Pledge Allegiance (7 page)

“That’s great,” I said, watching her. In the blue glow from the turbine, she looked almost ghost-like. Her right hand held the tracker in place while her metallic left hand worked on the insides. After a few moments, the device came free and she replaced the cover.

She crawled out to where I was waiting and held the tracker up so I could see it. The red light in the casing was still illuminated.

“It’s working,” she said. “So when we throw it out into space, they’ll still be tracking its movement. That gives me an idea.”

“Tell me,” I said.

“Instead of jettisoning the tracker out of the airlock, where it will simply float in space and reveal our last known position, we could shoot it out of one of the rear guns. Whoever is watching its movement might thing we’ve turned around. It could buy us some time.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. How are we going to shoot it out of the gun?”

“We can attach it to a missile. We’ll disarm the missile first by removing the warhead.”

“Let’s do it,” I said.

We ascended the ladder, Tegan holding the toolbox in her left hand. I wondered how strong her mechanical limbs were. She climbed rapidly, leaving me to come up slowly behind her. When I finally reached the main Engineering deck, Tegan led me past the engines to the rear of the room where a door slid aside and opened onto a small room that contained a circular hatch door and a row of missiles racked in a machine that loaded them into the firing tube behind the hatch.

She opened the toolbox again and quickly and expertly removed the warhead from the lowermost missile. She placed the conical piece of steel carefully into a storage area that held more warheads, and then attached the tracker to the side of the disarmed missile’s body.

She pressed a large red button on the wall and the circular hatch opened. At the same time, the lowermost missile, the one with the tracker attached to its side, dropped from the rack and was automatically loaded into the tube. The circular hatch closed behind it.

“Ready to fire,” Tegan said.

I nodded. “Let’s get rid of that thing.”

She lifted her head and said, “Morrow, I’m going to manually fire rear missile launcher one-A.”

“Affirmative,” Morrow’s voice said through the wall-mounted speakers.

Tegan pressed a second button and I heard a rushing sound beyond the circular hatch door.

“That’s it,” Tegan said. “It’s out in space now, rocketing back the way we came.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Now let’s hope it buys us some time.”

N
othing happened for three days
. Life on the
Finch
settled into a routine of eating, sleeping, and sitting on the bridge, checking reports on the ship’s systems. The old Avis class fighter was running optimally. Vess had hired the best technicians and mechanics to refurbish the
Finch
and it showed in her performance.

She was basically flying herself and intervention from the crew was minimal. So instead of focusing on redundant tasks, we spent our time watching space, searching for an enemy ship in our vicinity.

When we were only an hour out from the second gate, and in sub-light speed, I thought we might actually make it there without incident. But Morrow turned to me and said, “Captain, there’s a predator class ship in our path.”

“Can you identify her?” I asked. I got up from my seat and stood watching the forward window. Given the distance the
Finch
could detect other ships, there was no way I was going to be able to see the predator in our way, but I felt too keyed up to stay seated.

Vess was also on the bridge, seated at the console beside Morrow and looking suddenly worried.

“Negative,” Morrow said. “We’re too far away at the moment.”

“Well, there’s one thing we know,” I said. “If she’s a predator class ship, she isn’t an alien vessel.”

“She’s probably Imperium…or a pirate ship,” Morrow said.

“Yes, and knowing what we know about a possible Outsider infiltration of the Imperium, I think I’d prefer pirates.”

Vess turned in his seat to face me. “What are we going to do, Captain?”

“We’re going to wait to see what happens next,” I said. “It might just be an Imperium patrol wondering what an old Avis class fighter is doing in the area.”

“She’s scanning us, Captain,” Morrow said.

“Identify her,” I said. If she was able to scan us, we should be able to identify her.

Morrow tapped his keyboard and consulted his screen. “She’s an Imperium fighter. The
Zodiac
. According to the computer, the
Zodiac
is usually stationed in orbit around the planet Druun-9.”

“Druun-9,” I repeated. “Where’s that?”

He consulted the screen again. “It’s an Imperium planet in the Ripley sector, Captain.”

The Ripley sector. The same sector Commander Everson was in charge of. That was no coincidence.

“They’re hailing us, Captain,” Morrow said.

“On screen.” I stepped down off the dais and stood by Morrow and Vess.

The front window changed to a screen that showed a gray-haired man in an Imperium captain’s uniform. He sat in his captain’s chair while, around him, his bridge crew was busy working their various consoles.

“Captain Blake,” he said, leaning forward slightly and regarding Morrow, Vess, and myself. “I am Captain Partridge of the
Zodiac
. I am here to inform you, on behalf of the Imperium, that your mission may not continue. You are ordered to turn back.”

