Authors: Phillip W. Simpson
His AI reported an
incoming message being routed via the ship. It was his father. “Speak of the
devil," he said aloud, chuckling at his little joke. The Areopagite’s
often referred to Semyaza as “he of the horned countenance."
His father
appeared on the screen before him. Having met Metatron on a few occasions, Asel
was constantly surprised by his father’s similarity to the Areopagite ruler.
Not that he should be. Metatron and Semyaza shared the same genetic heritage.
They were brothers.
The handsome,
silver bearded chief of the Watchers glared at his 27th son. “Well?," he
demanded.
“The Overdrive
will soon be in our hands father.”
“Yes. I heard of
your efforts on Fever.”
“That wasn’t my
fault. One of the Shepherds, a woman, has our powers. I was lucky to escape
with my life. Then we were almost incinerated by a Nova burst, before losing
the ship with the Overdrive. I assume they activated it…”
“Irrelevant,"
his father interrupted. “What progress have you made since arriving in Gitane’s
system?”
“The Areopagites,
whom I followed here, believe that the ship containing the Overdrive will
shortly arrive. They have two ships currently in orbit. One is Gabriella’s
personal Valkyrie.”
A small smile
played at the corner of Semyaza’s mouth hearing the name of the Areopagite
Princess.
“Show me their
positions.”
Asel quickly
opened a graphics file showing the Areopagite ships in relation to himself and
Gitane, and sent it to his father.
Semyaza took a
moment to examine it. “Ok son. This is what I want you to do…”
◊
On the bridge of
the
Hot Tucker
, Logan and Tarquin sat in grim silence watching the
approaching object. On the large display screen in front of them, the unknown
object was a large, slow moving red dot. The
Hot Tucker
was represented
by a smaller blue dot.
Tarquin, trying to
take his mind off current events, broke first. “Oh for fuck’s sake”
“Aha," said
Logan triumphantly. “That’s two dozen beers you owe me.”
“Well, if you ask
me, its a pretty stupid time to play, ‘first person to speak buys the beer’."
Logan shrugged
indifferently. “Should have thought of that before you agreed.”
“Idiot.”
“Double or quits?,"
inquired Logan hopefully.
Tarquin indicated
the negative with a one-fingered salute.
They sat in
comradely silence for a while. Finally, Tarquin could bear it no longer. “What
the hell is Felix doing back there?”
“At a guess I’d say
he was putting the Overdrive back together. Its a wild stab in the dark, I
know, but sometimes you just have to use your gut instinct.”
“Stop being a
dickhead,” said Tarquin impatiently. “That object is less than a 100,000kms
away.”
“Well, there’s not
much we can do about it.”
“Is someone
helping him?”
“Crystal’s in
there but its pretty cramped. If anyone else goes in, it gets a little
indecent.”
“What about the
others?”
“Last time I saw
them, they were playing cards. It looked to me like, pardon the expression, Ram
Terry was fleecing them.”
A smile briefly
found its way to Tarquin’s face. “Ah, religious types. Gotta love them.”
Another dot
suddenly appeared on the screen, accelerating away from the approaching ship
and heading rapidly towards them. Logan and Tarquin’s eyelids immediately
dropped down in response.
Tarquin was the
first to interrogate the ship. “Its a small object. Perhaps five meters in
diameter. No propulsion detected. Impact in 10 seconds.” He ordered the ship to
bring the Ion drive on-line, rapidly bringing it up to maximum acceleration.
Both men intently watched the screen and breathed a sigh of relief when the
object apparently flew past them.
“Fuck me. What was
that?” Logan enquired mildly.
Tarquin shrugged.
“Ship thinks it was a small asteroid. Probably propelled by a kinetic missile
launcher. Pretty primitive stuff but lucky for us.”
“Not a particular
pleasant way to instigate relations between two space faring races.”
“No. But something
tells me they don’t give a toss.” He indicated the screen.
Five more objects
were moving away from the approaching vessel, all rapidly approaching the
Hot
Tucker
. Tarquin, not trusting the ship’s ancient AI, took over the manual
controls and began maneuvering vigorously.
The sound of
straining engines and stressed metal could be heard reverberating through the
ship. Logan leant over and shouted in Tarquin’s ear. “Felix says that he can
have the Overdrive on-line in 5 minutes. It would be sooner if we weren’t
moving about so much.”
Tarquin gritted
his teeth and concentrated on the graphics in front of him. “Tell him to make
it 4. The engines, and the ship for that matter, won’t take maximum thrust for
any longer.”
In the cargo bay,
Ram Terry, Walter and Bruce had finished up their game of cards, mostly as a
result of their cards now being covered by lamb curries. As soon as Tarquin had
started his heavy maneuvering of the ship, the meal packets had started raining
down.
“What’s going on?”
said Walter.
“I think,"
said Ram Terry, despondently examining his coat that was now covered in Indian
takeaway, “that we should ask.”
Using the walls of
the narrow corridor as leverage, the three made their way to the tiny bridge
and crowded inside.
Logan noted their
entrance. “We’re under attack,” he shouted matter of factly.
“Really?” Bruce
shouted back. “I thought Tarquin had decided to go joy riding.” The gorilla was
covered in chicken tikka masala turning his once brown fur an orange color.
Logan ignored him.
“Go back into the cargo bay and try and find some vacuum suits. There’s no room
for you up here.”
They turned and
reluctantly made their way back, staggering now and again as Tarquin made a
particularly violent maneuver.
“Look on the
bright side," said Walter to no one in particular. “At least we haven’t
been hit yet.”
The ship suddenly
shuddered and rocked violently towards one side. The unmistakable sound of
escaping gases could be heard.
