Wanderer 3: Tainted Universe (20 page)

Jess realised the danger of that thinking.  The battleships would have the longest range, and so would remain a danger for almost all of those thirteen seconds.  A single volley from just one of the battleships would be enough to destroy the
Wanderer
.  They weren’t safe until they were completely clear.

Even then, would they really be safe?  There could be stealth fighters out there, closing in and waiting for the
Wanderer
’s evasive manoeuvres to finish.  Jess knew first hand just how much of a punch those ships packed.

And maybe the real threat was something else.  Something he hadn’t encountered before.  Or something like the mass of tiny objects that had been scattered near Daspal — one of the Empire’s weapons development systems.  Jess hadn’t dared take the
Wanderer
out through that field so he still had no idea what it was or how much damage it could do to the
Wanderer
.  He scoured space ahead, trying to spot any hint of danger.  Finding nothing just put him more on edge, convinced him that he was missing something deadly.

You don’t need to worry about the troopers
, Ali sent. 
They have their hands full just trying to survive your flying.

Jess could sense her amusement through the link.  She sent a burst of video showing the troopers flying around on short lengths of cables that they had managed to attach to the floor.  She was right — there was nothing to worry about there.

Thirty seconds.  Still no reaction.  Still no sign of a trap closing.  Thirty-two… thirty-four… thirty-six… thirty-eight.  Jess started to be convinced that whatever was going to happen wouldn’t involve the fleet.  Even the battleships would struggle to score a clean hit at this range, with the
Wanderer
making such aggressive course changes.  Forty seconds.  Forty-one.  Forty-two.  Forty-three.

Forty-four.  They should be safe from the fleet.  Jess didn’t let up on the manoeuvres.  The others remained quiet, staring at the displays in puzzlement.  The seconds kept ticking away for Dash and Sal, while for Jess they crawled past slowly.  When they reached a minute he eased back on the manoeuvres, allowing the
Wanderer
to pull away from the fleet more quickly.

Jess allowed his mind to slow towards a more normal speed as he slumped in the pilot’s seat fighting fatigue.  Fighting would have been less tiring than the constant waiting.

“I don’t understand,” he said.  “Why didn’t they attack?”

“
I don’t know,” Dash said.  “But it’s damn odd.  I can understand the first layer’s ships not chasing us, but we were well within range of a large chunk of this fleet and they just sat there.”

“
Could they be damaged?” Sal asked.  “Or disabled?”

“
I don’t think so,” Jess said.  “They were reading as being fully operational.  There was comm traffic between them too, though the
Wanderer
couldn’t break the encryption.”

“
So they chose not to attack,” Dash said.  “I don’t know why.”

“
I thought there might be stealth ships out there, closing in or following us.  Maybe they were afraid of hitting them.”

“
Maybe, but why not just drop their stealth so the large ships could destroy us?”

Jess had no answer.  Nor did the others.  Jess kept the
Wanderer
pulling random manoeuvres as they moved further and further from the fleet.  All he knew for sure was that there must be a very good reason for the fleet not attacking, and that it didn’t bode well for the
Wanderer
.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Greenseed Station

“Incoming ship.”

Marsh took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.  He’d resorted to medical drugs to keep himself sharp.  He was awake but twitchy and short-tempered.

He glanced around the operations room.  Fewer seats had occupants than normal.  Only critical functions were being covered.  Twenty guards were posted throughout the room, ready to deal with any further mutiny.  Marsh didn’t like having to deploy them, but he couldn’t risk anyone else following Alisha’s path.  The station could only survive if everyone pulled together.

Guards had been deployed at other key locations throughout the station.  So far the population of Greenseed had accepted their presence.  Marsh hoped that continued.  Some of those in the Operations Room hadn’t been so accepting.  They had been removed and replaced by officers more willing to work for the good of the station.

“Sir… the incoming ship,” Davies prompted Marsh.

Marsh cursed inwardly.  The drugs gave him the ability to focus sharply on one thing at a time but tended to make his mind wander.  If he wasn't careful he ended up focusing sharply on something completely irrelevant.  He checked the displays.  The incoming ship was a standard bulk freighter.  The
Eclipse
.

“
Comms, open a channel,” Marsh ordered.

“
Aye sir.  Channel open.”

“
Eclipse
, this is commander Marsh of Greenseed station.  If you are here to collect food then please hold position and provide details of your spare cargo space.  If not please turn and leave immediately.  Greenseed station and space around it is a no go area.  Failure to observe the exclusion will result in your destruction.  I am transmitting details now.”

The reply was full of static.  “Greenseed… of the
Eclipse
.  We… heavy damage.  Power… to slow but limited… allow… leeway.”

