Chapter 7
I wasn't surprised that the officers knew my name, they would have got that through scuttlebutt, but I wanted to know a little more about them.
"Oh, sorry" said the girl "I'm Lady Isabelle von Krueitz, I'm a gunnery Sub-Lieutenant." She was 19 or so, medium height, athletic build, with somewhat tanned skin, short fair hair and blue eyes. The only thing stopping her from looking like a fashion model was her classical nose, which had been broken sometime previously. With the ease and availability of current cosmetic surgery, I wondered if she'd kept the nose to mark out her uniqueness. "The furry gentleman next to me is Ingghe Uniksae an engineering Lieutenant" continued Lady Isabelle. He was young, tall for a Vargr, about average height for a human; he had a lean muscular build, pale, almost cream fur and with a touch of Gvegh accent in his speech. His tail wagged.
"I" said a uniformed officer, pulling a monocle out of a pocket, polishing it and popping it into his eye "have the dubious honour of introducing myself as Lt. Khuli Ikarsi, an ornament to the Command branch of His Imperial Majesty's Glorious Navy; or is that His Glorious Majesty's Imperial Navy. I never can remember."
"This buffoon" said Lady Isabelle amicably, "is an Authenticist who has chosen to model himself on a Terran literary character called Bertie Wooster. When he dresses up he actually looks rather dapper. The monocle is an affectation, it's optically flat; he has perfect eyesight."
"Isabelle, you're being a bit of a bounder" said Lt. Ikarsi, "givin' away my trade secrets doncherno." The Lieutenant was young, tall, slim, dark haired and fair skinned, the hair being slicked back over his head giving him a most unusual look. There were fine laughter lines beside his eyes. Lady Isabelle then turned to a well-built, thickset, very dark skinned older man who had sat quietly, listening intently to my story.
"This is Lt. John Smith" Lady Isabelle began, "no, really, that's his name" she must have seen the doubt in my expression. "He's in Engineering too" continued Lady Isabelle, "and what he doesn't know about gravitics isn't worth knowing."
I looked at Lt. Smith with new respect; it seemed that he must have made the difficult leap from a warranted Petty Officer enlisted man to holding an Imperial Commission as a Lieutenant. One of the two men who had been pretending to play chess while listening to my story, now spoke up.
"If you spad-heads will keep quiet, perhaps we can concentrate better on our game."
Lady Isabelle continued, not in the least abashed, "The snippy gentleman who just so rudely addressed us" her sunny smile took any sting out of this comment, "is Sub-Lt. Piotr Ganushiim of the Command branch and his silent partner is Sub-Lt. Ernesto Singh who is, Emperor Strephon preserve us, of the Flight branch who steer the Castro as well as pilot any ships boats. Though what the poor old girl has done to deserve being flung about by that brute escapes me."
Sub-Lt. Singh retorted by sticking his tongue out, making him look absurdly young. They were all, apart from Lt. Smith, so very, very young. About as young as my children would have been, had I had any. I had been married so I wasn't the loner scout of popular fiction. I had wanted children, she hadn't, our respective careers meant we didn't see a lot of each other so we went our separate ways; not a good thought to dwell on.
"Excuse me; spad-head?" I addressed the query to the group I was sitting with, leaving the chess players to continue their game.
"Navy slang, old boy" drawled Lt. Ikarsi, "Spad is the colloquial name given to a root vegetable discovered on one of the early interstellar expeditions from Vland. It's got a proper Vilani name of course but no-one can be bothered to remember it. It can be prepared in numerous ways or even eaten raw, unlike the flora and fauna of Vland. However it's prepared though it tastes of bland nothingness. Inevitably the Vilani bureaucracy made it a staple food of their navy. Immutable tradition has kept it there. Don't the scouts have to eat it then?"
"No, I'm very glad to say we don’t" I responded, "Although if anyone suggested it I can imagine enraged scouts threatening to eat the person responsible. If that's what I think it is, the only use scouts have for it is to brew hootch out of it."
I reckoned that the 'spad root' of the navy was the scouts 'spade root' due to its shape when raw. It was a useful source of carbohydrates and it was normally issued dried and ground as flour which stores well on long scout voyages. We always added strong flavourings to it. I wondered why the navy didn't.
