Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1) (7 page)

“Rapid succession, Archer. Look around this time.”

Switching it to rapid fire, he briefly hit the trigger,
wincing at every painful thrum. “WOW! Look at that! Sis, bring your tracking
scope up.”

Ericca hit a switch, and her scope extended from behind her
head and dropped down in front of her face shield. She raised her visor and
pressed her face into the rubber-rimmed monitor. The screen came on in front of
her eyes. “Ready.”

He hit the switch and flinched at the first burst. On the
upside, he knew, like him, she could see clearly for miles. On the downside,
what he showed her was worrisome. “You see ‘em, sis?”

“Man, oh, man!” she whispered in disbelief. “Looks like the
whole fleet is out there.”

“Sis. I count about forty ships—give or take.”

“Well, now we know where those two Talons made off to.”

“And we know who killed those men.”

“Record this, Bro; we got to get this to
Freefall
.”

“SNAP!” Archer shouted. That was his catchword for “Big
trouble,” and he wasn’t kidding. Four full Talon squads poured out of the
Carrier and headed straight for them at high speed. “I have no idea how they
see in this stuff, sis, but they do. HAUL, ERICCA! HAUL!” Archer stepped up the
neutron bursts. Thunder rumbled through their bones—
it was awful,
but it
was all they had to see by.

Ericca throttled up.
Viper
shot forward like a
bullet. “We can’t lead them back to
Freefall
, Archer.” She turned to
head them away.

“You’ve got them beat, sis.
Viper’s
more maneuverable
and faster than those trucks not to mention we have a longer flying range.”

“Yeah? What’s your plan?”

“So let’s take their ball from them, and make ‘em play
defense. Remember
Catch as Catch Can?
You tie them up playing that, and
I’ll try to figure out how they’re navigating in this stuff.”

“Atta boy, Archer. Let’s do it.”

Ericca hit a hard left turn to come straight at the Talons.

To clear a path, Archer opened up all four of his cannons.
Two of the central Talons ripped apart, forcing those near them to scatter.

Ericca spiraled around tight to confuse their gunnery. She
shot
Viper
through the mass of Talons then pulled a hard, tight turn
right in the middle of them flying like she never flew before.

When she turned this way then dodged back, the Talons lost
formation – the leaders lost track of their wingmen and vice versa. The
persistent THRUM of Archer’s neutron bursts only added to the confusion. The
Talons began to collide with one another, and metal debris started to fill the
area. One lucky shot from a Talon clipped
Viper’s
right winglet. The
ship spun twice before Ericca could right it. Now she was mad.

Throttling up another notch, she brought
Viper
into a
tight circle around the mess to cause even more Talons to ram each other, and then
she turned toward the fleet.

“No reason the big boys shouldn’t play too.”

Had the Confeds just taken their property, their goods,
their stuff, when she was a kid, she wouldn’t feel like this. But the idiots,
for some unknown reason, had to brutalize her parents nearly to death, and
then, along with their goods, torch them to finish the job. As far as she was
concerned, there was no forgiving that kind of brutality,
ever
.

And there was no argument Archer could pose that would stop
her from having her revenge.

The Talons, still in disarray, turned to line up on her and,
in doing so, a few more crashed.

“Sis,” Riley kidded, “at this rate, you’re not going to
leave me much to shoot.”

“Just trying to stay alive, little brother. Just trying to
stay alive.”

Not true. But that’s what she told Riley whenever she was
out for blood. At times like this, a peculiar calmness filled her from head to
toe. She called it her alternate universe, her
get-even
state of mind. Ericca
headed straight at the carrier with the Talons lining up behind her like a
string of pearls.

“Ready your guns, Archer.”

She looped over, lined up on the carrier’s launch-bay, then
reduced speed.

Wide eyed, Riley gripped his seat. His knuckles turned
white. The carrier launch bay was barely twenty feet high and fifty feet wide,
little room to maneuver when screaming headlong at 500 miles per.

The Talons caught up to her just as she entered. In his rear
viewer, Riley saw a couple clumsy pilots crash into the bay’s mouth.

“Everybody in?” Ericca asked under her breath. She brought
Viper
over to one side of the bay, ran tight near one wall, then pulled away hard to
make the sharpest five hundred miles per hour turn ever, inside the launch bay
giving her no room whatsoever to screw up. “Everybody out,” she whispered.

Riley’s stomach clenched as she headed back toward the
opening straight at the incoming Talons. Lighting up all four cannons, he fired
straight ahead to clear the way out.

