Overdrive (30 page)

Felix returned to
the Overdrive, rapidly running a systems check before closing the cover. He
opened a channel to Tarquin.

“Its ready.”

Tarquin’s AI
generated portrait merely nodded in response and cut the link.

Crystal felt a
twinge and grabbed Felix before he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Outside the ship,
another asteroid, despite Tarquin’s best efforts to avoid it, was about to
strike the Hot Tucker’s engine room. Overdrive engaged, the ship disappeared in
a flash of light, the asteroid passing through the spot occupied by the ship a
mere nanosecond earlier. Aboard the attacking vessel, Eighth Grand Master
Target Designator Dref IV, opened his mandibles in dismay, allowing his bottom lip
to sag. “Mecolik sa betooli”
*

◊

Gabriella sat
astride the naked man, enjoying watching the play of his muscles as he bucked
beneath her. His hands squeezed her large firm breasts, the grip tightening as
he gasped his way towards orgasm. With one final heave, he came, lying back
with a sweaty grin of satisfaction.

“Right," she
said, all business. “You’ve had your fun, now get down there," she
indicated her groin, “and finish the job.” She stood up and pulled his head
forcibly into her crutch. Unable to complain and barely able to breath, the
hapless male went about his task with enthusiasm, trying not to dwell on the
consequences of not pleasing the Angelic Princess.

Her own orgasm
well on its way from the rhythmic motions of his tongue, she was somewhat
miffed when an urgent message came through her AI, demanding urgent attention.
With a curse, she threw the man aside.

“What is it?,"
she demanded.

Sammael appeared
under her eyelid. “The ship’s repaired Princess. We’re ready to depart at your
command.”

“Thank you
Sammael. Thank you very much,” she said acidly and cut the link. The man,
Captain Jacques deMer, lay back on the bed, a confused look on his face.

“A problem?,"
he asked.

Gabriella ignored
him, throwing on her robe and buckling a silver breastplate over it.

Captain deMer,
realizing that he was being dismissed, finally rose and began donning his own
garments. No stranger to arrogance and accustomed to the haughty behavior of
passing Areopagite dignitaries, he gave his dismissal little thought.

Gabriella had met
the Captain of Planetary Defense Station 8 whilst wandering around, waiting for
her ship to be repaired. Tall, handsome and muscular, he was just her type. A
bit too talkative for her liking. Her AI supplied translation program gave his
French accent an annoying inflection.

Finished dressing,
she exited the bedroom without a backward look. Leaving his apartment,
Gabriella found an AG lift, commanding it to take her to her ship. Seconds
later, the door to the capsule opened, revealing a small, unadorned chamber
containing a number of tiny, field reinforced portholes. Gabriella walked out
and peered out of one of the portholes. Her ship, dominating the entire
starboard side of the defense station, hung suspended outside, spotlights
played on its hull as maintenance droids hurriedly put the finishing touches to
the repairs. Stars and starship exhausts competed for attention behind the
massive craft.

She moved to the
airlock door, guarded by two burly Gitanians armed with plasma cannons. They
moved out of her way and nodded respectfully as the door cycled open, allowing
her to move down the telescopic corridor connected to her ship.

Sammael and two
fully armored Areopagite Knights greeted her at the entrance to the ship and
bowed as she swept her way through the airlock.

“Power up the
fields and weapon systems and move the ship away from the station Sammael,” she
said over her shoulder, moving through the airlock and into the main access
corridor.

Sammael failed to
hide his look of irritation at being treated so dismissively. He quickly
smoothed his features into humble obedience as Gabriella stopped and turned to
look at him.

“Yes?” she said
impatiently.

“Of course
Princess. At once.”

“Good," she
said, turning away once more. “When you’re done with that, come to my chambers.
You interrupted some important business before and I’ll be needing you to
rectify it.”

“Yes Princess.”
She continued on into the ship, heading for her quarters. The two Areopagite
Knights grinned knowingly at each other, quickly wiping the expressions off
their faces as Sammael glared at them.

◊

Asel was bored. He
had enjoyed the game of cat and mice he’d played with the Areopagite War
Galley, but since it had moved within the protective umbrella of Gitane’s
defense network, events on board his ship had taken on a more monotonous
quality.

Big girl’s
blouse
, he thought.

He wished Felix
and his Overdrive would make an appearance soon. Everything was prepared. His
men had been briefed and sat poised at their consoles ready to do his bidding.

He shifted
restlessly in his command chair, toying with the idea of retiring to his
private quarters for a quick bout of self indulgent masturbation over some
interactive holoporn. He knew he’d regret the decision to leave all 6 wives and
13 concubines on Ardos. About to rise from his chair, a priority message came
through his AI, forwarded by the ships sensor coverage.

“A ship matching
the description of the one sought has just entered real space, approximately
37,000 kilometers from this location," it reported.

Asel smiled to
himself. His men turned to him expectantly. He gave his orders.

◊

Tynan had just
been brought his dinner and a glass of wine when the screens in front of him
and the ones scattered around the bridge started bleeping and flashing in a
proximity alert. A nanosecond later, his AI repeated the same warning along
with a tactical analysis. Sweeping his meal and wine off his lap and onto the
back of one of his bridge officers below him, Tynan stood and demanded a report
from his Captain.

The Captain’s AI
had furnished the man with an analysis of the situation.

“Its a slipmissile
Sir. Just appeared and 200 kms away.”

“Well, don’t just
stand there. Evasive maneuvers.”

“Its not moving
towards us Sir. Its heading towards the PDS.”

“What! Who fired
it?”

The Captain looked
confused. “According to its weapon signature, it was fired by us.”

