinated, and once again entirely instinctive, pattern
that halted the Ranger's mad spinning. The ship, still on
its original vector, now had her ventral surface facing the
oncoming torpedoes.
"Lower the hold forcefield!" he shouted.
As Danny executed the command, the super-pressurized
hold blasted its contents into space. Flooding out of the
cargo hatch, carried by the force of the blast, came 700,000
kilograms of quartz, the fragments of rock spreading into a
more or less spherical debris field, carried by the cloud of
dispersing atmosphere.
Ash spun the ship again, through ninety degrees of
rotation, and kicked in the sublight drive. They raced back
along their original course, accelerating hard.
Only a few hundred meters behind them, the incoming
CGTs plowed into the debris field. At the high velocities
torpedoes move, even a lump of quartz traveling at only a
few dozen meters per second produces a significant impact.
The torpedoes, every one of them, were torn open and their
warheads detonated automatically in a pre-programmed last
ditch effort to effect some damage. A blindingly bright
field of plasma expanded out from the centers of the
explosions, violently sweeping the debris field away, and
screening the Ranger from the sensors of the Voracite
starship for a few more precious seconds.
On the bridge, the crew was tossed in their seats as
the ships lurched from the leading shockwave of the
torpedoes destruction. Please, baby, we're almost home.
Ash thought. He punched the intercom. "Stu! Are we intact
for a gate maneuver?" he called down.
"Ready! The Drive's at full power, and the hull should
be able to take it; we've still got enough valency
generators online. We're already at sufficient velocity to
gate!"
"We're clear! We're outside the distortion field!"
cried Danny.
"Initiating translation gate!"
Ahead of the Ranger, the ship's Quantum Translation
Drive focused an energy field to near infinite density,
taking advantage the peculiar effects of quantum
entanglement and tunneling to create a distortion in space.
Forced into being by energies pouring out into the higher
dimensions of space-time, an area was created with quantum
field properties that were in absolute concert with an area
of space, equal in geometry and volume, that was forming
several light years away, in a direct line from the Ranger's
heading. Once the distortion was stable, any matter or
energy that passed through that area of space, on the proper
heading, would be translated immediately to the destination
gate, through the miracles of quantum physics. Anything
crossing the gate's boundaries at any kind of angle would be
lost to the unknowable reaches of higher dimensions, forever
displaced from the universe.
The Ranger passed through the gate, her gravimetric
field shutting down nanoseconds before the translation, to
avoid disruptions in the gate. The Voracite starships,
still screened from the Ranger by the expanding plasma wave
from their detonated weapons, didn't get a chance to scan
the gate before it dissipated completely.
The Freeport Ranger was lost to them.
*****
Quentin Collins walked down the corridors of the
Voracite Command Cruiser, trying to ignore the presence of
the hulking, muscle-bound guards at his side. In another
time and place, they could be. diverting, he thought.
Perhaps I should've programmed one of these magnificent
brutes to fight Logan. Collins had no preferences or
prejudices when it came to species; he just liked a good
specimen. The sleek, muscled masculinity of the Voracites
appealed to him. Stop this! Focus, or they're going to eat
you alive, literally!
It had been a near thing, his escape from Haven's
doomed star port. Luckily, he'd been near enough to his
starship to get away. Even more luckily, he'd been given
Voracite transponder codes, so they didn't blast him out of
space the moment their sensors detected him. Somewhat less
luckily, His course away from the station had intersected
Frax's ship's course, and he'd been ordered to fall into
formation and dock with the Command Cruiser. He'd briefly
toyed with the notion of trying to get away, but in the
middle of a distortion field, and surrounded by borderline
hostile vessels, there really wasn't anywhere to go. He'd
docked as ordered with the Fierce Hunter, and had been
informed by the guards that Lord Frax and Commander Hurrig
awaited him. They'd lapsed then into silence, which was
fine with Collins, and started the long hike through the
stark interior of the starship to the bridge. Which,
Collins noticed, they'd apparently arrived at. A large
hatch confronted him, and the guards took up position on
either side.
"Enter," one of them commanded.
"Thank you," replied Collins smoothly. He wasn't about
to let them see him the slightest bit ruffled. Showing
weakness or fear could be a deadly mistake when dealing with
a cultural psychology like the Voracites'. He stepped up to
the hatch, which slid aside as the sensors detected his
presence. He stepped inside.
It wasn't the bridge.
