Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1) (16 page)

Slowly the odds and advantage shifted toward Hammond, but to
him, ever mindful that he himself had lost little in the way of man or boat,
victory seemed to come at too high a price.

Dissimilarly, the Confederate leaders cared little for human
life. In his war-room, the Supreme Prias and his cronies shoved playing pieces
across a large tactical map. It was of no concern to them that the chits
actually represented people. A lost piece meant lost lives, but that connection
never entered their thoughts. Talbot was of like mind. Losing a ship meant
soldiers died, but he didn’t see it that way. To him, they were playing pieces,
nothing more. In light of this attitude, Confederate soldiers had to consider
well the cost of signing on to engage Providence ships. To Hammond, it was both
funny and sad that neither Talbot nor the Prias understood how destructive they
were being to their own rule.

But Hammond knew. One day the Confederate kingdom would fall
because of their leader’s disregard for human life. For the sake of the
Confederate soldiers, Hammond felt it was his duty to hurry along the opposition
government’s fall. His letting Confederate ships through his lines to rescue
their crews soon made him the hero among his enemy combatants. Talbot was blind
to that fact. Now, to the Confed soldiers, being shoved to the front of this
battle meant a possible escape from the fight instead of certain death because
of it.
That
fact undermined Talbot’s command, but with his focus
elsewhere, he missed what was truly taking place under his nose.

To Hammond, Admiral Talbot strategy seemed quite in keeping
with that mindset even in his use of the Talon fighters. The Talons, though
released late in the game, and in spite of his misuse of their services,
managed to skirt the parameter guns to swarm the
Noble Sun
in an attempt
to pound it.

But Hammond had a contingency plan even for this onslaught.
He fell behind the fleet so the ships ahead could surround his with cover fire.
This was Hammond’s defense posture Omicron Beta.

Had he stayed inside the fleet, none of his companion ships
could have fired at the Talons without hitting him. In this way they could lay
heavy fire around his ship and kill any attack craft with relative ease, or so
it seemed. The Talons, those that had been hit anyway, had run headlong into
the cover fire, more or less on their own volition and to their own
destruction.

After finding it impossible to get through the thick
firewall, over time the Talons turned back toward their carrier to refuel.

Unbeknownst to them,
Tolamain
, their carrier, was
already in trouble. Standing alone against
Long Bow
, her every cannon
opened up to give good on the fast approaching cruiser. An exchange of serious
cannon fire left both its launch bays in flames, launch bays the Talons
desperately needed but could no longer use.

With the carrier
Tolamain
badly crippled, the Talons
in retreat would have nothing but the carrier,
Prometheus
on which to
land. But even in that, they found only reason to curse.

Young captain Torrington’s
Long Bow
continued to fire
on
Tolamain
until he was certain nothing could launch from or land on it
anytime soon.

Then Torrington came around his first target only to find
the other carrier,
Prometheus
, heading away at full speed.

The
Prometheus
’ Captain had seen what befell
Tolamain
.
Rather than face
Long Bow
with no aid of escort, he chose to abandon the
struggle. This action left the Talons with no carrier at all on which to land.

If Torrington chased after
Prometheus
, he could find
himself cut off from the Providence fleet altogether. This would put his crew
in grave danger. There is strength in numbers, and Hammond wouldn’t tolerate
any of his ships going it singlehandedly, nor would he allow them to run from a
fight, as did the
Prometheus
carrier.

The
Long Bow’s
skipper, Captain Jonathon Torrington,
although a young man of twenty-four, had distinguished himself under fire
several times over. He was able and disciplined, and his crew counted on him to
be a team player.

In times past, as had every seasoned ship’s captain, he had
found himself cutoff from his fleet and had to fight his way back to the safety
of numbers.

This day, as he brought his ship around the smoldering
carrier, the returning Talons had indeed done just that—cut him off from his
fleet to block the way home, and to safety. Despite this, Torrington remained
calm. “Shields to full, Mr. Childers. Bring us to heading 354-16-12. Full
speed, please.”

“Aye, Captain,” Childers responded. “Shields to full. Course
heading toward our fleet. Anything to the guns?”

Keeping his tone self-assured, Torrington studied the main
view screen. “Negative. Gunnery can’t lock onto those Talons. And to try for a
lucky shot is just a waste of time and energy. We’ll survive this if we move.”
Just then something fast shot over the
Long Bow’s
right shoulder and
headed toward the Talons.

