Too Old To Die, page 14
“Because you don’t normally scoff at the plight of others. Particularly people like what we’re talking about. Those men and women that died…” Barty looked down. “I have friends and family on Earth. People I respected. They’re probably gone. And I can’t do anything direct to help them.”
“Then we’ll find what we can,” Lyra said, “and the stuff that isn’t imperative to a war effort, we’ll sell. Everyone wins.” She turned to Zed. “Right? Help me out here. If my plan works, then we might walk away not only rich, but heroes too.”
“It’s always an angle.” Barty waved his hand at her. “You think we can profit from just about anything. But I sure as hell don’t see the money you always promise. This ship’s practically falling apart. And I’m assuming you want to steal the fuel when we get there since we don’t even have anything to trade.”
“And,” Zed added, “that’s if they don’t have information about our silhouette and immediately try to arrest.”
“Remind me,” Lyra said, “who made the mistake that got us tagged that way? Oh right. Barty, I’ve kept us free and on the move since we busted out of that prison. We’re doing okay. I want more. Better. Yes, we’re taking a risk on this damn scheme of mine. And if it doesn’t work out, we’ll still walk away with something. Just trust me. One more time.”
“I don’t know…” Barty’s shoulders slumped. “Eventually, a person has to make a stand. For something they believe in, not just money. Life isn’t always about cash or living the high life. Or getting in brawls and committing crime. Principles suggest we have to do something when our fellows are in trouble.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard this before.” Lyra put her hand on his shoulder. “You can’t do anything without resources.”
“And you swear you won’t try to pull some shit when we find this myth?”
“I do.” Lyra nodded.
“If we don’t find it,” Barty continued, “will you help me find a way to do something for Earth?”
Lyra bit the inside of her cheek. I really don’t give two shits about them. But I need this lug’s help. “Okay, fine. We’ll figure it out. One way or another, everyone wins even if I lose. That make you happy? Can we plot the course now and get underway? Before someone happens upon us and tries to make an arrest? Please?”
“Go ahead.” Barty stepped aside. “I’ll take a look at this depot you found too. See if we’ve got any data on it. Zed, you might want to take a look at the kind of defenses they always have. I guarantee you’ll be needed to keep those turrets from tearing this ship apart in the first few minutes of anything unpleasant.”
“I think I’ve got just the thing.” Zed took a seat.
Thank God, they’re onboard. Lyra flopped in the pilot’s seat. She got the navigation system online, checking the first suggested course. If they didn’t make it efficient, they wouldn’t make it before running out of fuel. Should take about four times to cut down the corrections necessary to arrive.
At least they had time. If Earth really had been attacked, most military personnel would be too busy to bother with a small-time criminal ship. Even the Joint Task Force with the Korla should’ve found themselves on humanitarian missions. Heading back to Earth to find refugees or whatever else.
No, we’ll be fine out here. Probably take our time locating the world once we’re full up. Lyra brought herself back to the moment. One step at a time. The first course came back, showing they’d run out of fuel long before reaching their destination. Wow. Three months of conventional thrust from that position. Try again, computer.
“Hey,” Zed called, “something’s on scans. An incoming vessel, I think.”
“What?” Lyra spun to look at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, we’ve got…” Zed paused, bobbing his head as he mouthed some words. “Looks like twenty minutes before they arrive in this sector. That’s… not long.”
“No.” Lyra cursed. “No, it really isn’t.” Come on, you piece of shit! She peered at the course, looking for places to cut corners. Help me out, computer. I’m a little frazzled. All that bluster about the cops being busy came back to haunt her. Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m an idiot. As long as the others don’t know, I can live with it.
At least for the time being.
The next course came up. Once again, it fell short of the objective. Though this time, they’d only have to fly for two weeks. I could live with that, but my companions would lose their minds. No, we have to get closer. I’m thinking a couple hours out at best. Even that will be tricky. And require a lot of charm not to get these guys calling for help.
