Renegade (26 page)

They thought about that. “Hey Major!” yelled Staff Sergeant Spitzer from a level below, through the steel gantries. “Got the readiness inventory up, looks like we’re gonna be down another four suits!”

“Yep!” she replied. “Be down in five!”

“You do realise as well,” Jokono added, “that this whole command structure on
Phoenix
is a great legal pickle? I’m not a lawyer and I’ve certainly never been a JAG, but I’ve got a pretty good idea about Fleet law. Your authority to execute people for mutiny and treason comes from Fleet Command, but you’re currently in rebellion against Fleet Command. If they could return to Fleet HQ, Lawrence, Cho and Doraga would get medals.”

“I’m well aware of that,” said Trace, loosening the feedback tension on the elbow cuff with her uplinks.

“Do you have any ideas how to address the problem?”

Trace shook her head. “There is no addressing it. There never was. Command authority’s a game, Jokono. At ship level, at Fleet level, at the highest level of human government. Those people are in charge because there’s a general consensus beneath them that they are in charge. That’s it.”

Jokono frowned. “But without legal authority…”

“There’s no such thing,” Trace said firmly. “The legal authority you’re talking about exists because people think it exists. It’s data on a chip, it’s a piece of paper, it’s an idea in people’s heads. My marines on this ship also have an idea in their heads, and it’s that their loyalty to me and each other now drastically outweighs their loyalty to Fleet since Fleet tried to screw us. Whose idea of legal authority is superior?”

“You’re saying you’re going to just make your own laws?”

“We all do. Humans always have.”

“And for the past thousand years,” Jokono said meaningfully, “the Kulina have put aside all such selfish temptations to make their own laws and meet their own desires in order to serve the broader human cause.”

“They have,” Trace said shortly. “I still serve the human cause, Jokono. I’m no longer sure that Fleet does.”

A
t the end
of first-shift, Erik found Lisbeth in machine shop one, seated at a bench amidst automated repair assemblies and fast-moving techs. Robot arms blurred in motion, repairing damaged circuits and pumps, or fast-molding new parts, while techs dashed between, assembling and examining what came into their hands. Rooke had people outside in suits now, working with the drones to patch and repair in preparation for replacing the damaged portions of jump line. Ten hours, he insisted. Rooke had never run a repair job this big on his own — usually he was second-in-charge under Lieutenant Chau. Chau had rarely missed a deadline by so much as an hour. Time would tell, literally, if Rooke could do the same.

Lisbeth talked with her security guy, Hiro, running bits of odd-looking junk under a high-intensity scanner. Erik put a closed coffee mug on the bench beside her, sipping his own, and she glanced in astonishment. And hugged him hard.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, barely heard beneath the machinery commotion.

“Me too. Sorry I couldn’t call in before now, I was…”

“Don’t be silly, you’ve a ship to run.” Lisbeth resumed her seat, as Erik nodded to Hiro, who nodded back. He didn’t know family security well, given how rarely he’d been home the past few years. But his parents played a large hand in selecting them personally, so there was no questioning the quality.

“So you’re helping out?” Erik asked, glancing around. None of the other techs even glanced their way, being far too busy. Remy Hale didn’t think there’d be any security problem in Engineering, but he was glad Hiro was here all the same.

“Sure, when there’s something for me to do,” said Lisbeth. “But I’m not much on operating these machines, and these guys move faster without me. Mostly I’ve been running diagnostic in preparation, but they’re actually cutting and shifting stuff in the engines now, so diagnostic time’s over.” She indicated the parts she was running through the scanner. “These are hacksaw components, CPU portions mostly. It’s just incredible stuff.”

She indicated the eye-pieces. Erik peered. The little fragment in the scanner didn’t look much to the naked eye, but through the eyepieces it exploded in complexity.

“That looks almost like crystal,” said Erik. “Barely looks mechanical at all.”

“The database can’t place it,” said Lisbeth, eyes shining with enthusiasm. That surprised Erik. With all that had happened, he didn’t think she’d find much room for positive emotion.
He
was still rattled, and having trouble finding happy thoughts. “We’re supposed to be loaded with data from previous hacksaw encounters, but the database says it doesn’t recognise any of this. Erik, I think this is an entirely new genus of technology. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Wait… a
genus
of technology?” That was a biological term.

