The Dark Defiance Read online

  “But the mosquitoes…”

  “Against six corvettes, our bugs might knock out a few enemy but they can still swat down most of them. We’d need a whole fleet of allied ships to distract them.” Harry cut off his interpreter as Ray stepped onto the bridge. “Ray, strap in, we might have to do some shooting. Six imperial corvettes with pirate crews.”

  He turned back to Tommy. “We can’t outrun them on pitch drive and we’re too close to that singularity to jump out of here. With six ‘vettes, they outclass us by at least twenty percent. They’d pound us to shit if we try to fight.”

  “So we just surrender?” Tommy stared at Harry in shock.

  “No.” Harry’s face broke into an evil grin. “We’ll try an idea that your old man planted in my head when we were talking about training the crew.” He indicated Tommy’s seat. “Sit down and get ready to translate.”

  He turned to face his bridge crew. “We’re going to pull an Indiaman. Walt, turn us towards the corvettes and bring the pitch drive to full bias. Ray, pick a target and get the guns aimed; I want them to see the turrets moving.”

  “Will do but, Captain, we can’t beat six corvettes.” Ray turned to look back at Harry. “We just don’t have the firepower.”

  “We know that,” Carol responded, “but they don’t. They’ve probably been scratching their heads since we dropped out. Don’t forget that the Völund was originally supposed to be a heavy cruiser. They’re over there right now trying to figure out if we’re a warship or a trading vessel.”

  “And our actions will help them make up their minds,” Harry cut in. “If we run, they’ll realize what we really are and chase us down. If we turn towards them and act aggressively, they might just decide to pull up stakes and scamper off.”

  “Hell of a bluff,” Wally muttered as he brought the pitch drive to life.

  “It’s the only card we have left to play right now,” Harry growled. “It worked for the East India trading ships against the French, and it might just save our asses now.” He turned his chair. “Tommy, send a message in Dheema: ‘Have encountered small pirate force. Will destroy before resuming course. Request support task-force for civilian vessel found at site.’”

  “I send that Omnidirectional – no real recipient?”

  “That will do nicely.”

  Tommy nodded his understanding before turning to his terminal.

  “You’re thinking of Prof. Cornwell?” Carol raised an eyebrow.

  “I am,” Harry replied, feeling surprisingly calm. Out of my hands now, he thought. Either this works or we have to surrender but, damn, it’s good to be back in action, for a change. “What did he say that Indiaman was called? The Gilded Jetti?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Carol half laughed. “I don’t remember, I was copying your notes that week because I had the flu. Frankly, I think he cobbled that story together from several real incidents.”

  “Well anyway, they managed to convince a small French frigate force that they were facing a British fourth-rate. The East India ship ran up a signal that read ‘Enemy to windward’, making the French think they were just over the horizon from a whole English squadron. They knew they couldn’t afford to get tangled up with a fourth-rate if there were more enemy on the way, so they broke off and ran.”

  “I still say Doc Cornwell made the whole thing up.”

  “Real or not,” Wally cut in, “it’s working. Corvettes are showing their backsides, which they’d need to do if they don’t want to drop out next to the singularity. They’re going to jump. Looks like heavy shuttle activity between the civvy and the ‘vettes too.”

  “Recalling their prize crew.” Harry sat back in his chair. “They must not have been ready to jump yet.” We actually managed to do some good out here… if anyone was left alive on that ship, that is.

  Through the windows, Harry could see one of the pirate vessels becoming indistinct. He activated a magnified view on one of his screens. The small, heavily-armed ship looked as though it was being viewed from under water as waves of distortion washed over it.

  Then it was just gone.

  “There goes another one,” Wally announced excitedly. “They’ve left a shuttle stranded; it’s turning back for the civvy.”

  “Should we engage the shuttle?” Ray was already setting up the targeting.

  “Hold fire, Ray,” Harry answered quickly. “They might have hostages on board. Let’s get in close. We’ll take stock once the last ‘vette jumps.”

