[05] Elite: Reclamation (20 page)

Tenim smiled. ‘Don’t you think he’s got enough to be worrying about?’

‘What does Octavia want with her? She hates the Empire, I guess abducting a member of one of their high-ranking families counts for something. A bargaining chip?’

Tenim shook his head. ‘That’s not it. Octavia’s no fool. She knows we’d pay a high price to get rid of the girl. She’d like nothing more than to humiliate the Imperials as well, so she won’t turn the girl over to them either. She’s stringing us all along.’

‘So what is she trying to do?’

Tenim thought for a moment, looked aside and then looked back with a gleam in his eyes.

‘She wants a war. The cunning bitch wants a full-scale war.’

Jenu recoiled. ‘A war? Why?’

‘Plenty of ways for her to profit,’ Tenim replied. ‘Selling arms to either side, information, spies, you name it. She’s dangling the girl between us like a tasty morsel. The Imperials will be forced to defend their honour. With her, they have a legal claim to the system. We’ll be forced to intervene to assert our claim and secure the Tantalum.’

‘But the destruction, the waste …’

‘Think about it. Octavia’s militia is powerful, but there is no way she could challenge either us or the Imperials at present, but if a war is fought …’

‘Both would be weakened,’ Jenu whistled, ‘enough for her to assert her own claim and make it stick?’

‘She already has most of the sector’s trade in her pocket. A few bribes would bring the local independent traders along for the ride. Dish out a moon or a planet to a few big-time operators and you’ve got yourself an armada strong enough to take on anybody this far out. By the time the Federation or Empire could send reinforcements from the core worlds the battle would be over. Taking it back simply wouldn’t be worth the investment.’

Jenu stretched. ‘Wow, and I thought I was ambitious.’

‘Octavia thinks she has the upper hand, that we’ll be forced to invade because she’s cutting off supplies to the Reclamists. She’s trying to force our hand.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘The idea of a full-scale war is less than appetising, either to ourselves or our Imperial counterparts. That leaves us with only one practical option.’

‘Which is?’

Tenim drew in a deep breath and then let it out. He looked back at her.

‘We’ll have to deal with the Loren girl, and soon.’

‘And Octavia?’

‘She’s going to end up like you,’ Tenim said, a grin touching the edges of his mouth.

He rolled Jenu onto her back, caught her arms and moved across her, taking her with a practiced move of his hips.

‘Oh yes?’ she asked, demurely.

‘Completely screwed,’ he replied, his grin widening.

***

‘Don’t hold it so tight. Relax.’

Salomé loosened her grip on the flight yoke. The
Talon
jinked upwards and steadied out. At her request, Hassan had allowed her to try her hand at flying the ship while the hyperdrive was spooling up for another jump. She was seated in the forward pilot’s chair, surrounded by all the instruments that marked the vitals of the vessel.

It had been overwhelming to start with, but it didn’t take her long to realise that many controls and read-outs around her were duplicated. Much of the ship was automatic. To fly the ship you could rely on various mechanisms to do their job. It was as close to being foolproof as it could be.

‘All the flight assist computers are on,’ Hassan said, when she queried some of the controls. ‘You don’t need to worry about most of it. Only the hardcore Elite pilots and the military switch them off.’

‘Elite?’

Hassan scoffed. ‘Don’t worry, it’s just bragging rights. Macho stuff, you know? I’m a better pilot than you.’

The flight controls were a surprise though, and nothing like she expected. They looked heavy and stiff, but even the lightest of touches moved the vessel around; it took a deft hand to be smooth with even the basic turns Hassan showed her.

‘It’s so quick,’ she said, overcompensating in the opposite direction. The stars whirled around outside the windows. She felt her body jolt to one side as the turn came to a stop.

‘It’s a small ship,’ Hassan replied. ‘It was a half reasonable fighter craft when it was new. Centre the controls before you want to stop moving and it will glide to a stop.’

Salomé tried the technique and found she could anticipate when the ship would come to a halt. With a little practice she had it down to a fine art; rolling, pitching and yawing the ship around its centre axis with a great degree of precision.