Marsh checked his readouts in more detail.  The
Eclipse
’s hull was scored by long gashes and the thrusters were operating well below normal efficiency.

Marsh was aware of everyone watching him.  The
Eclipse
was starting to slow, but she was still going to cross into the exclusion zone Marsh had defined.

He knew many of his staff were thinking he should give the damaged ship some leeway.  That he should let it come to a stop then move back out of the exclusion zone.  He wouldn’t do it.  If he started to give way this time then there would always be another reason to flex the rules just that little bit further.  Eventually that path would lead to Greenseed's destruction.  Or worse.

“
Eclipse
,” he transmitted.  “I suggest you boost power to your engines.  Entering the exclusion area will result in your immediate destruction.  Greenseed out.”

Marsh cut the communication channel.  Almost immediately his comms officer spoke out.

“Incoming transmission from the
Eclipse
, Commander.”

“
Ignore it,” replied Marsh.  “They know what they have to do.  If they stop in time then we will speak to them further.”

“
Aye sir.”

He didn’t sound happy.  Marsh spotted several others preparing to speak up.  Several of the guards shifted position, reminding the room of their presence.  Suddenly everyone was busy with their own work again.

Marsh studied his displays.  The
Eclipse
poured more power into her thrusters but it wasn’t going to be enough.  Then one of the two main thrusters flared and died.  There was no hope of the ship stopping in time now, or anywhere near in time.

Marsh gave it thirty seconds, then he checked the numbers.  Even if the thruster was restarted there was no way the ship could stop in time.  In one minute at most it would reach the exclusion zone.

“Davies, prepare to fire.”

“
Aye sir.  Locked on.”

The
Eclipse
was still well out of range for the station’s weapons.  Marsh had decided that wasn’t a safe enough margin and had ordered the creation of additional free-floating weapons which were deployed in a large defensive sphere surrounding the station.

Marsh watched for a few more seconds, then realised waiting for the deadline was cruel.  Those on the ship knew they would be killed when it crossed the boundary, unless he relented.  He knew he wouldn’t.

“Davies, destroy that ship.”

“
Sir?  Now?”

Marsh turned to stare at Davies.  He’d thought Davies dependable.  Was he wrong?  Was Davies too starting to turn against him?

No.  Of course not.  Davies was just confused.  He obviously hadn’t expected the order.

“
They can’t stop or turn in time.  Dragging this out is just cruel.”

Understanding dawned on Davies face.

“Aye sir,” he said.  “Firing now.”

Marsh watched impassively as the
Eclipse
was targeted by several different weapons platforms.  Its shields held out for a few seconds before being overwhelmed.

The ship didn’t die quickly though.  Someone had managed to start the engines shutting down so there wasn’t an explosive, and fast, end to the ship.  Instead the defensive weaponry slowly chewed its way through the ship’s superstructure.

Marsh glanced around the room.  Most of his staff had their heads down, appearing to work hard.  A few stared at displays showing the dying ship.  Marsh noted those down.  They were likely to cause problems in the future.

The comms officer looked particularly pale.  Punching in a few commands Marsh confirmed his suspicion.  The officer had kept a link open to the
Eclipse
.  He’d been listening in as the ship died.  Marsh thought for a moment, then made up his mind.

“
Comms, you don’t look well.  Get someone to cover and go see the doctor.”

“
Aye sir.”

The man’s voice wavered.  One of the other officers stepped up to relieve him and he clambered to his feet.  He swayed slightly as he started to walk.  Marsh signalled to one of the guards.

“Help him to the doctor.  He doesn’t look like he’ll make it himself.”

The guard saluted and moved to help the departing officer, steadying him and guiding him out of the room.  As the door closed behind them Marsh sent a quick message to the guards.  The officer would be excluded from duty for medical reasons going forwards.  He’d shown himself to be too weak.  Marsh knew that only the strongest could keep the station safe now.  He just wished there were more of them.

*****

Clay sat in the cockpit of his fighter, waiting for the
Purple Cloud
to drop out of jump space.  He was impatient to get going.  The day before he’d been nursing the mother of all hangovers.  Now he was itching to be flying again.

Not that he was over Leo’s death.  Far from it.  The bottle of whiskey had helped numb the pain for a while but it wasn’t the answer.  It didn’t matter that he’d done the right thing, that he’d do the same again.  However he looked at it he was responsible for what happened to Leo.

He’d spent the previous day feeling trapped.  All he wanted to do was get out into the silence of space, to see the velvety darkness, to feel his fighter responding to every twitch of his hand.  Maybe then he could start to come to terms with what had happened.