“Who fired that?” He studied the bridge’s huge view screen.
It looked as if someone launched a rocket toward the Talons. There would be the
devil to pay if any of his men had acted on his own.

“Negative, sir” said Childers. “It’s not ours.”

Torrington took his chair and focused on the screen. One
Talon after the next exploded in a brilliant flash. Something small moved
incredibly fast in and between the Talons, hitting each one hard. The formation
broke up and began to move away. “What’s going on, Commander? Give me as much
intel as you can.”

Childers glanced back and shook his head. “All I can tell
you, Captain, is it’s a manned ship far more maneuverable than a Talon. It’s
fast all right, but only about a third the size of the ships it’s killing. I’ve
seen nothing like it.”

“What’s the sitch, Archer?” Ericca considered his
expression.

It wouldn’t pay to start the game by shooting the good guys.
She watched Archer’s eyes drop to study his scanner. “Nearest us is a
medium-heavy cruiser—
a Providence ship
—but it’s cut off from the rest of
the fleet by a wall of Talons. I say that should be our first rescue.”

“Roger, Archer. Let’s keep it tight and right.” Ericca
teased the controls and
Viper
shifted almost imperceptibly to skirt Coredei’s
atmosphere and head in to the raging battle.

Archer swung his guns right, then left to test them. “You going
to join the conversation, sis, or will I be the only one speaking for us?”

She hit a switch. Bow covers slid back into the ship. Her
nose guns extended. “No, no. I’m more than happy to say my piece.”

“You going to punctuate your every sentence with a period?”

“Several actually, Phiton charged periods, to be exact.”

Archer chuckled. “I’m sure they’ll get your meaning, sis.”

Before the big ship detected it,
Viper
shot full
speed past the
Long Bow
.

The Talons formed up to strike the
Long Bow
in force.
Ericca reduced speed suddenly and entered the mix. Riley picked off one Talon
after the next before Ericca was able to join him in his efforts.

She glanced at her monitor. Archer shook his head as he
chuckled to himself.

“So, Archer. What’s got you so amused?”

“Oh, I was just thinking that this is a common Talon tactic.
I wonder how the Talon pilots like their own medicine. We’re taking the role
they play as the smaller, more nimble vessel.”

But unlike the Confederation fighters, the little ship that
attacked them carried one-shot wonders. One hit from its guns tore through each
Talon unhindered to rip away wing, gun rack, engine, or canopy. The pilots of
the hurt ships began to either launch an escape pod, or limp away. Those killed
began to drift. The rest turned their attention from
Long Bow
to
Viper
.

A hail of charged bullets slammed
Viper’s
bow. The
small ship pitched wildly.

“Blast! Lost a gun, Archer.”

Archer returned fire for fire and two more Talons burst into
flame.

Ericca worked to regain control of her spinning craft, when
another volley clipped
Viper’s
rear. Engine two died. She gritted her
teeth and watched as
Viper’s
bow gun lined up on other Talons. She
pulled the trigger. The remaining gun spit death and two more Talons exploded.

Even with
Viper
spinning out of control, Archer’s
guns were fierce as he continued to take out Talon after Talon.

A string of fire ran the length of
Viper
, and her
right winglet fell away, taking that cannon with it. One fixed-in-place bow
gun. One cannon on a turret. And more Talons had turned toward them.

“This is it, little brother,” Ericca said. “Shields are
down. If the next volley doesn’t rip us to shreds, the canopy will vanish in
another moment. Power is nearly gone.”

Archer reached forward and squeezed her shoulder
reassuringly.

Abruptly, every Talon coming at them suddenly veered away.
Something blotted out the Coredei sun, and the stars vanished.

Amazed by the enemy’s chatter, Hammond’s cryptographers
listened intently. They had broken the Confederation’s communication codes some
time back and now heard fear sweep through the Confederation fleet.

Apparently, a stunned Admiral Talbot was receiving calls
from every sector. He had lost one Talon after the next and couldn’t understand
why. Something about a secret weapon launched from
Long Bow
that, with
little effort, was tearing apart the little ships.
Long Bow
had
destroyed the
Tolamain
(or so they thought,) most of the Talons, and now
was working over the big ships without mercy.

