Flight of the corsac fox, p.25
Flight of the Corsac Fox, page 25
Still, useful to come back later. Or to sell to an information broker, if nothing else.
Corsac Fox likely wasn’t the only pirate operating in this Sector. Perhaps the most brazen, though.
Today.
But if you knew what to expect, in terms of defenses and value, that ought to be worth something to folks.
“Mr. Ramezani,” Sterling Huff said, causing Haydar to look up from his screens. “Will it be more or less useful in the long-term if we fired a single shot at the station from here? Do we desire a greater panic on their part when they realize we’re pirates, or greater confusion when both ships vanish?”
Haydar’s smile widened. Smart lad. Willing to ask someone who might possibly have been involved in such shenanigans when he was not much older that Sterling Huff.
Valid question. What would Uly think?
That was the kicker. Humans were both more logical than Mazhin and Auga at times, and completely insane in others.
“Do they have anything that can threaten us at present?” Haydar asked instead, challenging the youth to think.
“They do not,” Sterling replied. “The station itself likely has something like 1dm defensive turrets, same as ours, but nothing in our records from Mr. Ewin suggests offensive firepower.”
“What would be the response if we came back later?” Haydar pursued.
“If we shoot now, they’ll open fire immediately next time they saw us.” Sterling nodded crisply. “If we flee, they may think we are far less of a threat, were the Captain to return for a second go at all this stuff. Both have strengths and weaknesses, but I have no idea how the wider Auga Empire would react to the two scenarios.”
Haydar was impressed. Sterling had considered both, rather than asking first. He was seeking an expert opinion having recognized that his knowledge was insufficient. He could see why Uly trusted the young man to command the ship in his absence.
“In such a case, what they don’t know about us is probably more valuable than knowing,” Haydar intoned carefully. “Remember that this vessel is over-armed for the size category, according to Piruz and Marlowe. They will be expecting a pair of 4dm guns, rather than a twin 6dm turret. I think we’re better off unknown.”
“Understood,” Sterling nodded sharply. “There we go. Cargo vessel has transitioned to warp. Blakeslee, any threats along our programmed path?”
“Negative, sir,” Blakeslee replied immediately. “Drew has us going up and out.”
“Engaging warp bubble,” Sterling called, mashing a button on his console.
Haydar smiled.
He was a pirate.
Again.
FIFTY-SEVEN
Dan waited until the ship bubbled up and fled, then grabbed Wyndham, Travers, and Nasrin.
“Uly, lock the hatch behind me,” she announced, moving to the door. “Use the cameras before you open it again.”
He looked back at her confused for a moment before his visage cleared.
“Good luck and stay safe,” he said.
She nodded and stepped through, Heavy Exoripper pointed down the empty hallway.
Nobody had reacted by running to the bridge to stop them or moving down to bother Piruz and the cousins in Engineering. That didn’t say that there was nobody aboard.
It was her job to confirm that. Well, technically Wyndham’s, but he’d never cleared a hostile warship with live weapons.
Training day.
Dan popped open the faceplate of her helmet and understood why Uly’s face had been sour. The air wasn’t bad but needed to be fully cycled through the life support generators. And probably needed new filters everywhere as well. The taste was just yucky.
She turned to Nasrin.
“If you can handle the smell, I’d like your tentacles available,” Dan said.
Nasrin’s eyebrows went up. Or the ridges where Humans had eyebrows.
Mazhin had body hair. Just nothing on their heads, male or female. Not even whiskers.
The woman popped open her face plate, which was so much larger than Dan’s because Ononguli needed space for horns. Tentacles peeked out, tasting the air with about the same opinion Dan had.
Yuck.
The same feeling was evident in Nasrin’s eyes.
“Ew,” Nasrin said.
Dan grinned.
“Yes, but is there anybody aboard?” she asked.
“Gimme a second,” Nasrin replied.
Dan joined Wyndham and Travers pointing guns down the hallway, on the off chance somebody had only now woken up to power, lights, heat, and gravity slowly coming up to comfortable levels.
“Nobody has been around here but us for long enough that they’ve left no trace,” Nasrin announced after a few moments.
“Good enough,” Dan nodded. “Close yourself up for now, but we’ll do it again as we move around. I expect folks have been down on the cargo decks from time to time, if only to swap out foodstuff cans over time. We’ll sweep the tower, then move forward. Uly, are you listening?”
“I am,” he came on immediately.
“Can you lock every hatch right now and let me know if somebody tries to open one?” she asked.
“Good idea,” he said. “Hang on. Okay, that should do it. You want me to unlock them as you go, I presume?”
“You are correct,” Dan smiled.
That was something else she liked about the man. He would listen to ideas from a female and give her credit for them, instead of hearing her speak, repeating it, and taking all the credit. Like that asshole Dupuis.
Sweeping the offices and rooms on the top deck was quick. No cabins up here, but the top deck was also pinched in on all sides for whatever reasons.
Next deck was where half the crew supposedly lived, from the signs on the walls. Upper Crew Deck.
Dan figured that the flight crew would live up here, and the machinists would be below, a deck up from cargo, where they could get down to their jobs quickly.