Sitting in the cockpit waiting actually made things worse.  That surprised him.  He’d thought he was already at rock bottom.  Apparently not.  It didn’t help that he was crammed in awkwardly.  At six-foot four he was much taller than the ‘ideal’ pilot.  He always felt the same while waiting to launch.  The cockpit felt cramped.  Things seemed to stick into him.  He wouldn’t change it for the world though.  In fact he’d received several offers to pilot larger ships with more space.  He always refused.  Nothing could prise him away from flying fighters.

He knew that as soon as he launched all the negative feelings would evaporate.  The cockpit would no longer feel constricting.  Once he launched he would
become
the ship.  All awareness of his body would fade away.  That’s what made him such a damn good pilot.  That was why he still flew combat missions when he was several inches over the official maximum height for a fighter.

That and the continuing threats the Empire now faced.  It wasn’t the time to turn down exceptional pilots, even if they had to be shoehorned into the cockpit.

A flashing indicator drew Clay’s attention.  They were leaving jump space!  Moments later he received his launch clearance.  Even as he registered it he was shoved back as his fighter launched.  It hit space already travelling at a good speed.

He lit off the thrusters and curved away from the
Purple Cloud
.  The course was his own, chosen at random to make it harder for any enemy to intercept him during the launch.  As he swung away he studied the tactical display.  No immediate threats, but a significant fleet not too far away.  It registered as Imperial but that meant nothing these days.  Until the fleet was validated by the Commandant General Clay would treat it as potentially hostile.

Having confirmed the tactical situation Clay took a few moments to revel in the feeling of flight.  Being stuck inside the
Purple Cloud
for a day had weighed heavily on him.  Now that weight had evaporated.  He rolled the fighter several times, then swung it round in a sharp curve.  Grinning fiercely he hit the command to communicate with Papa-Five.

“
I love this Leo.  Don’t ever let them ground me again…”

He stopped talking as the unavailable tone cut through his thoughts.  Leo was gone.  Leo was gone and it was his fault.  Anger replaced the euphoria of flight.  He hoped the nearby fleet turned out to be hostile.  He wanted to fight.  He wanted to kill.  Maybe he wanted to die.  He wasn’t sure.

“All fighters, the nearby fleet has been certified clean by the commandant general.  Please acknowledge.”

Confirmations rang out from each of the fighters.  When Clay’s turn came he knew his voice sounded hollow.  He couldn’t help it.  All he wanted was a chance to vent his pain on something.

Warnings flashed across his displays as another ship punched its way out of jump space.  For a moment Marsh felt his heartbeat raise at the possibility of combat.  Then he realised it was another Imperial ship — a frigate this time.  He stayed alert but it was soon confirmed to be clean.

Over the next few minutes three more ships arrived, each confirmed as clean.  Marsh found his attention slipping.  His thoughts kept returning to Leo.  To the fateful battle of two days before.

Another ship dropped into real space.  A corvette this time.  Closer to the
Purple Cloud
than was ideal, but that often happened when ships assembled at a pre-agreed location.

The corvette launched its own fighters, as each ship before had, and started to build speed.  Marsh waited for the confirmation that this was yet another clean ship.  It didn’t come.  Instead an urgent alert blasted over the comms.

“New arrival is not responding to the commandant general.  Treat as hostile and tainted.  Repeat, treat as hostile and tainted.”

Marsh cursed, pushing his fighter up to full speed even as he turned towards the fight.  The newcomer had launched more ships than was normal, and they weren’t all standard fighters.  He studied the display.

It wasn’t good.  The rogue corvette and its accompanying ships were far closer to the
Purple Cloud
than any of the other Imperial forces.  Clay and the other pilots would need to fight a holding action.

Clay grinned fiercely.  This was exactly what he wanted.  The chance to prove himself in battle.  He accelerated towards the closest enemy fighters.

Within seconds he was engaging the first two, both lightnings.  On paper they had Clay outnumbered.  Clay hammered the first, overwhelming its shields and crippling the ship, while keeping his own ship skipping around enough to avoid almost all the incoming fire.  There was only time to land a few shots on the second fighter before he streaked past it.

The enemy corvette was accelerating towards the
Purple Cloud
, lashing out with all its weaponry.  The two large ships had started almost facing each other.  With no time to turn away the
Purple Cloud
could only respond by accelerating towards the enemy.

While the two corvettes had nowhere near the closing speed Clay had with the enemy fighters it was still an awe-inspiring sight, and one that Clay had rarely seen.  He couldn’t shake the impression they would collide head on, even though he knew automated systems in both ships would prevent that from ever happening.

Clay engaged another rogue fighter.  He managed to pummel its shields but couldn’t do any real damage before they flashed past each other.  This time he pulled his ship in a tight curve, swinging back and trying to finish the job.  His target was swinging around too, apparently trying to get the drop on Clay.  Clay grinned and tightened his curve, grunting as the acceleration jammed him into his seat.