Wing Commander Action Stations Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight
Book	Wing Commander Action Stations
Parts	1
Previous	Chapter Seven
Next	Chapter Nine

Text

GAR'S EMPORIUM

CONFEDERATION DATE 2634.218

"We've been in this damn place for over a month," Vance growled. "Just how much longer is this crap gonna take?"

Geoff stared blearily into his mug. He wasn't even sure what he was consuming any more. What was really troubling to him was that there was something about The Pit, as the locals called it, that was starting to grow on him. Maybe, after the all the years of harsh discipline, there was something inside stirring to life in a place where he didn't have to take any orders. Turner had cut them loose after the first couple of days, and Geoff now found it amusing that Vance had actually clung to his side, though perhaps Vance might have seen it the other way around.

"It's almost like the learning curve on a fighter," Vance had explained, as if he was a seasoned veteran of places like Gar's. "Get through your first three missions and your chances of survival skyrocket. The trick is, just getting through those first three."

Their second day out on their own, the first bar fight had occurred, a Cat and a Jarma lizard deciding that Vance's wallet was worth lifting. The Cat was now minus a hand, thanks to Geoff's shooting. As for the lizard, well, there were rumors that Haggans found the Jarma to be a particular delicacy and neither Vance nor Geoff objected when a Haggan slithered up and offered them fifty credits for the body.

Blowing the hand off the Cat just before it nailed Vance had secured a grudging friendship, though Vance kept claiming that once a reciprocal save had been pulled off things would get back to normal.

Geoff continued to act as though he was staring into his drink as a Cat settled down on the stool next to him. He watched cautiously from the corner of his eye for, after all, Stumpie, as they now called him, might have friends willing to do a vengeance job. This one looked new, however. There was a slight bristling to the Cat's mane; the thing was nervous and hyperalert.

The thing that was strange was that he and the Cat were, in the legal sense, enemies. Word of the declaration of war had reached The Pit and, for the first few hours, it had seemed as if fighting would break out. But then the master of The Pit had made a rare public announcement, pointing out that there was no sense in tearing each other apart when profit could be made. Now the war was viewed almost as a joke.

Geoff eyed the Cat cautiously, then decided to venture an opening.

"First time here?" Geoff asked casually, hoping the Cat understood the pidgin dialect of space, a mix of English standard and Imperial standard which was the language of trade on the frontier.

The Cat snarled, a standard response when a human first spoke to them. Geoff already knew to give a toothy grin in response to show he was not afraid, but not to open his jaw, which was a signal for a fight.

"Many times here," the Cat responded.

Geoff could tell he was lying. The thing kept looking back and forth as if soaking it all in for the first time.

Geoff motioned for the barkeep to set up a drink for his new neighbor and the Cat looked over at him in surprise.

"To the spilled blood of our enemies," Geoff announced, raising his mug in salute.

"We might be speaking of your blood," the Cat replied as he took a tentative sip of the drink, grimaced, and then forced the rest of it down. Geoff motioned for a second.

He didn't even want to think about how much money he had spent buying drinks. In fact, word seemed to have gotten around The Pit so that, whenever he walked in, there was always at least one pathetic drunk whining at him for 'a taste of juice.'

Turner's level of action was something he didn't even want to try. The old prof was often in the Lotus Holes and had even wandered into some of the brothels. He claimed to be playing it straight, but what he was doing in the name of the service was something Vance speculated on in loving detail.

The question was, had they accomplished anything useful while spending thousands of what he assumed was Confed Intel money? There were individual pieces enough of something that didn't seem right. The number of ships slipping through from Cat territory had slowed to a trickle, creating a hell of a lot of tension in The Pit. With few Cats coming in, the price of their goods had skyrocketed, while there was now a glut on goods coming from within Confederation and frontier worlds. Turner pointed out that this information alone might have some significance, but the news that all commerce between the worlds of the Empire was almost at a standstill for lack of shipping was something that set off alarms for Turner. The problem, though, was that in and of itself there was still no direct documented evidence that they could take back to Banbridge.

He continued to watch the Cat he was buying for. The bristling of the mane was down slightly. "Anything interesting to trade?" Geoff asked.

"Don't know, just crew," the Cat replied.

"We have some Gotherian crystal."

The Cat looked over at him.

"Access port seventy-one if you'd like to see. Tell my friend Hans I sent you and he'll give you a break."