It was Tynan’s
turn to look confused. “We didn’t though, did we?”

The Captain shook
his head. “No Sir."

“Well, who did?”

“I have no idea
Sir.”

“Well, find out
you idiot.”

“Yes Sir.” The man
turned and began issuing orders. He turned back towards Tynan moments later to
report.

“We’ve still no
idea where it came from Sir. The slipmissile has been targeted by the PDS.” He
paused and his eyelid closed over one eye. “The ship’s reporting we have
multiple weapon locks from the PDS. They’re preparing to fire.”

Tynan felt his
stomach sink. The Planetary Defense Station could wipe the floor with them.
“Evasive maneuvers then.”

“Already initiated
sir”

“Well then, I
guess we should prepare for impact.”

The Captain
saluted and returned to his command chair where he ordered his seat to strap
himself in. Around the bridge, the rest of the crew were doing likewise. Tynan
sat and instructed his seat for maximum impact protection. Armored and padded
straps immediately deployed around his body doing little to defeat Tynan’s
sense of impending doom.

Outside and 800km
away from the Divine Retribution, the rogue slipmissile was finally destroyed
by the PDS some 200km from impact. With the immediate threat nullified, the
huge station then turned its full attention onto the Areopagite ship. The small
war galley had ignited its main Ion drive and was hastily trying to get out of
range.

The station’s AI
calmly assessed the situation, determining that even if the attacking ship
accelerated at full power, it would take a full 2 minutes to get out of range.
If it had a human personality base, it would have sniggered – the Areopagite
Galley couldn’t escape and lacked the firepower to even inflict any damage on
the station. Within its cold mental construct, the AI paused for a moment to
consider this fact. The Areopagite’s had effectively committed suicide by
attacking the PDS in the first place. Odd.

The AI brought
more tactical analysis programs on-line. It conducted a more thorough scan of
the surrounding space, pausing to consider the location of the Watcher class 1
Trireme that was in a geosynchronous orbit some 5,000km away. Technically, the
Watcher ship was still in range of its slipmissiles. One of its tactical
subroutines suggested that the Watcher ship – given time and inside information
– could have duplicated the Areopagite’s weapon signatures. It toyed with the
idea of targeting the Watcher ship before dismissing the assessment as an
unlikely scenario.

Two seconds later,
its AI threat assessment complete, the Captain of the PDS gave the order to
fire.

Six batteries of
slipmissiles – one fifth of the PDS’ complement – launched, disappearing into
nospace before appearing again 500 kms away from the frantically accelerating
Areopagite ship. Thirty six slipmissiles immediately locked onto the ship and
began closing the gap.

Aboard the Divine
Retribution, Tynan’s AI reported this new development. His ship’s field would
hold out against 2 or 3 slipmissiles only. Against this overwhelming onslaught,
it gave him but one option for survival.

“Bollocks,” he
said. With a sigh, he instructed the ship to eject the bridge from its
superstructure, blasting the small compartment out and away from the doomed
Galley. Three seconds later, 24 slipmissiles struck the hull, immediately
destroying the ship and creating a large, rapidly expanding debris cloud.
Twelve more slipmissiles hunted amongst the cloud, targeting large fragments
and destroying them with clinical efficiency. After 3 more seconds, the five
remaining slipmissiles returned back to the PDS, reporting to the AI that the
threat had been completely destroyed.

Unseen by either
the slipmissiles or their controlling AI, the bridge of the once proud
Areopagite Galley, The
Divine Retribution
, hidden within a cloud of
debris, was rapidly moving away from the scene of destruction.

◊

Crystal fired up
the Ion drive and directed the
Hot Tucker
to make for Gitane’s nearest
PDS. The closest of Gitane’s planetary defense stations was still some
35,000kms away and the ship reported there was a large amount of activity –
including what appeared to be a debris cloud – between it and the station.

Gitane’s
communication network informed the
Hot Tucker
that due to the
disturbance, no ship would be granted access to the planet’s surface.

Crystal, in the
command chair previously occupied by Tarquin, considered her options. She
turned towards Ram Terry who was perched in Logan’s chair next to her. Tarquin
and Logan lay unconscious on the floor beneath them. The others – including
Felix – were still unconscious in the cargo bay. The transition between the
centre of the galaxy and Gitane had been smooth and instantaneous, albeit
slightly painful. Felix had made no mistakes this time – assembling and
programming the Overdrive correctly for their return to the human occupied part
of the galaxy.

“Suggestions, your
Raminess?”

Ram Terry looked
thoughtful. “This is technically an emergency. I believe our life support is
due to run out?." He looked at Crystal who nodded.

“Then I suggest we
make for one of those defense stations. I’m sure they wouldn’t fire on an
unarmed ship. Besides,” he added, “The Church of the Holy Lamb has some
influence on Gitane.”

Crystal nodded
again and fired instructions into the
Hot Tucker’s
AI. “I’m sure you’re
right your Raminess, but these Gitanians have a reputation for shooting first
and asking questions from the charred remains.”

As the ship made its
slow way towards the PDS, the
Hot Tucker’s
slow and ancient AI took some
time identifying a ship heading to intercept them, occupied as it was trying to
fly the ship and maintain the failing life support and artificial gravity.
Overtaxed, it finally warned Crystal when the Watcher Class 1 Trireme, the
Sweet
Bejesus
, was only 15,000kms away. The PDS was still 20 minutes away. The
ship reported that it would be able to maintain life support for only another
10 minutes. Given the lack of options, Crystal directed the Hot Tucker to make
for the debris cloud that was floating between them and the PDS.

Her AI reported an
incoming message. Closing her eyelid, the smirking face of Asel, the Watcher
Prince, appeared before her.