So this was how they were going to play it, was it? Instead of attacking us, they were going to tell us to turn around and forget about Savarea. I guessed it made sense. If we did as they asked, they could avoid bringing unwanted attention to Savarea and whatever the hell was hidden there.

“Turn back?” I said as if I had misheard Partridge. “On what grounds?”

“The Imperium is aware of the nature of your mission,” he said. “If there are survivors on Savarea, it is our responsibility to rescue them. The planet is in Horde space and traveling there is too dangerous for your small crew. Leave it to us. We have ships en route to Savarea already.” He looked at Vess. “Mr. Vess, you may rest assured that we will bring your daughter back safely.”

Vess shook his head. “I chose this crew to get my daughter back, Captain Partridge, because I didn’t want the Imperium to get involved. There’s really no need to use your resources in this matter. I have every confidence in Captain Blake and the crew of the
Finch
to rescue Georgia from that planet.”

Partridge sighed and I wondered if he had expected us to simply turn back without any resistance.

“Captain Blake,” he said, “if you do not turn your ship around, I have orders to use any force necessary—”

“Of course you do,” I said, cutting him off, “and I suppose those orders come from Commander Everson.” I leaned forward, resting my hands on the control consoles and said, “Tell me something. How much are you being paid to work for the Outsiders and betray your own race?”

He seemed taken aback by that. He frowned at me through the screen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do,” I said. “Everson put Provost and Gorman on board this ship to kill Mr. Vess and myself in the hope that the mission to Savarea would be abandoned. When that didn’t happen, you had to try a different tact. Sending us back home keeps us away from Savarea and gives you time to…what, kill those survivors?

“Because if they’ve been on the planet for a year, they’re sure to know what’s going on there. You didn’t know they were there, though, did you? Not until Vess put together this rescue mission. So I’m guessing that after we turn back, you’ll be heading through the gate to Savarea, not to rescue those survivors but to kill them.”

He sat back in his chair and grinned at me but there was no humor in his eyes. “I’m impressed by your thinking, Captain Blake. And to think I was told that you were nothing more than a drunken waste of space pining for his Imperium days. It’s a shame you’ve recovered a captainship only to lose it, and your ship, so soon.” He turned to one of his crew and said, “Raise shields.” The screen went blank and was then replaced by the window showing the stars.

“They’re raising shields, Captain,” Morrow said.

I flicked the switch on the arm of my chair to open a ship-wide channel. “Battle stations.” The alarm began to wail and the red lights started to flash.

“We’re being fired on,” Morrow said.

“Evasive maneuvers and shields.”

“Yes, Captain.” I thought I detected a hint of excitement in his voice. Grinning, he slid his chair to one side to position himself in front of the flight yoke. He hit the switch that took the
Finch
out of automatic pilot and activated the yoke. Morrow twisted it and the ship tilted sharply to the left.

I had to grab my chair to stop myself from falling over, reminding myself that I had ordered the crew to battle stations and not taken up my own. I was supposed to be buckled into the captain’s chair.

I climbed into the seat and hit the button that sent the safety belt snaking around my waist.

“We’ve avoided the initial salvo,” Morrow said.

In the front window, I could now see the
Zodiac
. She was twice the length and width of the
Finch
and better armed. She was white, and on her side, in dark blue, she displayed the emblem of the Imperium, a shield topped by an eagle’s head and wings. Within the shield was a painted star field and a depiction of Earth.

Everson and Partridge had betrayed that emblem.

The intercom by my arm buzzed. “All weapon systems online, Captain,” Tegan Prime said.

“Let’s try and wear down their shields,” I told Morrow. “Use the rail gun and a salvo of missiles.”

“Yes, Captain.”

A flurry of fire emanated from the
Finch
toward the
Zodiac
. The missiles and rail gun projectiles hit the Imperium ship’s shields and dissipated. With each shot the
Zodiac
’s shields deflected, they would weaken as the power they demanded to stay active was gradually drained.

Our small size and Morrow’s skill might be our advantage in this fight. If we could avoid the
Zodiac
’s weapons by outmaneuvering them instead of relying on our shields, we should be in good enough shape to attack the
Zodiac
when her shields were down and ours were still fully functional.

Most ship-to-ship combat was a war of attrition. It didn’t always pay to have the largest ship around if a smaller vessel could wear down your defenses with quick, repeated attacks.

I was hoping the next few minutes would prove that to be true.

“Mr. Morrow, bring her around so we can get a few shots in before she retaliates.”

“Aye, Captain. I’ll get us close enough to touch her shields.” Morrow moved the yoke and the
Finch
came about, our flight path taking us closer to the
Zodiac
.

The onboard guns fired at the
Zodiac
’s shields, the arcs of rail-gun fire illuminated by yellow tracers that swarmed toward the enemy ship like angry space fireflies.

