Vigilante (37 page)

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Authors: Laura E. Reeve

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BOOK: Vigilante
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“Shit.” Maria showed an uncharacteristic lack of grace as she tapped a
few commands. “It’s Abram. He’s coming up with others on the elevator. He wants to speak with
CP.”
“What the hell? I thought the elevator was up here—doesn’t it take at
least two hours to go down, even at maximum speed?”
“We’ve been here for at least a couple hours.”
“Can you stop the elevator?”
She tapped a few more commands. “No. All I can do is simulate comm
problems for a little while.”
“Then I have to cause mayhem, diversions, et cetera, or the crew of the
Golden Bull
is toast,” he said. “Stay quiet and keep CP locked up
tight. It’ll take a plasma torch several hours to break into here, so take advantage of the
time.”
“Be careful. You’re not wearing any armor.” She looked worried, but he
didn’t believe it for a minute.
“Maybe my charm will protect me.” He checked the charge on the
ministunner and ignored her snort.
“Take this for comm.” She tossed him a small slate. “Remember, there’re
hardly any nodes out there.”
After they agreed on channel and call signs, he checked the view of the
outside corridor and let himself out quietly. Behind him, he heard the locks slide and engage.
Yes
,
ma’am, I’m off to wreak havoc and
mayhem
. This might even be fun. He saluted the cam-eye before he slipped quietly down
the deserted corridor.
Oleander dreamed Matt was in trouble; vividly, she saw his small
prospector ship decompressing and separating into floating chunks as isolationists fired
missiles.
Where’d they get missiles?
The proximity klaxon wailed. Her eyes flew open; the bright pumped into
her bloodstream and made the transition from dream state to reality seamless. No
disorientation—although for a moment, reality seemed sharply surreal. She was webbed snugly
into her seat. Her fingers flew over her console to check the rail guns. A different alarm
shrilled from the damage assessment console.
Sergeant Albert calmly shut off the second alarm. “Explosive force
registered on port ventral section epsilon, sir. No decompression, but passive armor was blown
away. Assessment team on its way.”
Oleander realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out as she
saw the backs of other crew members relax. The passive armor was made of protective layers of
aerogel, light as air and stronger than the same thickness of titanium. The ventral epsilon
section, whether port or starboard, was immediately behind the bulge of the Penrose Fold
referential engine, which was almost indestructible. The PFR engine ended up being passive
armor in its own way.
“We’re stationary with respect to objects within one kilometer, which
are all probably mines.” Janda was sweating and he looked as if he’d lost at least five kilos
during the drop. There was no way to tell if he’d lost hair.
Decided this
was the best way to handle N-space
, he had joked earlier, stroking his shaved
head.
“Active armor is initialized and operational,” Serafin called from
tactical. She looked over at Stavros, who was tapping frantically at her console.
The proximity klaxon still wailed. Everyone waited on Stavros.
“Navigation and sensors?” Aquino asked.
“No FTL data, sir.” She slapped the console in frustration and shut off
the proximity klaxon. “This is what we’ve got through light speed.”
Everyone trained without the FTL feed from the buoy, but everyone also
hoped they’d never be the ones in that situation. Oleander felt her stomach lurch as she looked
at the display, which centered on their position and was slowly resolving other bodies in the
system. The
Bright Crescent
was oriented inside the channel with
the buoy to her stern. She was the largest object identified on the display, embedded within a
minefield.
“Is that movement out there, Chief?” Aquino asked.
Now they all saw it. Stavros changed the orientation of the display to
show a two-dimensional slice that contained the buoy arrival channel. The mine coverage down
the center of the arrival channel could still cause problems, if the
Bright Crescent
tried to move. Toward the edge of the minefield, an unseen
semicircular shield appeared to be pushing mines, much like a waiter brushing crumbs from the
tablecloth in a fancy restaurant.
Oleander watched Chief Serafin, who frowned and chewed her lip as she
furiously tapped and examined diagrams. The chief wasn’t one for making unjustified
decisions.
“That’s not a self-healing field, sir,” Serafin said at last. “The
individual mines aren’t sophisticated enough, by my readings.”
“And that movement?” Aquino asked.
“Independent of the field, sir. Whatever’s doing that—”
“Whoa! Something happened out there. All my EM instruments were
blinded.” Muttering something about gain and saturation, Stavros adjusted her sensors. Heads
lifted to watch the diagram, computationally constructed through multiple sensor inputs and
readings. It warped, shuddered, and adjusted.
“Captain Stavros?” Lieutenant Colonel Aquino kept his attention on his
navigation and sensors officer.
“Gotcha!” Stavros turned around to face the command chairs with a
triumphant grin. “There
is
an artificial body out there.”
“A ship?” Aquino asked.
“That’s my guess, sir. It’s actively shunting and redirecting EM
radiation; that’s
true
cloaking, if ever I saw it!” Stavros ran her
words together in her excitement. “But there’s something wrong with their profile. With that
last surge, I managed to catch diffraction off hard corners—perhaps they’ve been
damaged.”
Aquino rotated to exchange a glance with Edones. Both commanders seemed
thoughtful.
“It’s a good bet that’s
not
our
isolationists, given the technology,” Edones said.
Aquino nodded. “And more mines have to be cleared before the
Percival
drops in. They’d take damage from a detonation like the
one we just handled.”
There was a quiet pause. Nobody even fidgeted.
“Comm, prepare to send a tightbeam message to the position that Captain
Stavros calculated.” Edones’s voice was so cool and conversational that his order didn’t
immediately register with Kozel.
With a start, the lieutenant acknowledged. “What channel, sir?”
“Use our standard emergency channel. Send in the clear and use low
power, as if we were in local exchange range.”
Lieutenant Kozel looked horrified. “Unsecured, sir? Even though
tightbeam’s directional—”
“Give me mike control,
Lieutenant
.”
Oleander half expected icicles to grow on Lieutenant Kozel’s nose, given
Edones’s tone. As it was, the young man’s face did freeze. He gulped and set something on his
console, presumably following orders.
“This is the
Bright Crescent
, registered
with the Armed Forces of the Consortium, calling Knossos-ship. We request assistance, under the
Phaistos Protocols.” Edones repeated this twice, precisely enunciating each word.
What was a Knossos-ship? Why was he broadcasting in the clear? Oleander
looked up to see the two noncoms on the control deck exchanging a tense glance.
“Acknowledged, Bright Crescent-ship. This is Knossos-ship, Warrior
Commander speaking.”
The response on the control deck was immediate and electrifying.
Lieutenant Kozel jerked backward, and looked toward Aquino. The younger officers exchanged
glances, eyes wide. Everyone recognized the voice as Minoan. Oleander turned to watch the
commanders and saw a sight she’d never expected. Colonel Edones’s face was pale and stark.
Fear? Lieutenant Colonel Aquino didn’t look any better.
Aquino whispered, “Holy Avatars of Gaia.”
“They’ve mobilized a
Warrior
,” Edones said
quietly, a comment probably intended only for Aquino’s ears.
CHAPTER 21
No better service can a son give his father than to sacrifice his life
for the Cause, our Freedom from the interference of other cultures.
 