Lisbeth nodded fast. “Genus, yes. The AI race evolved in a range of different directions — different technologies, different evolutions. They were actually victims of their own evolution, technology changes its fundamentals far faster than biological evolution changes us. Different groups of AIs isolated from each other by vast distances became over thousands of years almost unrecognisable to each other, that’s when they started having all their wars.”

“Right.” Erik nodded, sipping his coffee. Trying to remember his deep Spiral history. This, he was finding, was the hardest part of being in command — keeping track of everything. As third-in-command, most stuff had ultimately been someone else’s responsibility. Now it was all up to him, and he felt like a juggler keeping multiple grenades in the air while people were shooting at him. Add chronic lack of sleep, and a sizeable dose of personal fear, and he wondered how the Captain had ever managed. “There were five different phases of history, each one involving multiple factions.”

“Well the latest research suggests there could have been more like twenty different phases, it depends how you measure them. There’s some old kaal texts that suggest that some of those divergent groups didn’t join the civil wars, they just disappeared. Erik, I think this might have been one of them.” Ah, Erik thought. That was why she was excited. At any other time, he’d have been excited himself. “That would explain why they’re in such a populous system as this one but never bothered anyone. They were just trying to be left alone.”

“Sure.” He blinked, and ran a hand over his hair. “Well no one’s going to look to mine a rock out this far, when there’s far more lucrative lunar systems around those gas giants, and the inner asteroid belts. Anything out here’s just a lot of fuel and trouble, I guess they knew they were safe enough if they kept quiet. Can you learn anything useful from this?”

“I don’t know,” she said dubiously. “I’d love to work on the software parameters though, see if it can figure out how it all works. If it gets enough data it might…” and she repressed a laugh. “Oh wow I just thought, what a subject for a doctorate! I’d really kick some academic ass.” And looked at him in almost apologetic mirth, inviting him to join the joke. Because it was a ridiculous thought, given everything else.

Erik smiled and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Yeah, you would. So how do you like bunking with Trace?”

“The Major? I barely see her actually, but she’s been great. It’s all a bit surreal.”

“Tell me about it.”

E
rik was awoken
at 0316 by Lieutenant Draper. “
LC? We’ve got a situation here.”
Erik rubbed his eyes, blinking away some unpleasant dream and extending the scan beside his bed on its extension arm.

“I’m here. Report.”

“C
hah'nas warship Tek-to-thi just pulsed jump engines on direct intercept course with Abigail. They are at four-point-two-five seconds light, we estimate interception in thirteen minutes realtime.
” Which was close enough that if
Phoenix
weren’t snuggled up to this rock,
Tek-to-thi
would likely spot them whether they ran dark or not. “
There has been no coms announcement, Tek-to-thi continues to broadcast full chah'nas signature. Also, the warship UFS Chester has pulsed jump engines on a departure heading, twenty-two minutes ago. I didn’t think it significant enough to wake you, there’s ongoing activity among all visible support vessels.
”

Erik released the connection, propping himself on the tethered pillow and fighting the bednet for space. “Dammit, that fucking laser-com was spotted. Someone told
Chester
to leave and now
Abigail
’s under suspicion.” He stared at the screen for a long moment, the dots and plotted trajectories. A chah'nas warship was going to intercept a human insystem vessel in human space? In front of a fleet of other human warships?
Tek-to-thi
was closest, it was true, but the sheer gall of it shocked him. Could whoever was in charge of this circus find no one else willing to do it? Or was there some other reason specific to chah'nas and
Tek-to-thi
?

He flipped channels. “Second Lieutenant Rooke, what’s our ETA on repairs?”

“
Uh, good news LC, we’re running three hours ahead of schedule. Always under-promise and over-deliver, huh? Be done in two hours max.
” Well no you damn fool, Erik thought — when delivering repair ETAs to the commander you gave him facts and nothing else. But he couldn’t complain now — it was good work, if it was true.