Nobody here, and no signs of habitation as they went room to room. No signs of anything, as a matter of fact. Each cabin had either a single bunk or a double, with one or two empty footlockers and armoires for clothing. No art. No clothing. No nothing.
No people. That was good.
Down a deck to recreation and food. Space for folks to relax, read, or watch vids. Dusty enough everywhere to confirm how long it had been since folks had been in here, but she wasn’t about to cut corners sweeping. Wyndham needed the experience. As did Nasrin.
“Wyndham, check the pantries for dates,” she ordered, just to get him used to that sort of thing.
He did, then emerged a few moments later with a can in hand and the most confused look on his face.
“Uhm?” he said, holding it out.
Dan looked at the bottom, paused, then laughed out loud.
“Whoops,” she said. “Hadn’t considered Auga dates. Used to doing it this way at home. Nasrin, can you read this?”
Of course, the can wouldn’t be printed with Batyr or Danumash dates she knew. Right?
Nasrin took the can and flipped it over.
“Forty months, roughly,” she said after a moment, tentacles waggling back and forth distractedly. “Not entirely new but replaced in the last year or so.”
“Okay, so that was the last time we had crew through here, most likely,” Dan said. “And all the entertainment might be a little weird, but good for language practice if nothing else. Down some more and we can check in on Piruz and the cousins.”
The group laughed along with her and moved to clear the rest of the tower.
FIFTY-EIGHT
Uly relaxed as the ship was away. Roscoe had plotted the same sort of mad evasion course out of this system that had gotten them away from Vynchen. Inefficient, but extremely difficult to trace, because most people settled for odd zigzags along the way.
He wondered if that was how Auga caught pirates. Let them get lazy and sail in a straight-enough line that maybe a good navigator could figure out where they were headed and go straight. Or be waiting there.
Uly had no immediate course in mind until they got to an uninhabited planetary system nearly fifty light-years from Zhoralong, where they would rendezvous with Corsac Fox. Run and hide.
Dan and the others were slowly clearing out the ship, one room at a time. He and Roscoe were alone and locked in on the bridge. Piruz and the Thogin cousins were below.
“So far, nobody aboard,” Dan announced. “Evidence suggests that it has been nearly a year as well.”
“Good to know,” Uly replied.
The ship’s inventory should keep his crew fed for at least a year. And stockpiles with parts and metal to make new ones. What would he do with a year?
“Sir?” Roscoe looked over.
“Sorry,” Uly said. “Mumbling under my breath. Trying to sort out what we can do with the freedom this ship represents.”
“We going home?”
“No,” Uly replied. “I’m not sure I can, given things. Not sure I want to, either. If you or the others do, someone will need to tell me, so I can steal you a ship to make that journey.”
“I’m enjoying the scenery, sir,” Roscoe said, gesturing to the main screen that was currently showing an animation indicating their course and progress. “If I went back to Danumash, at best I’m probably thrown into prison for a year for not fighting you and Dan to the death when you first boarded us. Or escaping subsequent.”
“Really?” Uly asked, taken aback.
“We’re civilians, a lot of us,” Roscoe reminded him. “I mean, technically I’m still active duty, but that was six years and out learning the craft from Hylda. Blair’s civilian. So are Cleve and Kit. The rest of us pretty much stopped being Danumash when Iron Wasp captured us. If not long before that.”
“If I never return to Batyr, what happens to you?” Uly asked, turning to face the man.
“I never return to Danumash,” Roscoe nodded. “Nobody ever told me that there were this many intelligent species out there doing things. I want to see them all before I go home.”
“I might hold you to that,” Uly grinned.
Drew Roscoe grinned back.
“I might make you, sir,” he nodded back. “I’m not the son of anybody important, so I was never going to rank high in the Combined Crowns, no matter what I did. Sterling is the son of a gentleman. Solomon is the fourth son of a duke. They were always going to be officers, if they survived. The others didn’t survive, but that’s why Danumash has so many around.”
“What if we have to sneak back later to recruit Humans as crew members?” Uly asked.
He and Roscoe hadn’t spoken much. And that mostly on professional topics. This might be one of the first times they’d verged over onto the personal.
At the same time, Uly knew himself to be a private individual, and the Combined Crowns prized reticence.
“Probably better if you can recruit from Batyr,” Roscoe replied. “I mean, Danumash is closer right now, but a little too snoopy about us showing up in port somewhere and putting out a help wanted sign.”
“Batyr would be just as bad,” Uly laughed. “If not worse. We might have to slip in and capture some Human ships, then offer the crews the chance to either join us or go home.”
“A lot of folks would jump at the chance, sir,” Roscoe said earnestly. “Like me, they might have even encountered Mazhin or Thogin. Maybe Emro. None of the others. Everything beyond Mazhin were legends to me, and Haydar and his people were as well until the fleet hired Hylda to transport the team.”
Uly nodded and fell silent. Did he really want to never go home? To only slip back into Human space long enough to find more sailors, then head back out into the wider galaxy?
That sounded so much better than returning to duty as an Absent Without Leave Ensign, regardless of the stories he might tell, all of which would be true. Or the power of his father inside the Party to shield him if the fleet got obnoxious about things.