  “What’s going on?” Bernie wandered past Tommy, stopping to lean against the back of Harry’s chair.

  “Pirates knocked us out of distortion,” Harry grunted. “We’re running them off now.”

  “Then shouldn’t we be leaving?” Bernie demanded. “If they’re no threat, we should be on our way. We have deals to fulfill.”

  “Last corvette has jumped,” Wally announced in a tone of mild surprise.

  “There might be civilians on that ship in need of our assistance,” Harry replied calmly.

  “They can look after themselves.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but I’m not going to just sail off and leave them until I know they’re OK.” Harry rotated his chair to face Bernie, forcing him to take his hand off the headrest. “I don’t intend to ignore a ship in distress simply because it isn’t sitting on water. Write it off as an exercise in burnishing our company’s reputation, if you want, but we are stopping to render assistance.”

  “But our deal…”

  “Will still be in effect when we get there.” He turned back to his screens. “This is a combat scenario. Non-essential personnel are not permitted on the bridge until it’s resolved.” He pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. “Go wait in the lounge.”

  Bernie bristled. He opened his mouth to say something but Wally cut him off. “Looks like the shields are up on the civilian ship; the shuttle can’t get in. I’ll bet the crew has seized partial control.”

  Bernie stalked off the bridge.

  “Hail from the large vessel,” Tommy announced. “I offered assistance but they insist they have everything under control. Captain, I’m fairly certain I heard weapons fire in the background.”

  “So we’re talking to pirates,” Harry mused. “They must hold the bridge but not engineering. The original crew probably managed to secure control over the shields and engine. The prize crew probably withdrew forward to wait for the last shuttle run that never came.”

  “Thermal shows twenty-three passengers on the shuttle.” Ray turned to look at Harry. “Every one of them is armed.”

  I’m not sending a boarding party against unknown odds. “Tommy, tell them we’re on to them. If they don’t drop shields and surrender the vessel to its original crew, we’ll start shooting. Tell them we have standing orders to kill any pirates we come across, regardless of who gets in our way.”

  As Tommy began to translate the ultimatum, Harry turned back to Ray. “Mr. Roosa, on my mark, I want a three-second burst from every Vulcan we have. Target is the shuttle.”

  “Captain,” Tommy called from the back. “They still insist that they are the original crew, and they’re claiming now that they have ‘Flinter’s Syndrome’ aboard. Evidently, it’s highly communicable.” He added drily.

  “Bullshit,” Harry declared calmly. “Ray, mark!”

  A deep buzz rumbled through the bridge. Close to five-thousand rounds of 20mm ammunition slammed into the small shuttle, churning through airframe and flesh. At the end of three seconds, the tumbling mass of wreckage was no longer recognizable as a vehicle. It drifted past the bow of the occupied ship.

  “I truly do hate pirates,” Harry said quietly.

  “I believe they’re willing to comply now,” Tommy announced. “They want to surrender to us rather than the crew.”

  Screw that, Harry thought in mild alarm. I don’t want them aboard my ship. “Tell them they have to take their chances surrendering to their own victims, but I want proof in the next five minutes or we
destroy that ship.”

  Two minutes later, Harry was being thanked by the original captain, a tattoo on his forehead matching the markings on the ship’s bow. The man was so grateful, he insisted on hosting Harry and his crew if they ever found their way to his planet, a world whose name Harry couldn’t twist his tongue around.

  Three minutes later, the first pirate was expelled from the vessel’s forward airlock. The bridge crew watched in grim silence as the suitless man died.

  “Get us back on course for Cera,” Harry ordered as the next pirate appeared. “We’re finished here.”

  The Ormen

  Three hours travel from Cera

  “Dactarii ships?” Caul interrupted the scout’s report. “A scouting force?” He felt a tingling. A chance to fight the old enemy!

