Star Vigilante (Vigilante Series) (33 page)

She glowed in his mind, at one with him and he with her. “The Mican must have seeded this system with self-replicating nanoRemotes. They would provide a constant real-time update to its shipboard StratTac computer.”

He objected, imaging graphics. “But stellar wind pressure would displace them fairly quickly. That’s why we didn’t do the same for the F5, but relied on self-powered sensorProbes.”

“True,”
Mata Hari
said as, on-screen, several of his sensorProbes that lay between him and the MotherShip now exploded, one after another. “But obviously the Mican has plenty of resources. Enough to replace millions of nanoRemotes as they decay from position. Some of them have already located our passive sensors—as you can see from the explosions.”

One second, six hundred thirty milliseconds
.

Shit
. Now what could they—

The ship rocked a third time.

“Maneuvering,” said
Mata Hari.
“Moving to new coordinates. Firing.”

“On what?” he demanded just as his forebrain was flooded with
Mata Hari’s Tactical Ops plan.

One second, seven hundred ten milliseconds
.

Eliana cursed. “What are you and this crazy ship doing!”

“Savingyourlife,” Matt said, speech slurring as his tongue failed to keep up with thought impulses.

One second, nine hundred milliseconds
.

Time to strike back. Time to fight.

::
lashed out.

The Bridge interior went momentarily black as outside, fourteen thermonuclear torps vaporized an area of space over forty kilometers square. The explosions were part of their TacOps Plan to set up a radiation pressure front that would sweep away any Halicene Nanoprobes. Unfortunately, doing this also confined them to a certain well-defined block of space. Just ten minutes from antimatter Strike range, Legion’s starship
Obliteration
came toward them.

Remorselessly, and with no attempt at contact, it came.

Matt’s skin crawled. His biceps clenched. He spit.

Nanoshells erupted from
Mata Hari
like bees swarming to a hive. KKPs speared out toward the Mican’s ship. Decoy pods cast off and went inert.
Mata Hari ’s
stealth mode came on with a vengeance. Vectors changed. The ship dived, twisted, jerked back on its course and began laying down a systematic barrage of laser pulses, excimer beams, and neutral particle weapon blasts that moved out toward the foe at the speed of light. The Mican was still out of Strike range, but perhaps the mix of lightspeed weapons and physical KKPs would confuse Legion’s Fire Control software. He grunted. Power fed into the antimatter generators, building up a four shot reserve. Sensors reached out. Behind
::
came death in the form of
Obliteration
. Ahead of them floated the flimsy shell of Zeus Station. It rushed up as they fled inward, away from their foe.

Two and a quarter seconds
.

Comlink gongs sounded again.

Mata Hari
floated in his mind, her persona-image now that of the exotic black-skinned Barbarian Princess, but one who seemed a bit worried. “Matthew, I believe you should take this incoming call from Despot Ioannis.”

Irritated, he thought-imaged acceptance. “Put him on visual.”

Before the photon relays closed, he changed.

Step-down
.

Slow.

Slower.

Crawling.

Matt blinked, back at human real-time. He hoped his gamble in leaving
ocean-time
would pay off. Nearby, Eliana leaned forward as she saw him come out of his Pit reverie.

“Matt. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Be patient.” He blinked, completing the comlink connection. Ioannis shimmered into being in the front holosphere.

Ioannis, Despot of Zeus Station and Leader of Clan Themistocles, looked as a frightened man should look. He twined fingers together nervously while behind him, his executive office smoked with burning circuits and drone-people ran around putting out fires. The Greek swallowed hard. “Vigilante, we have radiation burns to twenty-one spacewalkers on routine repair assignments.” Lips tightened. “Two are expected to die from radburn. Can you defend us?”