Hassan watched as she rapidly improved. The girl’s hand-eye co-ordination was pretty good; she would make a decent pilot given half a chance. She’d acclimatised to zero-G faster than most too. She’d looked a little grey for the last hour, but it no longer seemed to be bothering her. Some folks never got used to it.

Perhaps she might actually be useful.

With a fake ID he could sign her up as a co-pilot; he’d be able to jump further and faster with two pilots. He’d have to break with this part of space, maybe take a long haul to the Alliance worlds or take a chance out on the Frontier. It was better than losing out completely on this deal. Would she be up for that? One thing at a time.

‘Now for the drives,’ Hassan instructed. ‘That lever on your right controls the main thrust. Notch it forward to the second stop. See that blue zone? Stick it there.’

She did as she was instructed and felt herself eased back into her seat as the
Talon
accelerated forwards. The ship reverberated with a turbine-like drone, rising in pitch, throbbing through the controls and making the hairs on the back of her neck rise in response.

You can feel the power!

‘Try the turn now.’

Hassan watched as she gently moved the controls and saw her surprise when she found them reluctant to move, she had to push much harder than before. The
Talon
came about in a lazy arc to starboard.

‘It’s all stiff,’ she complained.

‘That’s the ship letting you know how fast it’s going. Tactile feedback. You can only pull as much of a turn as you can physically handle. Saves knocking yourself senseless halfway through a move.’

She pushed harder and Hassan braced himself as the
Talon
banked into a steeper turn. A firm pressure gripped their bodies, pushing at their chests and making it harder to breath. A flip to port gave them a brief respite before the g-forces pushed them in the opposite direction and the pressure returned.

‘It’s hard work,’ she said, blowing her hair out of her face.

Hassan laughed. ‘You’ve got to be fit and strong to fly a ship, especially in combat.’

‘You’ve got weapons on board?’ There was a hungry, excited tone in her voice.

Hassan looked at the scanner. There was nothing about, other than a few drifting rocks left over from a comet that had passed through a few months back.

‘Sure thing. Flip those switches on the left bank.’

Salomé looked as Hassan indicated two small red hinged covers, which opened to reveal two switches. She pushed them both down. The illumination in the cockpit faded further and a quick rising hum resonated around them. Two gauges on the console moved up their dials. Salomé saw messages appear at the base of the console.

Pulse Lasers Deploying ...

Shield generators online 100%.

An echoing clunk resonated through the hull. With a whine of servo motors Salomé saw a pair of complex contraptions rise from the forward hull and lock themselves into place. More screens flickered into life around her. A glowing representation of Hassan’s ship appeared, surrounded by glowing cyan circles of light.

‘Check the scanner,’ Hassan instructed. ‘Align the ship so the nearest blip is directly ahead.’

‘What’s out there?’

‘Just rocks, see the colour coding? Rocks show up brown. If it’s yellow it’s a ship, if it’s red it’s a ship that’s trying to kill you.’

‘Oh.’

She brought the
Talon
around, noticing Hassan watching her as she slewed the ship with greater precision this time. As she looked up at the windows she caught sight of the orange holofac targeting display. In the centre was a complex cross-hair arrangement. It looked as if it were outside the ship, projected on the backdrop of space. It was an illusion, but very effective.

‘That’s where the gun is aimed,’ Hassan said.

‘Am I pointing in the right direction? I can’t see any rock.’

‘We’re still kilometres away. You need to lock on the target. Just touch the blip on the console.’

Hassan saw her stretch forward and select the target carefully. Ahead a series of triangles appeared, designating a patch of space. More information accompanied it; a distance indicator, slowly counting down.

‘Line the ship up with the target and move in.’

Salomé pushed the throttle gently forward and banked the
Talon
upwards and starboard. The circles moved into the cross hairs. The reticule flickered for a brief moment, indicating a target lock.

Her reaction speed was impressive. Her fingers closed on the flight yoke trigger. A deep rumbling sound reverberated through the cockpit as the lasers discharged into space. Twin beams of coruscating light flashed out, lancing out into the distance before they flickered and died as she released the trigger.