The Cause, Qesan Douchet
, est.
2073.011 UT, indexed by
Heraclitus 24
under Conflict Imperative
 
 
A
riane didn’t know how far off their stern the
Aether’s Touch
rode. The small second-wave prospector ship didn’t
have weapons, unless one considered the rail guns. Every ship that traveled real-space sported
at least one set of symmetrical, but independent, rail guns for clearing debris or for moving
via momentum transfer.
Aether’s Touch
had three pairs, of a caliber
that she could barely accelerate by forty thousand meters per second squared, which might not
get through the
Chasma
’s active smart armor.
“It won’t let me program a higher yield.” Emery seemed fascinated with
his weapon interface.
Tahir looked over his shoulder at the console. Ariane noticed that he
still held his stunner; he hadn’t relaxed, like Emery, and laid it down.
“That’s because we’re using test codes. Don’t worry, we’ll still destroy
the buoy,” Tahir said.
“And cause the sun to supernova,” Ariane said. “That’s what happens when
a temporal-distortion wave flips out time dimensions at the quantum level.”
Emery scowled and reached to caress his pistol. “Stay quiet, Major, or
you’ll be seeing your retribution early.”
“Remember, completing her arc will also raise your kismet,” Tahir said.
“Don’t listen to her. There won’t be any nova.”
Emery scowled at the mention of kismet, perhaps feeling he had no reason
to fear justice from a higher power, or anyone else, for that matter. Ariane’s opinion
differed; she felt Colonel Dokos’s tag against her rib whenever she pressed her elbow to her
side. It fueled her anger, but she followed Tahir’s lead and looked down to avoid antagonizing
Emery.
She wondered why Tahir was lying. He acted as if he wanted to detonate
this weapon, but she kept ready, watching.
What the hell
is
Tahir doing on this ship, and why did he drag me along?
“I’ve lowered our deceleration. I’m shutting off the gravity generator.
We’ll be near arming position within the hour, so web in.” Julian secured himself with his
webbing.
She made motions to follow suit, awkwardly fiddling with tied hands so
the quick-release tabs on her webbing were easily accessible. The isolationists had obviously
disabled the safety protocols in the real-space piloting controls, but thank Gaia, Julian was
competent enough to ensure they didn’t end up as jelly on the bulkheads.
After that, everyone was quiet. Julian looked like he was still toughing
out nausea. The other two men were probably contemplating their impending, glorious demise. She
scowled. Cipher’s attempt on her life had convinced her of one thing: She wasn’t prepared to
enter the afterlife. Not yet.
A call from Abram broke the reverie on the control deck. Since they had
FTL comm, Emery answered from his console for a real-time conversation. Tahir floated to a
position behind Emery’s chair while Ariane pointedly showed no interest in the
conversation.
“My team on the
Pilgrimage
reports an AFCAW
cruiser has dropped into our minefield. Furthermore, some sort of standoff shield is moving
mines.” Abram’s gravelly voice filled the deck and seemed flatter than she remembered. She saw
all the men tense up.
“That’s impossible. They don’t have that kind of technology,” Tahir
said.
“They’re Autonomist. You,
Major
. Do AFCAW
ships have standoff debris shields?” Emery asked. Ariane turned to look at the business end of
his flechette pistol.
“Maybe.” She shrugged, but Emery wagged his pistol and gestured for more
information. “If so, it’s experimental.”
Tahir’s eyes narrowed as he watched her, but he made no comment as he
turned back to face the cam-eye. He didn’t believe her, but she realized he didn’t care.
Why isn’t he concerned about the AFCAW ship?
Abram read off the identifier and Emery looked at her. “Are you familiar
with that ship,
Major
?”
“No.” She lied. There was plenty of information about the
Bright Crescent
in its public registry. Perhaps they’d take time to initiate a
search in ComNet, since they had control of outbound comm.
“I want to know why they’re capable of using a locked-down buoy.”
Abram’s voice was colorless and, from the men’s reaction, she got the feeling that Abram was
enraged. Emery and Tahir both began babbling, each protecting his reputation at the detriment
of the other.
“There’re rumors of military override codes, but they won’t be able to
drop out,” began Tahir.

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