“What’re you doing?” Barty slapped her chair. “I thought you knew how to run course! We need to get moving!”
“I’m not feeling myself up!” Lyra flipped him off. “Sit your ass down and stop distracting me! We’ll be gone before they arrive.” I hope. But that was looking less likely. Particularly when the computer came back with a worse course than her previous try. Too much crap in this area. Debris, asteroids.
All manner of obstacles getting in their way. Shit. We might have to throw ourselves out there. Though doing so might well be prolonging the inevitable. That being capture once a fully outfitted vessel caught up to them. And she had no delusions, if someone tracked them that far, they’d figure out where they were going next.
“Maybe,” Barty said, “we should go somewhere else. The planet we just left, for instance?”
“You think they’d be welcoming?” Lyra asked. “Just… wave us on down, give you a drink and ask how you can help? Think for a minute, man! Instead of helping Earth you’d be scrubbing toilets in a prison cell.” She tried another course. This one took longer to calculate… which might have been a good thing. “Hold on.”
“What’s it doing?” Zed asked. “I don’t understand nav apps.”
“Searching for a route,” Lyra replied, “based on data from previous visitors, and thank God for the buoy.”
“Wait a minute!” Zed tapped her on the back of the head. “You got all pissed off when I used the damn buoy! Now you’re telling me the nav thing uses it? Talk about hypocrisy!”
“You tap me in the head again,” Lyra said, “and I’ll rip that finger off. Nav apps hit buoys all the time. If not this one, the next system over. They’re in practically every major system. Ours scrambles our destination. So if you hadn’t done your scan, the data would’ve been garbled for our trip.”
“Oh.” Zed cleared his throat. “I… see.”
“Ass.” Lyra tapped her foot as she waited for the results. They came back, showing a course that put them less than twenty minutes out from the depot. “We’ve got it! This is it! Strap in right now! We’re going to light speed in less than twenty seconds!”
“Plenty of time,” Barty replied. “I never had any doubts.”
“Yeah?” Lyra scoffed. “I’m glad to hear it, man. Thanks for your confidence.” Bunch of clowns. She initiated the procedure, leaning back in her seat. Not today, cops. By the time you catch up to us next time, we’ll already be on our way to the secret base. And off your radar for good.
***
Chelsea’s ship entered the system, dropping to sub light speed. An initial scan showed signs of a recent FTL jump. Someone had left not even twenty minutes earlier. The buoy in the area would have more information. She altered course, moving closer to tap into the trip logs. Her military passcode provided her access to the privileged information.
This proves that old ship isn’t the best anymore. Of course, Lyra had to leave the previous system in a hurry. The head start didn’t mean much when they had to initiate an inefficient course, one taking them around dangers between the two points. Military nav computers tended to find the best routes faster than the civilian alternatives.
Even the best pirate tinkering couldn’t match joint task force tech. The hardest people to catch were the ones willing to risk putting stolen devices into their vessels. Most gear taken from the armed forces could be shut down remotely, or tracked. It took a real genius, someone in the know, to make them safe for criminal use.
You’ve got a bunch of maps, Chelsea thought. Maybe you spent too much time here. Which allowed me to catch up. What are you looking for? She couldn’t believe someone like Lyra might make a play against a military installation. Her vessel couldn’t carry enough people to make such an endeavor possible.
Desperate times, maybe. No, I can’t imagine she’ll commit suicide throwing herself against some facility she has no chance against. Chelsea wondered if Lyra knew what happened to Earth. Her military psyche profile doesn’t suggest she’d care much about the attack. Maybe I’m wrong about her honor.
A beep brought her back to the moment. Chelsea’s computer linked up with the buoy, asking if she wanted to download all recent data. She initiated the procedure, then leaned back with a yawn. When they arrived to take the statement of the security team, she’d already been working for a good eight hours.