When Hammond’s cryptographers pieced together the true sense
of the communiqués, they sent Hammond the information. What they had
intercepted were calls for help from the Confederation ships, and, because of
these reports, Hammond soon realized the newcomer had hastened victory’s
approach.

This was a chance to end the clash so much sooner than he
had anticipated. If Hammond acted quickly even more lives could be saved. “Hail
the
Prince Michele
,” he ordered.

In moments Admiral Talbot was on Admiral Hammond’s view screen.
Talbot stood near his helmsman and looked seriously worried that his ship might
be next on
Long Bow’s
hit-list. And though he couldn’t hide his concern,
he spoke with all the pomposity he could muster. “Have you decided to
surrender, Admiral?”

Hammond spoke as though Talbot’s opinion mattered to him.
“Actually, I was about to have
Long Bow
launch another ship-killer, just
for good measure. You understand. After all, you haven’t seen what one can do
to a large ship. It really is quite an impressive little device. I was thinking
for this demonstration I’d use your flagship as its target. An up close
demonstration of its destructive power might impress you. Shall I target your
ship and order the launch? You really must see this.”

Talbot turned and took a few steps casually back to his
command chair, then seated himself as if he was indifferent to his dire
situation. In the time it took him to put on such airs, another twenty of his
men had died—but what were their lives to him? His own life, though . . .

“What are your terms for my surrender?” Talbot asked
gruffly.

When the lights came on, Ericca and Archer found themselves
in a huge cargo hold. Several men were dousing
Viper
in a cloud of
fire-suppressant. As
Viper’s
last bit of energy drained away to
flat-line, the canopy faded with it until it disappeared completely.

Ericca ran a hand down her face then pushed to her feet. As
she stepped out of the small craft a curious soldier lent her a helping hand.

“Miss,” he said, “there’s an escort coming down from the
bridge to fetch you.”

Ericca dipped her head in acknowledgement. “Thank you,” she
said, turning to her spacecraft to assess the damage. “Oh, my poor baby,” she
said, patting its side panel. “Don’t you worry. I’ll get you back on your feet
in no time.”

Archer stepped from the ship and looked at
Viper
.
“Oh, man. Those idiots scratched the paint.” No one laughed. He sighed. “Tough
audience,” he muttered.

“So where are we?” Ericca asked, as she poked and prodded at
the damage.

“You’re aboard the Providence Assault cruiser,
Long Bow
,
Miss,” answered the young officer who had helped her from the ship, “Captain
Torrington, commanding.” He nodded toward the door. “Your escort, Miss. They’ll
take you to him.”

Disheartened by the amount of damage
Viper
had taken
she sighed. When she looked up she saw one young ensign lead four armed
soldiers into the bay. While two took positions to guard
Viper
, the
other two stayed by the ensign’s side. “I’m Ensign Dooley, Ma’am. I’m to escort
you and your . . .”

“Flight partner,” Ericca answered. “I’m Ericca Archer and
this is my brother, Riley.”

“Yes, ah hmm. Miss Archer, please follow me to the bridge.
Our captain awaits. Mr. Archer, would you care to join us?”

“I’ll stay with my ship, thank you. I need to assess the
damage. Sis, you go on ahead. Offer the captain my sincere apologies.”

“I’ll do that, Archer. I’m sure he’ll understand.” She
slipped out of her grey flight suit coverall, found her leather jacket, and shrugged
it over her shoulders. Retrieving her holster and pistol, she started to strap
it on, but Ensign Dooley stopped her. “Sorry, Miss. Side arms aren’t allowed on
the bridge.”

“Is that so?” she said as she finished strapping it on.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s protocol.”

“Then tell your captain, this is where I’ll be. He can pop
down whenever he’s free.”

Dooley stepped away to speak into his collar-com privately.

Ericca folder her arms and waited.

Archer stepped up beside her. “Five slips of gold says you
stay put.”

“Ten says he invites me up, gun and all.”

“Easy money. Ten it is.”

After a moment, Dooley turned to her and beckoned. “This
way, ma’am.”

Archer’s jaw dropped.

Ericca’ cheeks raised into a smug grin. “You can pay me when
you get it,” she said with a wink, then turned and walked away.

“See you soon, sis.”

As Dooley led the way, two rifle-carrying guards took
positions behind and to either side of Ericca.