“Bridge, this is the LC. Second-shift is relieved, first-shift will be taking over, sound the change-over.” The alarm sounded on his uplink. Erik killed it, removed the net, rolled from bed and hoped to hell someone brought him coffee, and soon.

The chair was six strides away from his door, and Draper was already unbuckling latches to move the displays enough to get out. “Commander on the bridge!” someone said loudly, and Draper followed with, “Commander has the chair!”

“I have the chair,” Erik echoed, quickly taking the vacated seat, and Draper helped him buckle in. “Status please.”

“Alpha and Charlie Platoons are on the rock,” said Draper. “Along with another twenty from Engineering. Rooke’s got thirteen in suits along with the drones, they’re fixing the jumplines now, been at it solid since second-shift began. And word from the Doc, one of our marine criticals passed away. Private Len, Alpha Platoon.”

“Dammit,” said Erik. He couldn’t recall exchanging so much as a word with Len, but that hardly mattered. He’d been
Phoenix
, and one of Trace’s, and they all hurt. “On ahead, Private Len.”

“On ahead,” the bridge echoed. The rest of first-shift were arriving, as second-shift vacated their chairs, not quite as intricate a procedure for them as the command-chair but close.

“Thank you Lieutenant,” said Erik, staring at scan-feed.
Tek-to-thi
was closing fast, no sign of deviation. One didn’t make moves like that in any territory if one didn’t mean it. There wasn’t a damn thing
Abigail
could do about it — she had four-Gs thrust in her, maybe five.
Tek-to-thi
had jump engines that could gain the velocity in seconds that
Abigail
could make in days. “That will be all. Get some food and make it soon, we might be leaving in a hurry.”

“Sir,” said Draper, and left. Probably he wasn’t happy at being relieved. Erik had never been, when he’d been constantly pulled from the chair just as things got interesting. But that was junior bridge-crew’s lot on a warship, just minding the chair until the adults arrived.

“You see this fucking shit?” Kaspowitz growled as he arrived at Nav. “You don’t intercept human sub-lighters in human space. Someone should blow this guy a new asshole.” Which was harsh language, coming from the brainy Kaspowitz, but summed up what most Spacers felt on the matter.

Erik switched channels. “Operations?”

“
Aye LC?”

“Get me a shuttle on standby ASAP. I want someone out there for our techs in case we need them back aboard in a rush.” It was always faster to put them on a shuttle and grapple it than wait for slow techies in suits to climb back aboard themselves.

“
Aye LC, one shuttle on standby for EVA recovery. We’ll be on in three minutes.”

Erik switched again. “Lieutenant Dale, do you copy?”

A pause, then a static-crackly reply. “
Copy LC, this is Lieutenant Dale.
”

“Lieutenant we’ve got a situation evolving out here, I want to you begin the return of all non-essential personnel to
Phoenix
. Further, I want all preparations for immediate withdrawal of
all
personnel to
Phoenix
, ASAP.”

“
I copy that LC, immediate return of non-essentials and immediate preparation for total return.”

“Copy Lieutenant.” And to the bridge, “Helm, ship status change to orange, if you please.”

“Status change to orange, aye LC,” said Shahaim, doing that. It would pull everyone out of bed, and make all preparations for combat. The adrenaline charge across the bridge was palpable. Erik thought it vastly preferable to the previous feeling of helpless dread. Rooke had better be right with that ETA…

“We gonna go get him LC?” Kaspowitz asked.

“We can’t stop that interception,” said Erik. “And we can’t play our hand too early, our tail’s still in pieces. Someone else might stop that four-armed bastard from taking our ship, and then we’ll have revealed ourself for nothing. But if he boards
Abigail
it’ll take time. We can get him when he peels off.”

Karle glanced across from his full weapons systems check in progress. “Sir, we can’t decompress that ship if she’s taken prisoners, we’ll likely kill them getting them off.”

“He won’t be taking prisoners,” Erik replied, gnawing his thumbnail. “Letting him board a human ship in full view of a busy system is one thing — letting him take human prisoners could cause proper mutiny among other Fleet vessels.” Some of whom were surely doubting their orders even now.
No one
allowed alien vessels to boss about native shipping, anywhere in the Spiral. If a human vessel did this to a chah'nas vessel in chah'nas space, allies or not, the crew would be skinned alive. Sovereign species space was
sovereign
, and that rule had been true in all sentient-governed space for as far back as anyone had records.