Few ships moved through the area. Most of the traffic the buoy picked up came from relaying comm data. A couple civilian transmissions, six high priority military messages, and a long-range scan request by an unlisted vessel. One with a hacked ID code, marking it as a merchant freighter.
Hi, Lyra. What got you curious enough to take a risk? The information came back from Earth as well as a few other military fleet positions. Using stolen military authentication on top of it all. You really are going all out. Maybe I had you wrong about the psyche profile. If you cared about the attack, what kind of heroics do you plan to pull?
Trajectory readings came up next. Buoys recorded the destination data from all departing vessels in a system. It would then send the information to the next buoy to provide some early warning about an incoming vessel. The extra layer of safety didn’t help when explorers went way out, or criminals hid in remote sectors.
But it did grant a little peace of mind for those who stayed on the trade lanes.
Scrambled. Chelsea rolled her eyes. The practice of messing with FTL buoys guaranteed someone five years in prison. Doing so risked corrupting the entire system, which occasionally meant sending false readings to the next buoy. While it thought additional ships might be incoming, it confused legal navigation applications.
They must have been desperate to hop into a sector capable of tracking them. Or at least in a massive hurry. Maybe they did the same thing when they left. Their computer might’ve picked up my incoming signature. Which means I may be able to decipher the scrambled data. Enough for a trajectory.
A criminal had many ways to cover their tracks, each more destructive. Depending on their scruples, they might try to disguise their location by scrambling it. A few installed viruses into the buoy system, which brought on a whole mess of problems for spacers, such as inaccurate navigation coordinates and bad safety margins.
Then there were those who blasted the buoy with an EMP to erase the memory completely. Such an act brought the device down completely, resetting it to factory default. A part of a vital chain broke at that point, causing strain on the other buoys in the immediate area.
Not only did it work to remove all data of passing ships, it forced resources to be diverted to bring the thing back online. Fortunately, Lyra never showed herself to be the sort of criminal with a total disregard for the safety of others. Yes, she caused plenty of injury, but seriously mucking around with FTL travel was beneath her.
Those scruples might just get her caught this time. The computer started scrubbing the data. A timer appeared, showing ten minutes. Damn. She’s already got a serious head start. Depending on where Lyra went, it might not matter. Information appeared on the screen, a piece of scan data that survived the scrambling.
A full technical readout of the criminal vessel. All systems required maintenance and in the case of the thrusters, an overhaul was in order due to a factory recall. The information offered some insight into how bad off they were, though the most interesting part came from their fuel reserves.
Or lack thereof.
Oh Lyra. Wherever you’re going, it’s the last stop before you refuel. And there was no way they could get that done before Chelsea caught up to them. She grinned. This is it then. All your running and where’d it get you? Out of gas and stuck in the middle of nowhere. I hope the run was worth it. Your time is about to come to an end.
Chapter 10
Gareth watched the scanner, counting down the seconds before they’d be able to climb for orbit. The Veldon ships closed in behind them, grouping up for what appeared a regular attack run. Which meant they either lost interest in bringing them in or they thought they might disable the ship.
Whatever the intention, if they didn’t get to orbit soon, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the military vessels. Even with gray market hardware installed. The vessel handled well, though Gareth never fancied himself a pilot. He knew how as a tertiary skillset, a lesson about every officer had to learn.
But this civilian ship made it reasonably easy, even for an amateur. And not in the way they normally did by anticipating moves. That kind of system would’ve gotten them killed.
“Isn’t it time?” Keppler shouted. He seemed to only have one volume. “Shouldn’t we be getting out of here?”
“I’m working on it,” Gareth muttered, “keep your pants on, Doc. We’ll run away soon enough.”
“You know that’s not what I’m saying! This information, what we’ve got on this ship, it’s more important than anything right now, Commander! If we get this out of here, millions of lives will be saved! I’ve conquered…” Keppler stopped himself. “Many obstacles. It won’t be long before we’ve changed history!”