The mess door opened and in walked Flag Lt. The Honourable Vincent Igadushta. Oh no, what does he want now? The Lieutenant nodded to the other officers, rather uncomfortably I thought and went to the small bar. I suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for Lt. Igadushta, although he spent most of his time with command and Flag officers, he wasn't one himself, and he wasn't really one of the crew either. He must be a very lonely young man. I turned to the Lieutenant who had got his drink from the robo-tender and was nursing his glass gazing into the middle distance. "Join us Lieutenant" I made it a statement not a question. My companions gave me looks indicating various degrees of disapprobation as Lt. Igadushta joined us.
"I am sure that we will find your scout expertise very useful in the coming mission." Said Lt. Igadushta, looking rather uncomfortable in our company.
"I hope not" growled Lt. Uniksae, "as that is likely to mean that the old Castro has misjumped and we're in the middle of the Great Rift!" Lt. Igadushta now looked even more uncomfortable. "Mr. Beecher" the Vargr Lieutenant continued, turning to me, "have you ever been in a naval battle?" The other young officers looked embarrassed but relieved that someone had asked the question that they all wanted to. The question that they really meant was 'how does one cope with being in a battle'.
"None of you have?" I asked
"I have" replied Lt. Smith "but not as an officer." No-one else spoke.
"I was in quite a few during the war" I said "the difficult part is looking calm during the waiting; once the firing starts you're usually far too busy to be scared."
"Were you scared sir?" asked Lady Isabelle
"Terrified, every time" I replied "and you needn't call me sir. You're always terrified, but it does get easier to deal with it." For all his apparent self-assurance, Lt. Igadushta was hanging on my words as much as any of the other young officers.
Chapter 8
We were all watching the clock. The clock that counted down the time to estimated exit from jump-space. Estimated. That word hung in all our minds. We all knew that 90% of all jumps finish within about two hours of estimated time either way. The figures go up until only a minute fraction of all jumps last longer than about 16 hours either way. Then there are the strange ones; the ones like Belerophon. She had jumped from Regina on a routine three parsec jump to Roup. By the Imperial calendar she exited jump-space nine days later, much longer than the usual seven; but the ship that came out of jump was a decaying hulk. Forensic tests on the remains of the ship and the bones of her crew showed that, for them, more than four thousand years had passed. The cause of this tragedy was never determined; so we watched the clock, and waited.
I was doing my waiting on the Flag Bridge with Admiral Chang and Flag Lt. Igadushta. All Imperial Navy ships exit jump-space on alert status so we were all strapped into our stations and wearing pressure suits. One view screen displayed the Bridge where Captain DuToit and his bridge crew were at their stations; another displayed the formless grey nothingness of jump-space. The clock display ticked down towards zero; reached it and continued. Now marking the time after estimated time of jump. We waited.
"Captain" said one of the bridge crew, "electro-magnetic surge detected ahead."
"Confirmed, and increasing" said another. We all breathed a silent sigh of relief; this was the sign of immanent emergence from jump-space.
"All hands, this is the Captain; stand-by for emergence." Captain DuToit announced over the intercom. To an outside observer, a blue glow would appear, expanding to a bright blue patch of sky roughly the size and shape of our ship. Then the ship would appear, illuminated by the glowing blue lines of the energised jump-grid, which would gradually fade away. Our view screen showed a bright patch, growing until it covered the whole screen, then as this faded, we saw blackness . . . . speckled with distant stars.
"James" the Admiral said tersely, "what can you tell about the system?" I waited a moment before replying, letting the data from the sensors build up and project the result as a hologram in front of us. Admiral Chang had decided to arrive towards the zenith¹ of the unknown system rather than its nadir², by tossing a coin. He did this as he said "If anyone knows the way I think and tries to predict where we're coming on the basis of that, well, they're out of luck."
Most ships jump to the plane of the ecliptic³ outside the 100 diameter limit of the target planet, making sure that they are also 100 diameters away from the local sun. We were jumping away from that in the hope that the pirates would be looking at the plane of the ecliptic for intruders, not elsewhere.
"Densitometer and infra-red reading coming in" I said, "There's the brown dwarf, 0.02 standard solar masses, absolutely classic. The surface temperature is about 500ºK, that means there's methane there and probably water vapour, so there should be ices on the planets. Speaking of those, there looks to be four and the nearest will probably be tidally locked. Admiral, my advice stands; I believe the base will be on the closest planet."
"Thank you, Mr. Beecher" Admiral Chang replied formally, "Captain DuToit, has the rest of the squadron arrived?"