"You with Phantom?"

Geoff did not let his gaze flicker. How did the Cat know the original name of the ship?

"No, the Lazarus."

The Cat growled with amusement.

"I saw your ship as we docked. Seen it before. Changing wing design and armor, it is still the same."

"Sorry friend, I think you've got the wrong ship." Geoff quietly nudged Vance with his knee to alert him that there might be trouble.

"Phantom ship that destroy frigate."

"I heard about that," Vance interrupted, moving his chair away from the bar and dragging it to Geoff's side while motioning for the keeper to set up yet another drink. "Some fight, I heard. Anyhow, the one guy that got away wound up getting ventilated back at the Hell Hole. Some folks didn't like him back there."

The Cat looked at him with a mocking gaze.

"You say you have Gotherian glass and crystals?"

"The best," Vance interjected.

"Let's see."

The Cat quickly downed his third drink and stepped away from me bar. Geoff set out to lead the way, letting Vance fall in behind the Cat to cover his back. They stepped out into the swirling confusion of the main corridor, swerving around a body sprawled on the grating. After weeks in this place, Geoff found that he was getting used to it all. As he walked down the corridor, right hand in his pocket, lightly wrapped around the grip of his blaster, he carefully surveyed those walking past. Hans had tipped them off that he was convinced that a Sarn clan headhunter had recently come in on a huge three-engine smuggler out of the Jab system. At least, that was the tip-off offered by another trader from the Landreich who was docked near them.

Weaving his way around the stinking, heaving crowd, he at last reached the side corridor leading into their docking bay. Hans was leaning against the door, Turner by his side, a sample of their ornate glasswork spread out on a small table.

The Cat walked up and quickly scanned the table, picking up one of the heavy ornaments, which for some strange reason the Cats found fascinating, and casually held it up so it could catch and reflect the dim light.

Geoff could see he was not really looking at the glass, but instead was gazing intently at Turner. Turner calmly returned the look.

"Price?"

"Fifty credits for what you're holding," Turner replied.

The Cat nodded and, putting down the glass, he fished in his left pocket for a twenty-five-credit piece, pulled it out and slapped it on the table. Hans was about to raise an objection but then the Cat reached into his right trouser pocket and produced another twenty-five-credit coin, but this time he handed it straight to Turner.

Curious, Turner accepted the coin. The Cat picked up the glass and continued to stare at Turner.

"You will find the payment fair, Commander," the Cat said softly. He quickly turned and, shouldering his way through the crowd, disappeared.

"Geoff, Vance follow him!" Turner hissed.

The two started off after the Cat but their quarry was moving fast, dodging down a lateral corridor that crossed through the middle of the barge. The two squeezed into the passageway, struggling to get around a Wu whose half-ton bulk all but blocked their way. In that same instant the sharp crackle of an automatic blaster erupted further down the corridor. Vance pulled Geoff down to the floor. The Wu suddenly let out a deafening, trumpeting shriek and staggered backwards so that the two had to scramble out of its way as it crumpled down, blood cascading out of half a dozen wounds stitching across its chest.

Lying behind the body, Geoff pulled his weapon out and peeked up over the still-heaving chest of the screaming Wu. He caught a glimpse of the Cat they had been trailing, identifiable now only by the blood-covered piece of Gotherian glasswork clutched in his left hand.

"He's dead," Geoff cried. "Let's get the hell out of here."

More shots erupted from the far end of the corridor, now obscured by a smoke grenade that someone had popped off beside the dead Cat. The spray of rounds was nearly continuous as the two crawled away. Geoff could hear the repeated smack of bullets impacting the Wu, realizing that if it had not been for the giant, lumbering creature, they'd be dead.

Gaining the main corridor, which was now as empty as the one church mission inside The Pit, the two sprinted for safety. Turner stood alone in the middle of the corridor, weapon raised, Hans at his back covering the other way. Geoff could see the look of relief in Turner's eyes.

"Thought you boys were dead," Turner shouted as they scrambled past him and turned into their access corridor.

"Whoever it was got him," Geoff cried as they ducked into the side corridor. Turner backed in behind them and started to shout a curse at the Cat who worked for Gar, who was pressed into a niche in the wall on the other side of the corridor.

"What the hell is going on here?" Turner roared.

"Gar not responsible, that's in agreement!"