‘Your angle’s wrong, you’ll get an easier shot if you …’

Salomé had already figured out her error. She moved the ship on a parallel course and then adjusted her angle of attack. The display locked on again and she squeezed the trigger. The rumble returned and a lance-like flash of light signalled the discharge of the lasers. A brief moment later she could see a rapidly expanding cloud of dust and debris which then slowly faded into the darkness.

The blip on the scanner faded away.

‘I hit it!’ Her excitement was palpable.

‘Not bad,’ Hassan acknowledged in surprise.

Wasn’t expecting that.

She’d hit the rock from a three-kilometre range without the gimbals, eyeballs only, and on her second shot. He’d have bet good money she wouldn’t have hit it at all. The girl had potential.

‘Maybe you should try your hand at this.’

She closed the throttle, bringing the ship to a halt before spinning the pilot’s chair around.

‘Meaning what, exactly?’

Hassan smiled. ‘I figure it this way. You’ve got no cash, no identity, no bio, no credit and no memory. I put you off at the next port and you’ll be marooned. No telling what might happen to you. No one has much time for stowaways. Easy prey for a slaver crew maybe or a prostitution ring …’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t threaten me …’

‘Easy sister,’ Hassan replied. ‘You got to make money somehow. There’s no free ride wherever you go. Not here, not out on the Frontier … especially not out on the Frontier.’

‘Frontier? What’s the Frontier?’

Hassan waved at the cockpit windows and sighed.

‘Beyond the core worlds, beyond the trade routes. Out there. More worlds than you could ever count. Rich pickings if you find something worth having. Exploring where no one has gone …’

‘Your point?’

‘I have a proposal. You’ve got some skills. Why not ship in with me for a time?’

‘With you?’ Her voice had a strong note of disdain. ‘Doing what, exactly?’

‘This ain’t a big ship, but it doesn’t fly itself. With two pilots we could go further and faster. Trade on the longer runs, make more money. Run the ship, replace equipment, handle negotiations. Really set ourselves up properly. We could go exploring – the Frontier’s the ideal place for folks who want to keep a low profile.’

‘What’s in it for me?’

‘I’ll get you ID, a credit account, a share in the profits. Teach you to fly. That will help you get started, maybe figure out who you are. After that, at least you’ll have a trade, you can work your way on another ship if you want. Maybe find your way home.’

‘What about this woman who is after you?’

Good question.

Hassan thought about it for a moment.

‘We’ve got to keep moving. Octavia’s influence only stretches so far, but she might have sent a bounty hunter after us. The independent worlds are our best bet. In the meantime we’ll swap out the ship’s transponder at the next base and recode it. That’ll make us harder to track.’

‘Is that legal?’

Hassan hesitated before responding. ‘It’s an old ship, stuff breaks. The transponder on this ship is decades old, probably about due to go pop.’ He winked at her. ‘You can’t always get a new part.’

‘So you’ll take one from some other vessel.’

‘I prefer to call it recycling.’

‘And then what?’

‘If we can make some lucrative runs we can trade in and swap to another ship. Then we’re untraceable.’

Her face was uncertain. Hassan saw her eyes flicker from one side to another before she looked up.

‘And how long do I have to work for you?’

Hassan grinned. ‘Well let’s see. Transport fees, rescue, medical care, not chucking you out of the airlock, putting up with the attitude, pilot’s training …’

‘Don’t forget compensation for shooting up my ship, kidnapping me and pointing a gun at my head,’ she replied.

‘How does six months sound? Thirty per cent of any profits, straight off the top. I’ll even throw in your food.’

She pursed her lips.

‘Thirty-five.’

‘What makes you think you can negotiate? You’ve got nothing …’

She grabbed his arm, turned it and pushed it back. He felt his bones click and his wrist lock in an uncomfortable position. She pushed slightly, a vengeful grin on her face. Pain jolted up his arm.

‘Owww. Hey!’

‘I might not remember,’ she said softly. ‘But whoever I am, I know how to fight. That’s got to be worth something.’

He tried to pull his arm away but she just pushed the lock tighter. He yelled in surprise. It was a practiced and effective move.

‘All right, thirty-five it is. Let me go.’ He rubbed his wrist after she released him. ‘Gods woman. What is that?’