"Yes Admiral" replied the Captain, "the squadron jump was successful. The Springer and the Anger arrived within minutes of us."
"Very well Captain DuToit" said the Admiral, "lead the squadron towards the innermost planet, best acceleration if you please."
"Aye, aye sir. At best acceleration our ETA is forty two minutes." The captain then turned to give orders to the bridge crew.
As Admiral Chang brooded on the situation in the holo-display Lt. Igadushta spoke to me on a private intercom channel. "Beecher, what happens if you're wrong about which planet the pirate base is on?"
"I'll probably be dismissed the service and may even end up in a cell" I replied.
"Oh." Lt. Igadushta paused for a while and then asked, "How will we be able to tell if the ships are on the innermost planet?"
"Heat" I replied shortly, "we know that the pirates land their ships as they want to conceal from their men, the fact that their base is orbiting a brown dwarf. They'll need to keep the ships at a reasonable temperature for the electronics and other systems. Against the cold background of the planet's dark side they'll stick out like sore thumbs."
"Won't we stand out as hot against the space background?" queried the Lieutenant.
"Yes, unfortunately. Whether or not we're spotted depends on how good a watch the pirates are keeping" I said, "the Admiral is gambling that in a supposedly secret base the watch won't be very good." Lt. Igadushta nodded and subsided into silence; waiting.
oOoOo
My stomach had knotted and I felt nauseous as we waited. When you're waiting time always seems to stretch but it had been about twenty minutes when a bridge crewman said "Twelve hotspots detected on innermost planet sir. One them is fuzzy, the rest point sources."
"Why is one fuzzy?" asked Lt. Igadushta on intercom.
"One will be the base" I replied "remember the prisoners said that it's buried underground. Unless the pirates have picked up more ships, that means only one of them isn't here. Let's hope it's not the flagship." Any remark the Lieutenant had been contemplating was interrupted by another bridge crewman saying that several search radars had been activated on the planet's surface. The pirates had spotted us. Lt. Igadushta swore, Admiral Chang remained silent.
"It's not over yet Lieutenant" I said, "the pirates won't have been running their power plants at full to save fuel and wear and tear. It takes time to ramp up to full power although a highly trained crew can take shortcuts.
A/N¹ The zenith is roughly 'above' a solar system.
A/N² The nadir is roughly 'below' a solar system.
A/N³ Technically the plane of the ecliptic is the plane in which the Earth rotates about the sun. In the Third Imperium, and the earlier Vilani Imperium, the ecliptic is the plane in which the major world of a system rotates around its star. It is this plane which zenith and nadir are 'above' and 'below'.
Chapter 9
Lt. Igadushta and I watched the holo-display silently, leaving Admiral Chang to his thoughts. We could see that the eleven point heat sources were growing brighter when one suddenly flared up then grew dimmer. "What's happened?" queried the Lieutenant. The Admiral answered him.
"That Mr. Igadushta, is one of the pirate ships' power plants exploding as they tried, unsuccessfully, to emulate the skill and training of Imperial Naval personnel in emergency reactor operations. Or of scout personnel also of course" he added with a quick nod to me.
"Admiral, we will be in extreme weapon range in five minutes" Captain DuToit said in a calm voice.
"Thank you Captain" replied the Admiral, "you may fire when ready. Mr. Igadushta, instruct Springer and Anger to remain in our shadow, the pirates may think we're alone. If the pirate fleet remains together after they lift-off Springer and Anger are to watch our stern, firing on targets of opportunity. If the fleet scatters they are to act at discretion, but they are not to tackle the pirate flagship singly."
"Aye, aye Sir" said Lt. Igadushta who bent to his communication panel.
My job was over now and I felt superfluous as I watched the battle on the screens. Despite what most holo-vids show a space battle isn't visually impressive. Most modern weapon systems use directed energy beams which aren't visible in space; missiles are coloured black and you can only see their drive flares from astern. Fleet actions take place at such a range that when an enemy ship takes a hit it's only discernable on instruments.