“Their shield power is decreasing,” Morrow said, consulting a screen on his console. The light emanating from the screen lit his face a pale, ghostly blue.

The
Zodiac
’s cannon shot a yellow ball of energy toward us. The plasma missile hurtled through space toward the
Finch
at such speed that I was sure we couldn’t evade it, and I gripped the arms of my chair hard as I prepared for impact.

But Morrow twisted the flight yoke and the
Finch
rolled lazily. The plasma missile exploded off our stern and the expended energy rocked us but nothing more.

I hit the button that connected me to Engineering. “Status report, Ms. Prime.”

“We’ve taken a little damage but nothing we can’t handle. Weapons and engines are functioning at optimal levels.”

“So she’s holding together?” I asked.

“Yes, Captain, she’s holding together,” she confirmed.

“Bring us in for another strafing run,” I told Morrow. “Let’s try to take out those shields.”

He nodded and piloted us closer to the predator class vessel. As we approached, our guns went into action, attacking the
Zodiac
’s shields. Blue sparks at the points of impact told me the shields were faltering. Vess really had equipped the
Finch
with the most up-to-date weaponry available.

“How are we doing?” I asked Morrow.

“Their shields are down to fifteen percent capacity,” he said. “But they’re pulling power from the shields into their plasma cannon. They’re going to hit us hard.”

“Make sure we avoid it,” I said. “Begin evasive action now.”

“Aye, sir.” He rolled us again, handling the controls with a deft touch and getting the
Finch
to respond immediately.

A ball of energy pulsed from the
Zodiac
’s cannon toward us. It loomed large in the window as it shot toward us through space. Morrow pushed the yoke forward and I was glad the
Finch
was equipped with the same state-of-the-art G-stabilizers as the shuttle. Otherwise, everyone on the ship would probably be vomiting right now as our speed increased for a split second.

But even Morrow’s evasive maneuver wasn’t enough to outrun the massive energy burst caused by the plasma missile’s explosion. The
Finch
rocked violently and Morrow shouted, “Shields are down, Captain. We’re totally exposed here.”

I jabbed the intercom. “Ms. Prime, how long to get those shields back up?”

“At least thirty minutes,” she said. “We’ve taken a hit and one of the power generators has been damaged. I can’t get enough power to energize the shields until it’s fixed.”

“Get on that,” I told her.

“Already on it,” she said.

“How are the engines? We may have to make a run for it.”

“We’re only at two-thirds capacity. We need to get that generator back online.”

“Let me know the minute we’re back to full power,” I said before ending the communication.

So we were an easy target. We couldn’t outrun the
Zodiac
and the next shot she sent our way could destroy us.

“What’s our next move?” Vess asked me. His face still held a worried look and I wondered if he was considering the fact that he might never see his daughter again. If we were blown out of space, the traitorous Imperium soldiers working for Commander Everson would land on Savarea—maybe under the guise of a rescue mission—and kill every survivor from the
Oregon
.

I wasn’t going to let that happen. I couldn’t.

“Mr. Morrow, are their shields still at fifteen percent?”

He checked the screen. “Seventeen percent now, Captain.”

I made a quick mental calculation. Assuming the shields had been at one hundred percent before we’d started firing at them, we had taken out eighty-five percent of their efficacy with two strafing runs. So a third run should take them out altogether. Once the shields were down, the
Zodiac
’s hull would be just as exposed as our own. If we had enough firepower left on the run, we might be able to damage her before she could retaliate.

“How much do you know about predator class ships, Mr. Morrow?”

“Everything,” he said levelly.

“So you know the best place to hit that one,”—I indicated the
Zodiac
beyond the window—“to take out her engines?”

He considered it for a second and then nodded. “I know how to do some damage, yes.”

“Then let’s do it. Take us in for another run. We should be able to take out her shields. Once they’re down, focus on her engines.”

Morrow grinned. “Aye, sir.” He increased our speed and pointed the
Finch
directly at the
Zodiac
. “We’ll have to get underneath her for this to work. That means getting up close and personal.”

I nodded. We had no choice. If we didn’t act now, we’d be blown into space dust by the larger ship.

The
Zodiac
filled the entire window as we got closer, her hull a dull white beneath the faint electric blue glow of the shields. Morrow seemed to be biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike. I realized I was gripping the arms of my chair so hard that my knuckles had turned white.

“When you’re ready, Mr. Morrow,” I said, in case he was waiting for my order to fire the weapons. We were so close to the
Zodiac
’s shields, we’d hit them soon if we didn’t change course. And we were moving too fast and were too close to change course now.

“A few more seconds,” Morrow whispered, almost to himself.

Then he fired and the rail guns spat out their projectiles at the shield. We didn’t need the yellow tracers to show us the arc of fire because the shields flared with each impact until finally, they disappeared.