What?
Oh, yes. Two seconds ago . . . one of Legion’s throwaway scoutships had exploded three planetary diameters out, but all too close to the station. “Probably.” Tactical readouts now streamed in from the new Nanoprobes they’d seeded right after the appearance of
Obliteration
. “I’m working on protecting my ship, right now. Tell Dreedle to keep her corvettes home—they’re hopelessly outclassed by this MotherShip.”

“So I thought,” Ioannis said tiredly. “How long do we have?”

“Depends on whether they want to talk before they fight.”

“Matt, look!” Eliana pointed at the wall as another of his deep space Nanoprobes exploded on the wallscreen. The foe closed in, shortening the distance between their speeding ships.

“Incoming signal from
Obliteration
,” keened
Mata Hari.

“Later, Ioannis,” he said. The Despot’s surprised image was replaced by the smoldering, griffin-tiger image of Legion. The alien stood atop a spotlighted dais inside its own Bridge. Dirty brown wings flapped slowly atop its red-striped back. Its voice was formal, exact, and hurried when it spoke.

“Ship
Mata Hari,
under Command of Matthew Raven’s-Wing Dragoneaux, you are hereby notified that you are in violation of our contract with Despot Ioannis Themistocles, Zeus Station and Olympus Colony, and with Autarch Dreedle of the Derindl Forty-Eighth Dynasty.” Three purple eyes blinked quickly. “Specifically, Paragraph 4a, Section Two, Adjunct Delta gives Halicene Conglomerate the right to take any action necessary to recover, repair and reinstate our Mining Automaton, currently emplaced on south continent. Again, per our mining contract and in exchange for the provision of nine hundred full spectrum neonatal placental units to Autarch Dreedle’s predecessor and to former Despot Nikolaos of Clan Karamanlis. Human, you have four minutes to exit this stellar system or you will be destroyed.”

Matt grinned defiantly. “Prime Dominant Three, called Legion, you should have checked with your expert legal software. The Anarchate’s Fourth Compendium of Rules clearly states that no planet can willingly abrogate the First Rule—that is, allow interference in its internal planetary affairs. Even if they wanted to, this contract provision is invalid.” The Mican griffin-tiger had not moved while he spoke. “Second, the neonatal units are useless if you destroy the planet’s habitat. Third, why did you attack Zeus Station?”

The Mican yawned, showing massive canines. “We did not attack the station. If we had, the station would be nonexistent. We just offered them a ‘reminder’ as to who has the power to
interpret
contract provisions. You seem to have forgotten this. Three minutes remain.”

Nearby, Eliana leaned forward in her accel-couch despite the impact clamshells, clearly worried. Matt acted nonchalant. “My contract is with Despot Ioannis, and on behalf of Autarch Dreedle.”

Legion smiled a toothy grin. “Perhaps you should check with your allies before you act so stupidly. Monitor this recent Vidcast from the new Olympus Colony Despot, one Nikolaos.” Feeling shock, Matt watched as the holosphere went split-screen.

The frightened image of Nikolaos read from a piece of paper that he held in shaking hands. “To all whom it may concern and especially to the Anarchate provincial base. This gives notice that the affairs of the human colony of Olympus have now passed back into the hands of Clan Karamanlis. The ruler of Clan Themistocles, one Ioannis, is hereby declared an outlaw.” Nikolaos bit his lip, then read woodenly. “I hereby ask succor from our trading partners, the Halicene Conglomerate, in my efforts to reclaim our rightful rule to Zeus Station. This concludes our agreement.” His image disappeared.

“Noooo!” Eliana cried out, her shoulders shaking. She acted as if all hope were gone. In his mind, Mata Hari
joined him in shared cussing.

The Mican lifted one claw-hand. “As you can see, we have the right to be here and do whatever we wish. We have been invited in by a local business concern.” The Mican’s needle-tail lifted and swished lazily.

“That does not include the Derindl!” Matt snarled.

“Why should it?” Legion purred.

“
Override!
” keened Mata Hari
.