Frantic to evade his guns, the Talons veered but, inside the
launch bay, they had no place to go. Most painted the walls with their ships.
The bay exploded. Flames like a dragon’s breath devoured the remaining Talon
fighters, and chased
Viper
all the way out.

“Cripes, sis! You think you got them mad yet?”

“If you think shoving a stick into a hornet’s nest is a bad
idea, just wait.”

Riley glanced at his rear monitor. Fresh Talons poured in
force from the carrier’s second bay. “You didn’t just shove a stick in, sis.
You walked up to their nest and beat the daylights out of it.”

“Gee, little brother, do you think we should git, before we
get stung?”

“Yes, please.”

“Blast it! And right when I’m starting to have fun.”

“Starting?!” Riley drew a hand firmly down his face. “Look
here. I got two bits of good news I think you’ll like.”

“Yeah?”

Riley caught her image on his monitor and met her hard eyes
with his own. “Yeah. For starters, I managed to hold down my lunch.”

Ericca chuckled. “Ooh, nice. I'm glad to hear that. And
number two?”

“I believe I have their navigation system figured out.”

“Great! How does it work?” Ericca headed out and away to
give them some leeway, a little room to talk. She wasn’t finished with these
Talon jockeys yet. Maybe Riley could give her something with which to hurt them
even more than she already had.

“They use sub-harmonic Ion variants to clear the static.”

“Okay? So what’s that to us?”

“Every time we give a neutron burst, it blinds them for a
second. They see us only in segmented snippets, a kind of jerky frame-by-frame,
poorly-made movie. It prevents them from getting a lock, so when they fire,
their aim is
if
-ish, and erratic. Only by sheer luck will they hit us at
all.”

“Good job, Archer. I have an idea.”

Ouch! She couched those four simple words in a catty tone he
recognized . . .
and feared
. Had anyone else said, ‘I have an
idea,’ Riley would have simply listened with half an ear. But whenever those
four, seemingly simple words slipped past Ericca’s lips he knew the rules of
the game would change completely, but to
what
he couldn’t even begin to
guess. Yet, he knew one thing was certain; this would no longer be a game of
cat
and mouse
. It’d become something else entirely.

He remembered her once saying, “I have an idea,” when she
was only twelve, and there, near Los Dabaron, the Confederation’s 5th fleet met
its end. But at the time she had the help of rebel forces, and Major
Richardson’s commandoes.

A year or so later, she again said, “I have an idea.” And
the Confederation 14th fleet wound up as only so much twisted and burned metal.
That day she had tricked the Confeds into a confrontation with a pirate fleet
twice their number. Riley—
with nerves frayed to the edges
—had walked
away from
that
mess much in need of a long vacation. There were periods
when his sister could be quite insane—scary insane. And days when she was even
worse.

But she wasn’t always that violent. Take for instance the
time when they had to deal with pirates. After much experimentation Rachel Kori
had discovered that water containers made of Plyocene leached anthroquinone—
a
harsh laxative
—when exposed to Rhthro-magnetrometer energy waves. This
amused Rachel because most pirate ship drinking water containers are made of
Plyocene. As Race often did, she shared this info with others, including Ericca.
Like a squirrel storing nuts, Ericca tucked this news away for a rainy day.

That rainy day presented itself in the form of a pirate
blockade. No freighter could get through to the colony on Tochni-Omechron One.
Without the much needed supplies, the colony would quickly fall to the pirates.
Ericca had an idea
.

But having been raised by pirates she had a soft spot for
them. Unlike Confed dillholes—
as she liked to call them
—she saw no
reason to kill pirates without a justifiable need. To leave an entire pirate
contingency with severe diarrhea Ericca considered reasonable. Riley did too.

Used once again, that same idea allowed
Freefall
to
slip past the Straits of Andus undetected, but those poor guys—
Riley shook
his head at the recollection
—their being left with fewer lavatories than
they had need of. And to think, even on a pirate ship, rank has its privileges.
Knowing Ericca was on his side, Riley was elated. He felt that if their enemies
only knew who was working against them—
namely Ericca Adrianna Archer
—they
would’ve given up quickly, and quietly.

Ericca’s ‘
I-have-an-idea
’ said just so, usually
spelled disaster for an unsuspecting enemy, and excitement in the extreme for
everyone else. ‘I have an idea,’ left unsaid meant flying straight into a
Confederate Carrier’s hanger bay at five-hundred mph—
as they just had
—or
head-on at Talons whose aim was to kill them—
as they just had
—or any
number of things just this side of insane. Were they really though? Riley
believed her ideas were actually well beyond. That was why they worked so well.
She was a risk-taker, an out-of-the-box thinker.
And
she had a mean
streak—not toward him,
never toward him
—but no one hated the
Confederates more than she.