“Whoops,” said
Walter.
◊
The Class 1
Trireme ignited its maneuvering thrusters and moved slowly towards the
Areopagite ship, The
Divine Retribution
. Knights Captain Tynan watched
impassively from his seat on the
Divine Retribution’s bridge
, finally
ordering the crew to maintain the 20,000km distance between the two ships.
The new ship’s
Captain, a stocky, taciturn man, approached and waited quietly until Tynan
acknowledged his presence.
“Yes?," he
enquired brusquely.
“The Watcher
Trireme continues to gain on us, despite our efforts to the contrary, Sir.”
“Well, then head
towards one of the planetary defense stations. The Watcher’s won’t dare attack
us if we’re too close to the station.”
The Captain nodded
and turned away. Tynan scowled after him. The man showed far too little
deference for his liking. That would all change, of course, when he was
elevated to Angel status. All he needed now was for Felix and his band of merry
hijackers to make their appearance. Of course, he would have to deal with the
Watcher’s, but once Gabriella’s ship was repaired, Asel would be outmatched and
outgunned.
The
Divine
Retribution
moved slowly towards Gitane’s nearest planetary defense
station. The ship got within 1000 kilometers before receiving a warning from
the defense network, ordering Tynan to proceed no further unless he required
assistance or had legitimate business on the planet. Gitane was notoriously
intolerant towards foreign warships. The Watcher ship maintained its position a
further 5,000 kilometers away.
Tynan examined the
station through his ship’s sensors. The PDS was two kilometers in length, half
that in diameter and some 500 meters thick. Gitane’s planetary defense
station’s were a standard model, rectangular, uninspiring and employed by most
developed planet’s in the colonized galaxy. Even in its current position on the
sun side of Gitane, the grey shell would have been all but invisible but for
the myriad of lights, presumably sensor beacons, docking guides and the like.
Tynan upped the
magnification on his ship’s sensor and could make out numerous high yield
plasma cannons, field disruptors and slipmissile batteries. Definitely not to
be trifled with. Or any form of dessert for that matter. Tynan’s Galley would
last but a few minutes against one. Gabriella’s Valkyrie, on the other hand,
was perhaps the only ship that stood a chance in a pitched battle.
Tynan let out a slow
breath. At least he would be safe here. Asel would be mad to attack and risk
the firepower contained within the 12 stations dotted around the planet
A number of other ships
were currently in orbit. Mostly freighter’s by the look of them. Some, after
receiving clearance from Gitane’s space control authority, moved slowly down to
the surface under the watchful eye of the stations. Others, newly arrived,
rotated slowly about the planet, waiting for their clearance. Tynan’s own ship,
and that of Gabriella’s on the other side of the planet, were carefully
monitoring all arrivals and departures. According to the alignment of the
Hot
Tucker
, Gitane was the most probable destination, being the only inhabited
planet between Fever and Novelle New Zealand. It was just a matter of time
until they made an appearance.
◊
Two packets of tandoori
chicken hit Walter square in the face. He didn’t bother to wipe it off, fully
occupied as he was holding on for dear life. The asteroid had struck amidships,
instantly sucking out a variety of meals that would have been the envy of any
Indian restaurant worthy of the name. The three of them – Walter, Ram Terry and
Bruce - had been caught in the cargo bay near to where the asteroid had
impacted. Inexplicably, emergency fields hadn’t been put in place. Walter could
only assume that Tarquin was diverting all power to the engines.
Casting a frantic
glance over his shoulder, it appeared that Bruce was in the same predicament as
himself, hanging on to fixed shelves in an effort not to be sucked out of the
gaping hole in the hull. Ram Terry, curiously, seemed unaffected, surrounded by
a glowing blue field that he’d somehow erected.
Walter had no time
to consider this as the shelf he was holding onto began to give way, moving him
inexorably towards the rupture. A packet hit the fingers on one hand, causing
him to loose his grip. With a yell, he found himself flying through the cargo
bay, accompanied by a large number of packet meals and other debris. Bruce made
a grab for him as he sailed past, but missed and almost lost his own grip on
the shelf. Walter continued to yell for several seconds, finally realizing that
he had not been shot into space after all, and was currently suspended against
a field now sealing the breach in the hull.
Bruce came over
and helped the speechless and shaken Walter down from the field.
“You alright?”
enquired the mercenary.
Walter nodded
mutely. Ram Terry, still enclosed in his blue field, floated over.
“I think you two
should put your vacuum suits on.”
“What about you?,"
asked Bruce. He grabbed hold of Walter with one hand and a nearby shelf with
the other as the ship bucked violently.
Ram Terry shook
his woolly head. “Not necessary. I can survive in a vacuum." Bruce raised
his eyebrows in surprise.
“If the ship gets
holed again," his Raminess went on, “you might get sucked out. It would
appear that it takes some time for the ship to get the fields up.” Bruce nodded
and dragged Walter over to a storage locker where he pulled out a suit and
began helping the still shaken man into it. Bruce was in the process of donning
his when a searing pain filled his head.
“Not again,"
he groaned and blacked out.
◊
Felix had almost
reassembled the Overdrive when the asteroid struck the freighter, sending him
sprawling into a corner. Crystal, defying the artificial gravity of the ship,
floated over and helped him to his feet.
“Are you alright
darling?," she asked sweetly.
Felix nodded and
smiled ruefully at her, rubbing his head where it had connected with the
bulkhead.
“I think something
just hit us,” she said.
“Either that or I
think Tarquin should have his pilot’s license revoked.”
“Are you sure he’s
got one?," responded Crystal. She noted with some satisfaction that the
doors to the engine room had automatically closed with the hull breach. Good to
see something actually worked on the ship.