Before Turner could say another word a booming siren echoed through the barge, its wavering tone setting Geoff's hair on edge.

"Imperials!" their Cat guard screamed.

The corridor, which only seconds before had been completely empty, erupted into a seething, shrieking mob.

Hans grabbed hold of Turner.

"We better get the hell out of here right now!"

Turner nodded, motioning for Vance and Geoff to head into the ship. The four backed up the access corridor. Their Cat guard shoved his way through the panic stricken mob.

"My five hundred!" he roared.

Turner stopped, reached into his pocket, pulled out a heavy platinum coin and tossed it while still keeping his weapon aimed straight at the Cat with his other hand.

The Cat caught the coin and grinned. "Hope you live human, your smell does not turn stomach," he shouted and, turning, he ducked into the swirling mob.

Turner backed through the hatch. Just as it slammed shut a spatter of high-velocity rounds slammed against the durasteel coating, made evident by dimpling and flecks of paint spraying off.

"Punch us out of here!" Turner shouted.

Hans was already in the pilot's seat, powering the engines up.

More rounds splashed against the door. There was a moment of silence, and then a deep, thumping boom.

"Damn, they're trying to blast their way through," Turner shouted. "Heat those engines and let's get moving!"

Geoff, standing behind Hans, watched as the main screen showed engine warm-up and purge. He realized that Kruger had, in fact, screwed up. The engines had sat cold for more than a day, when they should have been switched over at least every eight hours for a quick pop off.

The ship in the next docking bay had already disconnected, the wash of its engines rocking Lazarus. The pilot slammed his throttles up to full, flame cascading over the forward view ports, setting Hans to cursing wildly.

"My new paint job, you bastard!"

Hans slapped on lateral thrusters and at the same instant a second explosion rocked the door. Hans pivoted the ship around and Geoff saw three Cats struggling in the now-open port to get back through the inner airlock door, but it had already slammed shut.

Ships were disconnecting from all sides of the barge, like hundreds of lampreys dropping off a dying fish. An explosion detonated directly above them. Startled, Geoff watched as two ships careened off each other, the side of one ripped open, its fuel tanks rupturing in a blue-white flash. On the far side of the barge, three more ships collided and were ripped apart.

"Get topside, Tolwyn. Turner, take the stern. Shoot any bastard that gets too close!"

Flashes of light started to wink back and forth as evidence that other ships' captains had already adopted the same strategy.

Geoff climbed up into his turret and powered up his target-acquisition computer. The screen was a mad jumble of blips as ships started to dart off in every direction.

"Where's the Imperials?" Hans shouted.

Geoff started to switch through frequencies on the screen and finally locked in on The Pit's translight search pulse, while sliding back the scale so that the confusion of ships in the immediate vicinity congealed into a single ball of light at the center of the screen. Eight blips appeared at the far edge of the screen and he then switched it to a holo projection so that all three directions were shown.

"They came right through the jump point we used," Geoff announced.

"Watch that bastard on the right!" Hans shouted.

Geoff pivoted his guns and fired, suppressing the instinct to duck as a light transport with two heavy external engines strapped on came boring in on a collision course. The ship was so close he could see the Wu pilot inside, its mouth open in what he knew was a wild curse. Geoff aimed his guns straight at the Wu, deciding to give him another second to react. The Wu pulled back on the stick, the ship rearing straight up. Geoff looked up and saw another ship crossing above them, even as Hans nosed forward, spinning Lazarus ninety degrees so that their wings would not slam into the bow of the Wu vessel, which plowed into the underbelly of the ship above them.

"How many Imperials?" Turner shouted on the intercom.

Geoff looked back at the screen.

"I'm counting eight reflected off The Pit's scanner. They're already picking up speed. Wait…looks like one's a cruiser with four fighters attached."

Turner grunted.

"Front door's closed, Hans. Where to?"

"Let's just get clear of here first," Hans snapped. "Watch your tail, looks like a Cat smuggler is swinging in behind us."

Geoff swung his guns to the stern and saw a sleek smuggler craft. Behind it the last of the ships were detaching from The Pit, one of them a medium-sized transport bristling with engines. The Pit's translight scanner suddenly shut down as the cylinder's single stern-mounted engine pulsed to life, driving it towards the edge of the black hole's event horizon. With the thousands who had been on board, Geoff wondered how many were still trapped and would soon discover what happened once the event horizon was crossed.