And she loved sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors, and other
misdirects. Dad had once said, “If Ericca bet she could get the Ace of Spades
to jump out of a deck of cards, dance the jig, and then spit in your eye, then
you had better wear goggles and be ready to hear Irish music.”

If a sane man had just heard her use that phrase “I have an
idea” and understood Ericca in the slightest, he would seek to distance himself
in a hurry. But Riley was stuck in a little two-seater with no place to go.

As the Galleass approached, Jordon slowed
Freefall
to
a stop. “Hold position here,
Freefall
.”

“Aye, sir.”

Jordon went down to the cargo bay with his mother to meet
the arriving shuttle. After they opened the huge doors, a two man cargo-carrier
entered the bay and settled to the deck. A moment later, Buchannan French, Mara’s
younger brother, popped his hatch and dropped a foot to the floor. His pilot
and first officer, David Courtney, climbed out the other side.

Uncle Buck pulled himself out of his seat and greeted his
older sister with a warm hug. But he turned his back to his nephew as if the
man didn’t exist. “So what’s this about, sis?” Buck asked her.

“Still holding a grudge, huh, Uncle Buck?” Jordon said.

Buck turned cold eyes to his nephew. “You asked me here. I
came. What do you want?”

Jordon gestured to a crate behind him. “Five nine epsilon
three omega.”

Buck went to the box and keyed the code into its touch pad.
The lid slid back and disappeared behind the crate. Inside were black,
fist-sized cubes. Buck pulled one out to examine. “A.I. cubes?”

“For your ships,” Mara said. “Those are Jordy’s latest and greatest.”

“There are thirty,” Jordon said. “If you need more, I’ll get
them to you,
given time
. I suggest you install them only in the ships of
your most trusted captains.”

Buck lifted the mirror smooth, black cube and could see his
own reflection in it. “I thought you didn’t want to upgrade my ships with your
tech. What’s changed?”

“I had time to think about it. You were right. I was wrong.
And you can thank Mom for convincing me of that.”

“Price?”

“For you? More than you can afford. For Mom . . .”
Jordon dipped his head to indicate Mara, “. . . nothing. To be
perfectly clear, I’m doing this for her.”

“Just like that?”

“What do you mean, just like that? Mom had some hard
arguments. I couldn’t refute them. And you should count yourself lucky she was
relentlessly on your side.”

“Frankly, Jordon Kori, I don’t understand why you needed
convincing at all.”

“It’s like I told you a year ago. I was afraid this would
fall into enemy hands.”

Buchannan
hmph
ed. “God forbid they fall into friendly
hands.”

Jordon sighed. “You’re right. Okay? You were right back
then, and you’re right now. Regardless, I’ll supply you enough to upgrade every
ship you have. This will give you the advantage you seek.”

“It’s high time the rebel fleet had the upper hand. And I’m
glad to hear you’ve finally come to your senses,
Mr
. Kori.”

Jordon studied his uncle for a moment. “You still don’t seem
happy about it.”

Buck looked at the cube, tested its weight, then set it
carefully back into the transport container. Then, as he turned to him, he
glared at Jordon.

“What do you want, a pat on the back? You want me to smile
and hug you, happy that the prodigal nephew has returned home, has finally come
to his senses?” With all the force he could put behind it, Buck slammed a blinding
fist into Jordon’s mouth.

Unprepared for the blow, Jordon flew back and skidded across
the steel deck, and rolled to a stop. Now flat on his back, Jordon shook the
haze from his head, and quizzically looked up at Buck.

“What the—”

“Shield generators?” Buck said casually.

Rubbing his jaw and dazed, Jordon climbed tenuously to his
feet, his feet got tangle under him as he tried to take a step, and he lurched
sideways and sent a stack of small boxes crashing to the floor. His mom tried
to steady him until his head cleared.

Puzzled by her brother’s anger, Mara took hold of Buck’s
arm, and yanked him around to face her. “Do you mind telling me what
that
was for?”

“If you must know, Mara,” Buck said coldly, “that was for
the 187 crewmen who died while your idiot son was taking the better part of a
year to come to his senses.” He looked at Jordon with icy eyes. “Does that make
us square?”

Still stunned, Jordon shrugged and nodded.

“Really? You think a punch in the mouth equals the lives of
one man, let alone 187? Well here’s a clue; it doesn’t!”

Jordon dropped his eyes. Once done, some bad decisions could
never be undone.

“Do you have shield generators or not?”