The holosphere again went split-screen, with Legion on one side . . . and the harried face of Autarch Dreedle in the other. She spoke hurriedly, her face smudged from smoke, her robes discarded for a combat harness.

“—are now resisting the attack with hand weapons. The Tree Melisen is damaged in two quadrants from parasite bacteria that resist our cleansing efforts.” The image flickered and a brave woman looked up, eyes firm and determined. “Repeat, the Genetic Manufactory for all Derindl is under attack from renegade humans led by Triune Spyridon of the Pericles terrorist group. We call for aid from any quarter. We specifically ask the Anarchate provincial base to assist us in repelling external interference in our internal planetary affairs. We are now resisting with hand weapons. The Tree Melisen is damaged in two quadrants from parasite bacteria that resist our cleansing efforts. Repeat—”

The taped tachmessage recycled. Matt was unable to establish a live connection with Dreedle. He turned back to Legion, who’d also gotten the same broadband message.

The Mican shifted paw position and flared its wings. Purple eyes glowed. “Twenty-five seconds remain, little primate monkey!”

Like the corporate raider and pirate he was, Legion had prepared his way well by either threatening, co-opting, buying off or intimidating all potential opponents . . . while simultaneously undercutting his and Eliana’s few allies. Matt swallowed, his mouth dry. Blinking, he killed the hated image. Then he turned to sobbing Eliana.

“Patron, we
will
prevail. Believe me!”

“Matt!” She looked his way, her desperation clear. “I need to do something.”

Lightbeams filled him with images distant and close, and all of them involved flashing machines, horrendous weapons, and death winging near. “Mistress, there’s not a whole lot we can do that isn’t already being done.”

“There is!” she said furiously. “Let me reprogram your orbiting minisats to help Autarch Dreedle in her battle against Spyridon! It’s my home too!”

Splitting his attention, he nodded. “Fine. Put on the virtual reality helmet beside the accel-couch, twig the electro-optical sensors, and see what you can do. Mata Hari
will downlink subsidiary comlinks and computer power to your post.”

“Perfect!” Eliana smiled grimly as she moved to help in the battle against Spyridon.

Ocean-time
.

His mind filled with an alert from his other partner. “Incoming,”
Mata Hari
said softly. His neck twinged.

Matt’s body tilted sideways as
Mata Hari
maneuvered faster than the inertial field could compensate. Outside, in the obsidian darkness of space, the Death Cloud approached. His senses perceived thousands of attacking torps, from nanoseeds on up to airsled-sized nuclear torps.

Obliteration
entered Strike Range.

The MotherShip fired at them. Multiple HF and CO2 laser blasts ate away at the mercury vapor cloud lying between them and
Obliteration
. Most depressing, their own Nanoshells were being located, targeted and destroyed by needle-thin laser beams fired from the Halicene starship, even as it dodged their initial laser barrages. And their own proton beam counter-battery fire was being electromagnetically deflected, dispersed by antimonium gas, or absorbed by layer after layer of ablative shielding on the battleship. For a globe eight kilometers across, Matt estimated
Obliteration’s
ablative shield at over a hundred meters thick. Crux point arrived. If they stayed where they were, they allowed the StratTac comps of the Mican to predict their position with high accuracy. If they moved, they would lose the protective vapor shield. But  that was already falling behind as they fled toward Zeus Station.

“Matthew?”
Mata Hari
glowed in his mind and breathed with him, cell-to-cell, skin-to-skin, inner heart to her own inner being. “Your recommendations?”

“Head for Halcyon immediately! Full power! And keep the holo decoys between us and
Obliteration
.”

“Complying.”

Nearby, Eliana retasked his minisats to support Dreedle’s need for targeting intelligence on the Pericles terrorists. Explosions flared on her repeater screen. She’d turned a few minisats into orbital bombardment weapons, hitting Periclean power supplies a devastating blow. Remarkable. But he had no time to admire his love’s creative anarchy—in short minutes they would reach Halcyon and be unable to retreat further. Or would they?