I occupied myself by estimating when the pirate fleet would try to jump. They had now lifted-off as a group and were keeping together for the moment. For a safe jump the pirates had to have a very small amount of local gravity. Trying to jump inside ten diameters from an object was basically suicide; a catastrophic misjump with only a pile of debris emerging at the finish being almost a certainty. The odds on surviving grew progressively better as the distance from a gravity well increased; 100 diameters being considered a 'safe jump distance' which wouldn't put up your insurance premiums. The planet housing the pirate base was 8,000 km in diameter, getting 80,000 km away wouldn't be too much of a problem. The brown dwarf however was about 140,000 km in diameter and the base planet orbited at 1.1 million km from it. The pirates had at least 300,000 km to go to get out of the brown dwarf's lethal influence. We had a further distance to cover in order to come up to them than they had to travel to be safe to jump, but we had had a running start which the pirates didn't. It would be close. The Castro had started firing now and the pirates were replying; both sides were hoping for a hit that would slow down their opponents. The pirates would stand a better chance of some escaping by scattering, but they were still keeping together. "Why don't they scatter?" I hadn't meant to vocalise but Admiral Chang had obviously heard me.
"They don't scatter, James" the Admiral said, "because their leader is an utterly callous man. By staying together he reduces the chance of any weapon being targeted on his ship and thus maximises his chances of escape."
"The other pirate leaders aren't stupid, they must realise this" I said, "what's keeping them from scattering?"
"The Flayer – and what a ridiculous title that is" remarked Admiral Chang, "- may have threatened to open fire on his confederates, he may have installed remote controlled explosives on their ships or ensured their compliance by some twisted method I can't even envisage James. I've dealt with pirates many times; they are scum."
We had been hit many times by lasers, but the armour of the old Castro was still thick and little damage was done. Our fire-control was obsolete and not in good condition but we had far more laser turrets than the pirates and they began to take damage. Fire from the pirates slackened for a short time although they must have realised that we had no spinal mount as such would have vaporised their ships long since. Indeed the Castro was so old they may have had no idea what class of ship she was.
As the range between us continued to reduce I saw the displays come alive with incoming traces; the pirates had launched a swarm of missiles at us, hoping to overwhelm our defences and cause sufficient damage for them to escape. My heart sank as I saw from the designations on the display that all the missiles had nuclear warheads. If Castro's elderly damping field failed the ship would be crippled and the casualties enormous.
Some missiles were destroyed by hastily retargeted lasers but most still came on. As they hit there were local explosions but no ship-wracking nuclear detonations. The old damper field had done its job and prevented chain reactions in the warheads. Now we were close enough for the fire-control systems to direct more powerful weapons. Streams of charged particles moving at just under light-speed hit the pirate ships and did terrible damage to their computers and electronic systems. The pirates' formation broke apart as ships veered and slowed at random; Springer and Anger closed in on vulnerable targets and wreaked havoc.
The range was such that instead of symbols the view-screens were showing the pirate ships themselves. My gaze was fixed on the Vargr-made pirate flagship and I saw glowing blue lines suddenly appear on her hull, the pirate leader was making a desperate attempt to jump before he had escaped the brown dwarf's grip. A yellow explosion blossomed just as the glow was at its height, whether caused by the ship's own overloaded systems or a hit by one of our weapons was uncertain. The pirate flagship disappeared into jump-space in the midst of a lurid blue and yellow glow.
oOoOo
And that really is it. The rest of the pirate ships were destroyed or captured; the base surrendered without a struggle; the missing twelfth pirate ship, a Vargr-designed freighter, turned up a few days later and was easily captured. Our casualties were light and I was pleased to meet once again in the wardroom, all of the junior officers I had met before. There was much rejoicing and as I'd taken the precaution of filling my suit's water bottle with scotch, a good time was had by all.
oOoOo
Later, on our return jump to Deneb we got to discussing the whole thing. The pirate fleet's very success worked against them; the more ships they plundered, the more powerful people they annoyed and the more resources utilised against them. Really their defeat was a matter of time. Even if the pirate leader survived, a most unlikely event, his reign of fear was over. Once his secret base was discovered his ace-in-the-hole was gone. Unfortunately none of the prisoners knew if pirate's rutter was merely a combination of several extant rutters or something more. All of the human captains committed suicide so we never found out if them all being Vilani was significant or not.
oOoOo
As I entered my quarters and closed the door, my vid-com screen lit up with Bwephulp's face. "Mr. Beecher" she said, "automatic data correlation led to the capture of the serial-killer the Usani strangler. He had travelled to Maelstrom and his identical modus operandus was picked up by the computers. I have arranged a medical examination at 10:00 tomorrow to determine if you are still in good health after your exertions. It's good to see you back."
"It's good to be back Bwephulp."
Fin.