“Food for thought,” Uly replied. “How long until we arrive at our destination?”
“Couple of hours at this rate,” Roscoe said.
“You fly us for now,” Uly decided. “I’m going to sit in the chair and think. Maybe meditate some, so I’m fresh when we get there.”
“We expecting problems, sir?” Roscoe asked.
“No,” Uly assured him. “Decisions about our future.”
FIFTY-NINE
Uly studied the spot where the stolen ship had arrived. Dan and her team were back from their sweep. Piruz and Ethir had everything running fine below. He could just sit and study the planet nearby.
Habitable, though not inhabited. Human philosophers had posited theories of a long-departed elder race that had come through at some point in the far distant past and seeded any number of planets with life. Not all of it used the same combination of amino acids, but far too many had at least plants and lower animals when Humans first arrived, though no intelligent, tool-using species.
And even then, the Humans were actually fifty or one hundred thousand years behind some of the early leaders like the Auga. The Empire was proof of that.
But life was everywhere. Generally, not poisonous or toxic on most worlds. Possibly venomous in a few places.
This world below them didn’t even rate a name in the data banks. Just a long alphanumeric in Auga that indicated life existed and many species could walk on the surface with preparation. Gravity about eighty-five percent what Uly was used to. Air a little thin. Temperature a little high in some places and low in others.
Nobody lived there according to the stolen records. No satellites or radio signals from the ground indicating any change.
He looked up and realized that everyone was watching him. Waiting for him. Uly blushed briefly, then nodded.
“So far, so good,” he announced. “Safe and quiet here. Just waiting for Corsac Fox to catch up with us, since they remained behind and watched our trail for anybody chasing us from Zhoralong.”
“Is this a long-term base we might use?” Dan asked.
Uly tilted his head back and forth.
“Maybe?” he offered. “Too close to a couple of main shipping lanes for my comfort. I’m nervous that a patrol might stumble across our trail coming here some time and jump us. Thought about systems closer to Sector Seventeen, but I assume the Auga will start looking for us there, once they figure out what happened. I’m leaning towards farther away. Someplace maybe closer to Sector Twenty-One and the Ononguli Reaches.”
“Why there?” she asked, brow furrowed.
“Closer to home for half our crew,” Uly said. “Maybe we can recruit more folks once these get socialized. The Mazhin don’t really have worlds as bases like we think of them, and there aren’t many Emro worlds around here we can visit quietly.”
He started to say something more when most of his board suddenly lit up red with emergencies.
Uly looked down and realized that someone had just come out of their warp bubble right on top of the stolen freighter, but it wasn’t Corsac Fox.
Rather than waste time cursing, he slammed one hand down to bring the Electroshield Array up and start the Neutron Omnipulsar charging. Those alarms had been activated when automated systems detected a wavebolt inbound and tracking.
“Roscoe, we’re got trouble!” he snapped, bringing the pilot’s hands onto controls. “Move us if you can.”
“He’s too close to get back to warp,” Roscoe replied. “But that ship is also small. Maybe we can get enough of a head start?”
“Do it.”
Uly concentrated on gunnery. The Omnipulsar was a vertically arranged beam weapon, emerging from the ship’s back and drawing a continuous charge from a set of generators aft that were on standby right now. Everything was already cycling up to full power as he brought a targeting hex around on his screen.
“Pirate vessel, you will surrender immediately.”
Uly didn’t recognize the voice, but they seemed to know him. Someone from Zhoralong that had tracked him somehow? Or guessed right?
He looked closer and realized that the attacking ship was small. No bigger than King Hewitt II had been. The Empire called that class Seekers, but the one coming after them right now looked like an Ultra-Bomber. The first wavebolt had been a 1dm. Mostly a defensive torpedo, used to engage larger bolts, but perfectly adequate to slam into Uly’s Electroshield Array with a wallop.
He targeted it with the Omnipulsar and started damaging the wavebolt as it closed. They didn’t move at light speed, so he had a little time. Not much. And only a single Omnipulsar to degrade the effectiveness of the weapon. At the same time, it also wasn’t a big ship killer.
“Roscoe?” he asked through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off the targeting screen as the wavebolt wiggled to evade him.
“Dead stop, max thrust, fighting inertia,” the man replied, frustration evident in his tones.
Worst place to be surprised, but there was nothing they could do about it. At least today he had an Omnipulsar to shoot back with. King Hewitt II had lacked even that.
And a 1dm bolt didn’t have the mass or range. He was able to nearly finish it off before it slammed into the Array. Hardly any damage, and none got through to the hull itself.
“Pirate vessel, that was your only warning. You will surrender or be destroyed.”
This time, they seemed serious, like that first one had been nothing more than a warning shot across his bow? A 1dm? Possibly.
A second wavebolt started tracking and Uly felt everything go cold.
That was a 6dm. Ship killer of a scale with cruisers. The sort of thing an overgunned Interceptor like Corsac Fox had, when most ships that size limited out at 3dm or 4dm weapons.
The Empire was going to kill his ship, and there was nothing Uly could do about it.