A flash of light detached from the belly of the craft in pursuit, a low, pulsing tone erupting in Geoff's headset. An instant later Hans slammed off his engines, pivoted Lazarus so that it was facing in the direction it had just come from, then fired the engines back up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Geoff cried.

The missile came roaring in. Lazarus' shields popped on and an instant later the missile struck the shield and then ricocheted off, breaking apart into half a dozen pieces, the engine still firing.

"Understand now, Tolwyn?" Vance asked, the slightest edge of mocking disdain in his voice.

Geoff was too embarrassed to reply. Their opponent had fired a seeker too close in, so that the warhead did not arm.

Geoff, who was still facing astern, spun his turret around and found himself staring straight at their pursuer, who had opened up with all its forward guns. The shielding around Geoff shimmered and glowed. He squeezed off a long, sustained burst, amazed by the sparkling display as his rounds slammed into the forward shield of his opponent's ship, directly in front of the cockpit.

He realized that this was no longer a simulation back at the Academy. This was the real thing and, even if he did everything right, his own death might be the final result. Their pursuer was bigger, and apparently more heavily armed. He wondered how their own shields were holding up as a maelstrom of shot and laser bolts slammed into them.

"Geoff, hold on his cockpit. Break to port in five, four, Vance, jam the signal he's putting out, two…"

Geoff held the trigger down, manually adjusting the twin guns as his stream of shots snapped across the narrowing distance. He had a sudden cold feeling that this opponent was not about to turn aside, and if need be was willing to ram. "One, break!"

Geoff started to pivot his gun even as Hans initiated a full burning turn without use of the maneuvering scoops. Geoff was startled to catch the flash of a dumb fire missile snaking out from under Lazarus, boring straight in on the Cat ship. An instant later the missile impacted right into the cockpit, where Geoff had weakened the forward shield. He was surprised to actually catch a glimpse of the cockpit interior exploding, flames leaping down into the bowels of the ship.

They shot past in a skidding turn that seemed to take them halfway back towards The Pit, which was ponderously accelerating in towards the black hole.

"Look for others," Hans announced, his voice dead calm.

Geoff turned his turret, but the other ships were now racing off in every direction. A few had been coming in their general direction, but the sight of the battle caused them to steer off. As they continued through their turn Geoff caught a glimpse of a spreading shower of debris.

"Geoff, pull down a nav solution for alternate jump points and do it quick."

Geoff did one more rotation of the gun turret to double check if any ships were turning in towards them and then looked down at his screen. There were more than a dozen jump points surrounding the black hole. The one they had come through was obviously out, as were the two that flanked it. He started to scan the others, pulling up nav charts to see where they led. Four came up as unknowns, meaning they most likely headed into Cat territory.

The fleeing ships were all starting to line up for their jumps, picking their points of escape and running for them.

"Geoff?"

He looked down between his legs and saw Turner looking up at him, motioning for him to come onto the main deck. Geoff slipped out from behind his guns and plot screen and dropped down to the deck.

"What's the solution, Tolwyn?" Hans asked.

"Three closest are out. Five lead out beyond both our frontiers, four back into Cat territory, but we don't know where."

"Head for Cat territory," Turner said quietly. "I'm willing to bet they flanked this system, and there's a reception committee waiting at most of the ways out."

Hans turned in his chair and looked at Turner.

"Lot of effort to break up a smuggler's nest."

"That's not what they're after."

Hans smiled softly. "They want your ass, don't they?"

Turner nodded.

"Like I said before. You had Confed Intel written all over you."

"Fleet Intel. Confed's civilian intel is thought to be compromised."

"You know, we didn't even turn a profit from our trip out here. I'm at least six thousand down."

Turner chuckled. Just do what I tell you and it's fifty thousand when we get back."

Hans said nothing for a moment.

"What are you out here for?"

"We think there's a war coming."

Hans snorted disdainfully. "Hell, there is a war on."

"A war?" Turner replied disdainfully. "I'm talking about the real damn thing, not some dumb ass phony show of force. The Cats are gearing up and we've got to find out where, and damn soon. We were sent out here to get the hard facts."

"Well, damn it, Turner, I could have told you that back at the Hell Hole. The rumors have been flying for months now. Everybody in the Landreich knows it."

"Its one thing for you to know it, its another thing for the president and the Senate to know it. That's what I was sent out here to try and pin down."