Inside the chamber was a central seat, over which hung
a boom, clearly articulated and remote controllable. The
end of the boom had what appeared to be various medical
apparatus, except to Collins eyes they looked far more
menacing, and he had no doubt as to their functions. To one
side of the device stood Frax and a Voracite that Collins
took to be Commander Hurrig.
"Human, you will be seated," said Frax without
preamble.
"If it's all the same to you," he replied dryly, "I'd
rather have the opportunity to tell you whatever it is you
want to know from here. If you dislike what I have to say,
or don't believe me, then by all means. let the games
begin." He gestured expansively to the chair. He had no
doubt at all that the hunters would much rather slice him to
pieces to wring what they wanted out of him, and might in
fact still do so whether or not he freely told them what
they wanted. However, he was hoping he still had a card
left to play.
"It is not `the same' to me. You have failed us, and I
am less interested in your explanations and excuses than in
the compensation you will provide by way of amusement and
pleasure," Frax said, the corners of his snout glistening as
he began to salivate.
"I feel no need to offer explanations, I wasn't
responsible for their escape, at least not as much as you
were." He smiled. "Additionally, I'm far more valuable to
you alive than dead."
"I must credit you Human. you are audacious. You dare
to lay the blame for your failure at our feet?" asked
Hurrig.
"Once I'd secured him, my task was done, save
delivering him to you. You, as far as I had been aware,
were taking responsibility for securing the station.
Speaking of which, by the way, I was also under the
impression that I was to be alerted before your fleet's
attack. I nearly didn't make it out of the station alive."
"Our bargain was broken when you allowed him to escape
you," replied Frax.
" I did not allow him to escape, he had assistance. He
had assistance that came from inside the station, presumably
from someone with access to the station's computer command
network, which means a station crewmember. My area was as
secure as I could make it." Collins didn't betray the
slightest hint of the lie. He even controlled his pheromone
levels, because a change in his scent would give him away to
the sharp senses of the hunters.
"And do you have any indication of whom this help was?"
asked Frax.
"No, I didn't have time to find out, I was busy fleeing
for my life. And as you obliterated the station, we'll
never know, will we?" he asked sharply. He quickly diverted
the conversation. "In any event, you had a number of
starfighters at the station, and enough starships and
firepower to sterilize a world. Why didn't you recapture
him? You most certainly caught up to him before he escaped
your translation gate suppression field, didn't you?"
"The Human in command proved unusually resourceful. As
this seems to support your selection of them as a high
potential candidate for our research, we are somewhat less
inclined to eviscerate you at present." Frax grinned
evilly. "But, do not fail me in this next endeavor, or no
amount of logic and usefulness will keep your skin on your
bones."
Collins had no doubt at all the Frax spoke literal
truth. "As you say. What is it you want of me?"
Frax told him.
*****
In the cold depths of interstellar space, a two-
dimensional continuum distortion appeared. In the a few
nanoseconds, its phase stabilized, and from the boiling
energies of its surface emerged a starship. Quickly
decelerating, it allowed the gate behind it to close and
dissipate. Extending thermal exhaust radiators, which
glowed bright red from the built up heat, and activating the
ship's external sensors, the crew of the Freeport Ranger
took stock of their surroundings.
"Ash, we've got to completely radiate this thermal
buildup, or the system's gonna fail during our next gate
maneuver. It'll be about fifty minutes," came Stu's voice
over the intercom.
"Don't worry, we've got the time to spare now. There's
no way they could follow us through that gate sequence,"
said Ash with confidence. Now, he thought, all I have to
face is Dex, explaining the damage I did to his ship. Ash
grinned. "Secure your stations, guys, and engage the AI
monitoring programs. We've gotta get going on what repairs
we can make without needing to dock."
Jack and Danny set about securing their stations, and
in a moment the trio were headed away from the bridge,
towards the aft sections of the starship.
"Jack, you head back and coordinate with Stu, get the
repairs under way. We'll join you in a moment, first we've
gotta get Cole and the Captain out of the med bay. The AI
should've finished treating the worst of their injuries by
now, assuming it wasn't knocked offline during our escape.
They should be able to move to their cabins now."
"Sure thing, Ash," said Jack with a grin. "I'll look
for you two in half an hour or so." He strode off, headed
for the drive bay.
"I'll have to speak with the Captain about crew
discipline," said Ash. "That implication was most
unprofessional."
"Well," laughed Danny as they reached the med bay,
"it's not as if they couldn't make their own way, if they
have treated." He keyed open the hatch.
"Mr. Williams, our crewmates could be lying in there,
near to death. It's our duty to check on them." Ash
managed to keep the grin off his face, but he couldn't keep
it out of his voice or his eyes.