  “No, my Hauld,” the scout replied in disgust, his image grew fuzzy as the processors dealt with the sudden motion, transmitted over extreme distances. “Six small attack ships but they were manned by Caradii. They were nothing more than pirates who had been scared off their prize by a heavy cruiser.” He turned his head to spit on the deck. “We were excited to think we had found part of a Dactarii force. You can imagine our disgust at meeting the crew of those antiques.”

  “And what of the cruiser?” Caul’s interest was piqued. A sizeable military force might be worth seeking out.

  “Before the pirates died, they did mention that they had been chased off by a large cruiser and that she had summoned help from a nearby fleet.”

  This war band needs a good fight. My own crew are whispering about ghosts, Caul thought. With any luck, Liev will get himself killed. “Search for this cruiser.”

  Rumblings

  The Völund

  In orbit around Cera

  “I don’t like this, Harry.” Carol kept her attention divided equally between her console screens and the bridge windows that surrounded them. “There’s nothing but debris up here and it looks new. Something nasty pasted the hell out of this place.”

  “Tommy, anything at all?” Harry didn’t even glance over his shoulder as he asked. His eyes constantly ran from left to right, then looked out the windows above before starting again. He seemed as though he expected a hostile fleet to appear from nowhere.

  Tommy couldn’t say it was out of the realm of possibility. Something had happened here and it had been recent. Kobrak had just struck a deal with the power utility on the planet’s capital. Whatever had taken place, the Völund had only missed it by a matter of days.

  “Nothing yet.” He switched back to Dheema and continued his search of the standard frequencies but he knew he was looking for a needle in a haystack. Finally, he stopped and pushed away from the console for a moment, trying to think the problem through. Harry heard the worn bearings on the swivel and turned a questioning look his way.

  Tommy held up a finger, asking Harry’s indulgence as he frowned down at the floor. Suddenly, he pounded his hand against his knee and pulled back into his station. “Everybody zip it for a minute; I’m recording a message.” He reached out to the screen and set up the system to record an outgoing message.

  “Anybody on the planet Cera or in orbit, this is the Earth ship ‘Völund’ carrying helium isotope gas for the Polumet Power Corporation. We have been unable to contact Orbital Control. Is your planet in distress? Do you require assistance?” He provided Harry with a quick translation before setting the message to go out on all frequencies.

  “If there’s no response from Orbital Control, chances are, the planet’s in a mess,” Tommy explained. “There might be some independent transmitters still operating, like ham radios back home. If they’re able to transmit, they would be trying to help with the recovery effort. We just have to wait until we hit the right frequency.”

  Harry nodded. “Well, it looks like you found evidence of your rampaging Kholarii gods after all.”

  The tension on the bridge slowly eased as the minutes ticked by. Tommy kept up his search for orbital beacons but they all seemed to be destroyed. He looked up from his terminal as Elise walked in.

  “I realize you guys can’t take time out to leave the bridge for dinner, but you still have to eat.” She was carrying an armload of meal packets from the warmer. She went up to the front and handed one to Jim Anders at the nav station and to Ray Roosa, who was manning the weapons array. “You can’t afford to ignore your intake requirements at a moment like this. Lack of energy on top of fatigue makes for bad decisions.”

  Harry and Carol both nodded their thanks as they took their packs and pulled the tabs off. Elise came last to Tommy. “And for you,” she announced with a flourish, “chicken!” She leaned in. “I’ve noticed you eat it all the time.”

  “Er… thanks.” Tommy tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. It’s the only thing that shite machine ever gives me.

  “So no contact from the surface?” she asked.

  “Not a peep yet, but we’ve only covered half the available frequencies.” Tommy took a bite of his chicken and forced a smile for her.

  “So, we get a free cargo?” She raised an eyebrow. “If nobody here wants it, and it’s already in our hold…”

  Tommy looked back at her in stunned amazement. “Are you off your bleedin’ nut?” he hissed. “If we can’t deliver, it’s probably because there’s millions of dead people down there and more dying every second.”