As she disappeared through a door Riley shook his head in
disbelief. Turning to his ship, he knelt by the badly damaged engine to inspect
it, chuckled to himself.

“You find the damage funny, sir?” asked a guard.

“No. I just can’t believe they’d let my sister on the bridge
armed.” If they only knew that with a pistol she was fast, accurate, and deadly,
they would’ve opted to come down here to meet her. He
hmph
ed.

“Can you gentlemen get a power-strip over here? And I’ll
need to contact our home ship to get our mechanic’s help on this.”

The lead man gestured to one of his men, who hurried away to
do as Riley asked. “We can get a cord over here, but we can’t divert power to
you, young man, until Capt. Torrington gives us the okay. As for calling home,
I’m not sure that’ll pass muster.”

“Fine. No issues. These repairs look well beyond my
abilities anyway.”

“Torrington is a fair-minded man, Mr. Archer. I’m sure
you’ll have everything you need once word comes down from the bridge.”

The bridge was a busy, bustling hive of activity. Captain
Torrington, on his feet, leaned over the shoulder of one helmsman. The lift
door hissed open.

“Wait here, miss,” someone behind him said before stepping
down into the bridge deck. He came to the captain and whispered into his ear.
“Captain Ericca Archer, sir.”

Torrington looked back over his shoulder. A young woman,
average height, wearing dark leather head-to-toe, stood relaxed at the door. In
boots that rose to her knees, her feet were firmly planted and slightly parted.
No more than her fingers hid comfortably in her pockets as she looked around
the room. Under dark, almost black hair, her fair skin was clean and healthy. A
well-worn holster rested low on her hip and was tied to her thigh. On a street
on Praxis, or Talimore, or Enri, the shapely girl might have gone unnoticed.
But here on his bridge the girl drew furtive glances from everyone who had
heard her come in.

Torrington patted the shoulder of the helmsman. “Keep a
sharp eye, Johnny,” he said before straightening. He turned to the young lady
pilot. “Captain Archer?”

Her eyes turned to his, and she dipper her head.

No
, he though,
she’d stand out no matter where she
was
.

Her face was a mask of indifference. “Captain Torrington?”
she said with a voice soft and sexy.

He was much younger than she expected, dark-skinned, and . . .

. . . at first blush,
she thought he was downright
beautiful
. Though his face was unmoved, his
dark eyes were bright and friendly. His was the kind of face that made
teenagers’ hearts go pitty-pat. Immune, Ericca
hmph
ed.

“I’m rather busy at the moment, Captain Archer. Would you
mind waiting in the conference room.”

Ericca looked at the screen, and raised a finger to ask for
one moment. Stepping past Torrington, she pointed to a Confed destroyer on the
view-screen. “That’s your key, sir. Treated right, he’ll help you get back to
your fleet.”

“Pardon?”

“Two torpedoes . . . one here, and one . . .
there,” she urged, pointing to the destroyer’s rear parts. “Then bring
Long
Bow
back across and through here. He’ll follow, and then you’ll have him.”

“Do you honestly believe he’ll break ranks, Captain?”

“I do. Confed ship captains are full of themselves. The
bigger the ship, the greater the ego. Pat his butt once or twice and he’ll
chase you like an angry barmaid.”

Torrington’s face was a mix of amusement and doubt. “Okay.
Let’s give that a go, shall we? Torpedoman, ready two, and aim for whatever
targets Captain Archer tells you.”

Without a smile, Ericca dipped her head to Torrington once
again before walking over to the torpedoman’s station. She pointed to the ship
and the chosen targets.

“Fire when ready,” Torrington said.

Both torpedoes flew straight and true. Upon connecting, the
destroyer buffeted. It pulled back out of the fleet and—
lumbering like a
drunken sailor
—turned to
Long Bow
.

“Now cut through there,” Ericca commanded.

Torrington gave a nod to the helmsman, who in turn drove
Long
Bow
into the enemy fleet where Ericca had said.

As the destroyer came about the fleet ships nearest him
backed out of their positions as well. The ships nearest them began to jockey
for an exit to follow the others and soon the entire fleet began to break ranks
and scatter.

Hammond, intensifying his fire, brought Talbot’s fleet to
complete disarray.

Meanwhile, as Torrington entered the enemy fleet from its
rear, he opened up on them with all his guns.