"Aye, sir," Danny deadpanned.
"It's about fucking time you got your sorry asses down
here!"
"Hi, Cole. Glad you're OK," said Danny, smiling. He
moved over to his friend, who was disengaging himself from
the med bay berth, and engulfed him in a fierce hug. "Damn,
bro, it's glad to see you." He let his friend go, and
turned to his Captain. "Are you OK, Captain?"
Dex, who'd also come to his feet, was standing with an
arm around Ash. "Yeah, thanks, Danny. Why don't you help
Cole to his quarters? Then give the others a hand with
repairs. I think Cole could use some downtime. After
you're finished join us in the drive bay."
"Cole's not the only one who needs some downtime, Dex.
You're gonna rest up a few hours in your quarters. That's
an order. sir," Ash said with a grin.
"He's right, Captain," said Cole. "Come on Danny, you
can fill me in on all the ways you fucked up my tactical
systems on the way," he said, punching Danny in the
shoulder. They walked out together, arms around each
other's shoulders.
"You know, I don't think I've ever seen two men who're
closer friends," observed Dex. They left the med bay,
headed for Dex's quarters. "It's good to see such devotion
in my crew. You know we can count on each other in the
thick of it."
"True," said Ash, "except for the part about not
knowing two men who're closer."
"I meant other than us."
Ash laughed. "Damn, stud. I thought our goose was
finally cooked there. Next time, don't get yourself laid up
during a battle. I almost didn't get us out of it." He
stopped, and threw his arms around the muscled torso of his
friend, his partner, his Captain. He hugged him tightly.
"I love you, Dex."
"I didn't doubt for a moment that you'd save us, Ash.
I have faith in you." He paused a moment, thinking of what
Quentin Collins had said. Do I tell him? Do I even believe
there's anything to tell?
"What is it?" asked Ash, sensing a change come over
Dex. He pulled away a bit.
"Nothing, Ash. And I love you, too," said Dex. He
pulled Ash close to him, and engulfed him in his own
embrace, reveling in the feel of Ash's hard muscles against
his own. He tilted Ash back slightly, brought his mouth up,
and kissed him deeply. Ash answered without words. After a
moment, they resumed their walk to the Captain's cabin.
Neither of them spoke, simply reveling in each other's
presence, and in the fact they were alive and well. In a
couple minutes they stood outside the hatch to Dex's
quarters.
"You really should just get some rest, Dex. I can
catch you up on things later. We'll be fine handling the
repairs."
"I'm sure you will be, but I need some more help
first," said Dex with a mischievous grin.
"You're supposed to be getting rest, Captain Sir, "
replied Ash, his own grin rising.
"Well, I think after all the excitement, I'll be
needing some kind of sleep aid. A release of tension, if
you will. And I think it's your duty to provide it, crewman
Garret." Dex opened his hatch, pulling Ash in after him.
He slowly peeled his shirt off over his head, revealing the
powerful, chiseled muscles of his upper body. He started to
undo the catch on his pants.
"Aye aye, sir!" said Ash with a salute, and then peeled
off his own shirt. He was built as powerfully as his mate,
his skin a few shades lighter. He stepped forward, taking
Dex's hand away from his pants and placing it on his thick
chest. He flexed a bit, and pulled Dex to him, enjoying the
heat of their hard bodies together. "Slowly, Dex. this is
supposed to be relaxing, remember?" His grin widened. "Let
me do the work."
"No argument there, stud," replied Dex, his voice a
throaty growl.
In moments, they were lost in the bliss of each other.
If only it could last forever.
Of course, nothing is forever.
*****
END PART ONE
Copyright 2003 Frank Dennis
If you've enjoyed this tale, let me know! Send feedback to
FrankDennis@indy.rr.com . Any suggestions or criticisms
are welcomed! Part two is on its way within a few weeks!!
Now, for acknowledgements and thank-yous:
To Peter F. Hamilton, who's writings showed me that
spaceship dogfights can be realistic AND exciting, and who
gave me the idea for valency generators instead of the tired
old cliche of "shields". (For you boys who don't know, a co-
valent bond is a very strong type of bond between atoms,
hence, "valency generators" make the material they're
affecting much stronger than nature ever could).
To my close friends who read this as I wrote it, giving me
ideas and suggestions.
And finally, a thank you to all the writers who've never had
a heroic central character who was gay. All the ones I've
encountered so far in literature have been either tragic or
comic. I got tired of waiting for an ass-kicking gay action
hero, so I decided to write some myself. <grin>