History? Gareth bit his lip. No time to talk about that.
“Garry?” Zoe said, “I’ve got some bad news.”
Fantastic. Gareth sighed. “Go ahead. What is it?”
Keppler asked, “Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” Gareth waved at him.
“The hole,” Zoe replied, “the one I hoped we could get through in orbit… it’s closed up. We try to climb now, we’ll be flying right into a couple battlecruisers.”
The pursuing ships opened fire. Shields absorbed the first volley. Gareth initiated evasive maneuvers, even as Keppler gestured up wildly without saying a word.
“We can’t do it,” Gareth replied, “Zoe, find me an alternative.” One of the enemy ships rocketed by them, coming close enough to give them a good shake. Yeah, I know what you’re up to. “Need that right now.”
“Who are you talking to?” Keppler asked. “What is happening?”
“Hush,” Gareth waved at him. A waypoint appeared on the HUD, directing them to drop to three hundred feet above the ground. They’d be cutting through trees at that altitude, way too close as far as he could tell. “Um… are you sure about that?” Shields took some more damage. “Right.”
“Uh…” Keppler yelped, “are you insane!? We can’t dust the ground that low! No!”
They dropped below the trees. Limbs snapped around them, some catching fire. The enemy ships fired from above, but didn’t match their height. Evasive maneuvers meant plowing through the forest. The path on the HUD showed a hard cut to starboard. Straight toward a mountain range some twenty miles away.
Die crashing into a mountain, Gareth thought, or get shot down. Might as well take the chance. He cut to the side, engaging the maneuvering thrusters to toss their nose in the right direction. The g-force jostled them about, shoving Keppler into his seat with a huff. The pressure kept him quiet, at least for a moment.
“There’s a gap,” Zoe said, “it’s big enough for this vessel as long as you can hold her steady.”
The Veldon laid down heavy fire over the area, turning the forest into an inferno. Flames and smoke rose all around them as the air warbled from the heat. All at once, it cleared. The opening to the rocks appeared directly in front of them. Lights on the HUD flashed red, indicating a small adjustment to the left.
Gareth hissed as he tried to finesse it. The alarm didn’t stop… the port side skimmed the wall then bounced to the other side. Shields held, though dropped below twenty percent. He leveled them out as the opening widened, giving them a good twenty feet on either side. Barely enough given his bad piloting.
“Are you trying to kill us?” Keppler shouted, “is this a suicide attempt? We can still get out of here, Commander! I know it!”
“Shut up,” Gareth replied. He kept his focus dead ahead, waiting for the first course adjustment in less than three hundred yards. A slight jog to the right. “The enemy fleet’s directly above us. I’ve seen multiple ships get obliterated trying to leave without an opening. We’ll try again soon. They can’t cover the entire sky.”
He made the correction, this time avoiding the walls around him. The blips on the scanner got further away. They must’ve broken off. But when they realize they can come at us from the top, they’ll be right back. Won’t take them long to catch up. Not since they decided to shoot us down.
“I see.” Keppler nodded. “I put my faith in the right person after all. Providing we get out of here of course. Right now, I must admit, it’s looking a little sketchy.”
“Not as bad as a few minutes ago.” Gareth winced. A stabbing pain formed in his gut, just below his left ribs. Christ, what now? He pressed his hand against it, which alleviated some of the discomfort but he needed both hands to fly. Shit. “We’ve got a problem, Doc. Might need your help to level us.”
“What’s wrong?” Keppler looked him over. “Oh God. Hold on.” He pulled a small medical scanner from his belt, waving it over Gareth. “We need to get somewhere safe soon. You need the second injection. Quickly. You know, when it’s possible, but we’d be better off if that meant in the next ten minutes.”
“So what is it?” Gareth made another course correction. “And Zoe, what the hell am I doing? How long do you want me to play around in this… ravine? Whatever it is.”