Jordon sighed. Then he led Buck and David to the other side
of their shuttle to another crate. Opening it, he handed Buck another small
device. “Every ship has a Titanium shield coupling. Replace yours with these.
Each will handle the greater energy flow required to strengthen a ship’s shield
output nearly seventy-five percent. That’s just a temporary measure, but it’s a
start.”

“Temporary?”

“To replace the entire shield generator unit on each of your
ships, I’ll need a dry-dock. Rhone should do. But only after we carve out the
necessary time. Each generator must be integrated directly into its host ship’s
skin.”

Buck rubbed his increasingly tender knuckles, and tried to
shake off the growing pain. His hand was beginning to swell. “Anything else?”

“Navigation enhancements are in those crates. Weapons
components are over there.”

“Fine.” Buck said. “Now, what do you want for all this?”

“Everything given comes to you without strings,” Jordon
said. “I can leave Rachel with you to help with the modifications, and we’ll
return for her after we’ve seen to our Providence assignment.”

“We most certainly will not,” his mom said firmly. She
turned to Buck. “We have a request.”

“No, Mom, we don’t,” Jordon said. He shot a forced smile at
Buck which almost immediately morphed into a scowl. “Gather the crates given
you, and we’ll be on our way.”

“No!” she barked. Placing her fists on her hips, she glared
at Jordon. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

“Tell me what?” Buck said.

“Nothing,” Jordon said. “I’ll help you get your stuff
loaded, and—”

“Stop it!” Mom snapped. “We need my brother’s help, son. Now
put your ego in neutral, and tell him why.”

“No, we don’t need his help,” Jordon said steadfastly,
turning away to grab a crate.

“I swear, both of you pigheaded idiots will be the death of
me,” Mom fumed. “Sooo proud. Get over yourselves, both of you!” You’re
insufferable!”

Jordon turned with a box of I.A. cubes, and headed for the
shuttle.

“I swear! Stop right there, Jordon Kori,” his mom said, “or
I’ll knock you on your butt too.”

Jordon handed the crate to Courtney.

His mom took his uncle by the arm and then Jordon by his and
turned them to a doorway. “Conference room. Now!”

Jordon and Buck glanced at each other. Both knew that when Mrs.
Coalfire was like this she wasn’t one to be trifled with. She led them to the
conference room just off the cargo bay and made both take a seat across from
each other.

“Buck,” she said, “we might have picked up a tail. Joshua
believes the Confederation is tracking us this very minute.”

“Yes? So?”

“We want to lay a trap for them,” she said. “We need you and
your band of rebels to help us.”

“Forget it!” Jordon said, not looking at either of them.

Still standing, his mom leaned on the table and stabbed the
air with a finger at her son. “I swear, Jordon Kori, one more negative word
from you and I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Jordon said, glowering at her. “Come on, Mom.
You’ll what? You think you can turn me over your knee like you used to. I’m not
a child anymo—”

“I’ll do it,” Buck said matter-of-factly.

“I’d like to see you try,” Jordon said, still angry.

“No, Jordy, I’ll help you set a trap for the feds.”

“Why would you want to get involved in this mess?” Jordon
said. “Just take the stuff given you and—”

“Jordon!” Buck said. “You’re family, my sister’s son. Let me
do this for you. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“It’ll be deadly, a real game ender if we fail.”

“No question. Fact is I’ve never let the possibility of
dying detour me before. I see no reason to start now.”

“See there,” Mrs. Kori said, standing straight, “both of you
are capable of getting past your stubborn streaks.” She dropped into the chair
at the head of the table. To her right and left, Jordon and Buck faced each
other. “Okay, then. Let’s start planning, shall we?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve Saigus,” Buck said, “I’m
game.”

“Oh, but it does involve Saigus, Buck,” she said. “In fact,
Saigus is the key to our plans.”

“No,” Buck said flatly, “it is not.”

Mom rolled her eyes, pushed to her feet, leaned in, and
punched her brother in the shoulder hard.

“Ouch! Sis, what was
that
for?”

“You let me talk.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If after hearing our plan you don’t like it, then we’ll
address any objections you may have then and there. Not beforehand.”

“Rhone is our secret base. I don’t want to lead the
Confederation straight to it, and I—”

“Shhh!”

Buck looked at Jordon. “Did she just shush me?”

“Shh!” his sister repeated.

Buck released a breath of irritation.

“Now, here’s what we were thinking,” the older woman began,
then stopped herself. “Oh, I almost forgot. Jordy is going to die,” she said flatly.
The words rolled off her tongue without emotion.

Buck’s jaw dropped. He looked at Jordon, then at her, then
back at Jordon.

Jordon shrugged and dipped his head yes.

Could this be a joke? No one seemed amused.