  Elise looked stunned. The look quickly grew angry. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call them people,” she whispered angrily. “Just because…”

  “Earth ship ‘Völund’, this is game preserve twenty-three, tower fifty-two. Are you alone up there?” The voice sounded exhausted.

  “Tower fifty-two, we don’t see a single living thing up here. What happened? Were you attacked?”

  “Nothing at all?” the voice was incredulous. “There had to have been over a million people working up there on stations and ships. Are they all gone?”

  Tommy paused. He probably had friends up here.

  “Tommy.” Harry’s inflection carried a warning about translated conversations. “Who is that?”

  I’m really starting to dislike this cattling job. “Tower warden at some kind of game preserve. He doesn’t know yet that all his mates up here are gone. You want to give him the news?”

  “Tell him, but find out whether he can help us get in touch with the power company or the local authorities.” Harry turned back to scan the blackness around them.

  Sod you too. “We don’t see anything up here but debris.” He tried to sound sympathetic but his anger made it nearly impossible. If anything, his words were brutally curt. “You’re the only contact we’ve made since arriving in orbit. Do you know what happened?”

  “Gods,” the warden blurted. “I could hear the desperate calls from the surface stations but then everything went quiet. I don’t even know what might be left down here. We were attacked two days ago. They came out of nowhere.”

  “How badly were you hit on the surface? Is your power still working?”

  “Well, mine is, but it’s solar. Our towers are self-contained. Only the cities use fusion generators.”

  “If we come down there, would you be able to guide us to the Polumet plant? We’re loaded with helium-3 isotope for their reactors.”

  “I would be very grateful for the chance to guide you there. I have family in Polumet and the plant is close to the outskirts of the city. This preserve can go to the demons, for all I care. Most of the animals will end up as food before the winter now that all of our hydroponics have been destroyed.”

  Harry nodded as Tommy translated. “Tell him we’re launching in fifteen minutes. Carol, you were at Seattle after the ‘big shake’?”

  She finally took her eyes off the windows. “I brought the Hancock into Puget Sound and slaved her generators to run a hospital until the grid came back up.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Harry smiled. “At our age, it gets hard to remember whose stories are whose anymore.”
>
  “Watch the age talk, buster.”

  “Yeah, fine. Look, I want you to take a team down there, meet this park ranger and go find the power company that we brought this gas for. You have more experience at dealing with disaster assistance than I do and, anyway, it’s your turn for a shore visit!”

  “Great,” Carol rolled her eyes. “You get a nice quiet little world where gunfights are only moderately common – I get a post-apocalyptic disaster world.” She paged crewmembers for the shore party before she got up from her seat. She headed for the door, tapping Tommy’s shoulder on the way. “You’re with me.”

  The Ormen

  Three hours travel from Cera

  Caul stepped off the elevator platform onto the deck of an empty cargo hold. A leader was expected to give lavishly to his followers. He was a good leader, but not a fool. His remaining holds were filled to capacity; this empty compartment was a message to the attendees of the Althing. It reminded them that their leader followed the old ways.

  He looked around him at the assembled captains. Most showed curiosity. The meeting signaled a potential departure from the agreed plan and they were itching to learn what that change might be. Liev stood near the front with a knowing smirk.

  “Two and half thousand years ago,” he began, “my father disappeared, tunneling space to Khola.” He paused to let his words register before continuing. He could see the looks of discomfort among the captains. None relished talk of failure and yet, here Caul was, bringing up his connection to one of their people’s most spectacular failures. Liev looked smugly pleased.

  Sigrunn looked as though she was thinking of killing Caul there and then. The fortunes of her house were tied to that of Caul’s by their bargain. He realized, looking at her angry face, that it might not be wise to fall asleep in her presence. Once their combined houses had its heir, he would be well-advised to sleep in a private chamber. That would doubtless suit the ‘Night Wolf’ very well, he thought. Her appetites are said to exceed even those of Eirar Bruthmathr.

  “I wish to add Khola to the list,” he said. “We must learn what became of the lost raid.”