More Confederate ships scattered, and Talbot soon found his
flagship overrun.

Ericca looked at Torrington blandly, and gestured to the
conference room. “Wait in there, you said?” With that, she stepped off the
bridge leaving Torrington slack-jawed.

Half an hour had passed before Torrington stepped into the
conference room with his First officer at his side.

Ericca, sitting quietly with a holo-fashion magazine in
hand, looked up. “Things are now well-in-hand, I take it?”

Torrington, with knit brow, shot a thumb over his shoulder
toward the bridge. “How did you know that would work?”

She snorted a half-laugh. “If a man smacks a barmaid’s
behind she’ll scowl and storm away. But if a man smacks another man’s behind,
the response will be quite different.”

“That’s true, but how does that apply here,” he said taking
a seat across from her.

The first officer dropped into a chair between them, then
swiveled to face her. His posture was relaxed, but guarded.

“What? You’ve never been in a bar fight?” Ericca said.
“Seriously?”

“Mmm, no. Can’t say I have.”

She chuckled. “You gotta get out more. That Confederate
fleet fell apart because you turned a battle into a bar fight.”

“How did you know torpedoing that ship would make that
happen?” he said still dismayed.

“Those Confed ships’ captains aren’t fools. Well, they
are
.
But given half a chance each one would leave a battle
if
, in their own
mind, they could justify doing so. None of them wants to be there, not really.
So use that. Pirates do it all the time.”

“Indeed?”

“That destroyer captain couldn’t let an assault on his
hindquarter go unanswered. You, a man, had just slapped his behind. That was
all the excuse he needed. In his mind, that was a justifiable reason to leave
his position and go after you. All he wanted was to bring you to task for your
insulting him. But those around him didn’t know that. He backs out of the
fight. The smaller ships around him, once abandoned, feel vulnerable, so they
back out of the fight as well. And as each captain moves to save himself, so
goes discipline. Fear rippling through the fleet has its desired effect. The
whole taskforce loses its needed cohesion. The whole thing falls apart. And our
side wins.
Yea
.”

Torrington cocked his head. “You couldn’t possibly have
known that would work.”

“Evidently, I did. I don’t have to be an egg to know what an
omelet is.”

“And just what does that mean?”

“I don’t have to be a narcissist to know how an arrogant man
thinks. Such traits make certain people predictable. The trick is to trigger
‘group-think,’ without them knowing what you’re doing.”

“Amazing,” Torrington said, then he started to chuckle. His
first officer began to snigger as well. And then both men began to laugh
outright. In another moment, both settled down. Still wearing a smile,
Torrington studied the young woman for a moment.

“Well, look,” Ericca said. “My ship is totaled. Is there any
way you can help a girl out?”

“I can lend you a shuttle.”

“I was thinking more in the lines of materials, components,
that sort of thing. If we can get
Viper
space-worthy, we’ll finish
repairs on Coredei.”

“Considering all you’ve done for us, I think we can manage
that. Anything else?”

“I’m tired, sir. And I’m certain my brother is as well.
Could you spare a bed or two? Not to put anyone out or anything. A cot in some
quiet corner for a few hours will suit us just fine.”

“No issues, Captain Archer. I think we can arrange something
last minute. Your ship—
Viper
was it? What would you like done with it in
the mean time?”

“If you can spare the men, I’d like it guarded around the
clock.” She scratched the back of her neck and tried to think of what more she
might have need of, but through a tired mind, nothing came to light.

“A meal, Capt. Archer? When did you last eat?”

“Once we’ve had time to rest, sir, I wouldn’t mind some
breakfast. Sure. But for now we’re good.”

“Very well. Might I add, you had an impressive little ship.”

“
Have
, sir. I
have
an impressive little ship.
I don’t want to count it lost just yet. I want a chance to fix it first.”

“Ah, yes. And so you shall.” He turned to his second in
command. “Mr. Childers, please post guards per Capt. Archer’s request. Have Mr.
Archer brought up, and see that both he and our good captain here get settled
into our VIP rooms. During their stay, I want a personal attendant assigned to
each of our guests.”

“Very good, sir.”

“And Capt. Archer, Admiral Hammond would like to see you
aboard his ship at your earliest convenience. Shall I tell him it’ll be ten,
maybe twelve hours?”

Ericca sighed. “By all means, please. Oh, and make it
twelve.”