Hans snorted disdainfully. "Put their fat asses up on the border. Make their hides the trip wire and you'd see how fast they'd be putting the fleet on alert. Hell, it was the same thing when Xerxes invaded and the governments of Athens and Sparta could only argue with each other. It's the same today, the politicians who aren't doing the dying are always the last to get it."

Geoff looked at Hans in surprise, never expecting an allusion to the Second Persian War of ancient Earth history to be cited by the smuggler pilot.

Hans looked at him and grinned. "Just because I ain't highbred Academy doesn't mean I haven't read."

Turner laughed out loud and then leaned over and pointed at Hans' plot board.

"Look, that ship we just took apart was an Imperial counter intel team."

"How do you know that?"

Turner reached into his pocket and withdrew a twenty-five-credit coin. He held it up. Taped to one side was a small memory wafer.

"They have a leak somewhere. They were tracking him, waiting for the handoff so they could nab us all. If the confusion hadn't broken out, with their regular fleet jumping in so quickly, they most likely would have had us. Or maybe they were just looking for us and this courier, whoever he was, stumbled in at the wrong time. Either way, we're what they're looking for now."

Turner looked over at Vance.

"Do you think you jammed their burst transmission in time?"

"Part of it got out, sir, before I could nail it. Two seconds later they were all dead."

"So, what do you think?"

"They transmitted an identification of us, we have to assume that."

Hans looked back at the plot board, pulling down Geoff's calculations. The screen was lit up with streams of ships breaking towards their escape points. Suddenly, one of the streams started to break apart and turn. An open radio frequency crackled to life.

"All ships. All ships. Imperials blocking jump point Delta. All ships…all ships—" The signal disappeared as a jamming wave washed over it.

Hans looked back at Turner. "You really put my butt in the wringer on this one."

"You already had that figured when you signed on."

"Guess I owed you one for dumping that Sarn goon. Not that I wouldn't have nailed him. I already had the bastard cased out."

Turner simply smiled and then, without asking, he leaned over Hans' shoulder and turned back the scale on the plot board so that the entire system was shown, the known jump points highlighted in blue. He studied it intently for a minute and then, tapping the screen's joystick, he placed a crosshair over the jump point resting right on the edge of the event horizon and clicked once. Nav lines appeared, tracing their best trajectory in.

"We'll skim the event horizon, use the gravity to slingshot us around and in through the point."

"That'll be a hairy ran," Vance said. "Hell sir, off by even the slightest and we go over the edge. Remember, there're fluctuations in the gravity waves that close in. We can't be sure on this."

"And it takes us into unknown Cat territory. I was told the Imperials might not even know about that point," Hans interjected quietly.

"That's what they're not expecting. I can't see them coordinating a block on a dozen jump points simultaneously. They'll most likely cover the obvious ones and that's it."

"Too bad we couldn't have gotten ten or fifteen of our ships together," Hans said wistfully.

"Why?" Geoff asked.

"Cause if we could've, I'd lead them back and kick the asses of those Imperials closing in."

"One of them's a cruiser," Vance replied.

"So? They fight by the book. We don't. We'd kick their asses right into vacuum."

Vance shook his head and laughed, but Geoff could see that Turner was looking intently at Hans.

"You handled yourself well against that ship back there."

Hans ignored the compliment.

"All right, we take that point out. We're gonna skim close to the horizon so you better strap yourselves in. Old Lazarus' inertial dampening ain't the best and it's going to get rocky."

Geoff started to climb back to his position and noticed Turner looking at him.

"You did some good shooting back there. Perfect deflection as we turned."

"Who do you think the courier was?"

"Damned if I know. Too bad they ventilated him before we could find out. Could be anything, maybe even one of our intel teams that we wrote off but is still out there. Could even be a false lead. Once we get out of here, I'll run a check on the wafer, see what it says."

Geoff climbed back up into his turret and pulled his harness straps tight. Looking straight ahead he could see the whispers of light streaking in towards the black hole before they disappeared into the unfathomable void. He knew that slingshoting into the precise location of a jump point was going to be a tricky bit of navigation, and it suddenly dawned on him that the responsibility for that was actually his. None of the other three had commented on it, and the acceptance that implied gave him a newfound sense of confidence. Leaning over his board he started to check and recheck their run, which would take them yet deeper into Cat territory.