“Be nice to interrogate one of their crew though, like they’re about to interrogate
Abigail
,” Shahaim muttered. “Find out who the hell gave them permission.”

“Exactly,” said Erik. “Kulik class warship Mr Karle. Get armscomp primed for it now, if we hit her we’ll hit her tail then board her.
Phoenix
has him out-gunned and out-powered, and he doesn’t know we’re here. This is as good an ambush spot as we’ll ever get.”

“Sir,” Geish said warily from Scan, “we’re currently surrounded by warships trying to find and kill us… if we commit to a boarding ourselves we’ll be an even bigger sitting duck than that chah'nas is now…”

“He’ll take off when he sees us,” Erik said confidently. He should have been frightened, he’d never commanded
Phoenix
into anything as hot and complicated as the pursuit and boarding of an unwilling warship. But he’d always been very good at this in sims, and seeing their relative positions, he knew the odds didn’t get better than this. “That’ll give us velocity to keep clear of pursuers for long enough. And Mr Geish, record all of this please, I want everyone to see what our grand Fleet is letting this alien fuck do to our sub-lighters.”

“Aye LC, already doing that.”

“Lieutenant Kaspowitz,” Erik added. “Plot me a course to Merakis, if you please.”

“Already got one LC,” Kaspowitz said cheerfully, calling it up to display. “We can two-jump it with a course change at Rikishikti.”

“That’ll be a heck of a thing with our new weld-marks still fresh on our tail,” Shahaim muttered, looking at that.

“Yes it will,” Erik agreed. “I have faith in Mr Rooke.” Another flip. “Major Thakur, you up yet?”

“
That’s cute,”
she replied. “
What’s up?”

“I have a job opportunity for you. Chah'nas warship, Kulik class. Likely combat boarding at velocity, hostile entry and several prisoners for questioning, senior officers if possible. You interested?”

“
Sounds like fun. I’ll do my recon now, get back to you in five with a more detailed plan. But for now, just know that I’d like an entry somewhere near the nose, with those main access corridors that gives me a straight shot to main crew and bridge, on a Kulik that’s not too much space to cover in… oh, say three minutes flat.”

From anyone else it would be a crazy boast. Erik knew Trace Thakur didn’t make crazy boasts. “Three minutes it is from the nose, their dorsal layout may not give me much choice but I’ll try.”

“LC, incoming transmission,” Shilu announced from Coms. “It’s from
Abigail.
”

“
All United Forces, this is Ito Industries sub-light freighter Abigail! All United Forces, this is Ito Industries sub-light freighter Abigail! We are subject to hostile approach from alien warship, repeat, subject to hostile approach from alien warship! Please ward off, we are unarmed, repeat, we are unarmed, we are a human commercial vessel on peaceful commercial business…”

The woman on com sounded pretty scared, watching that trans-light monster doplering in on her. Probably she couldn’t believe her own Fleet were going to let this happen… but why would a chah'nas warship be charging them if they weren’t sure they could get away with it? It had to be because
Chester
had talked to them, attempting privacy, but been spotted. Now Fleet would be wondering if
Abigail
knew something, with its Debogande-owned ID transponder, but couldn’t do it themselves because Fleet hitting unarmed human merchants would make them enemies in Spacer Congress. Let the alien do it. Let the chah'nas do Fleet’s dirty work. Were chah'nas command and Fleet command working together on this? To screw over everyone else?

“
LC, this is Dale.”
The Lieutenant’s voice cut off his train of thought before it could fully form. “
ETA on return of non-essential personnel, minus ten minutes. Others can be back in sixteen once you give the order.”

Erik thought about it, gazing at the screens. “That’s too long Lieutenant,” he decided. “Start pulling them back, cut off whatever they’re up to that takes them further out than ten minutes.”

“
Aye LC.”

“We’re not going to be moving for another hour and fifty anyway,” Kaspowitz questioned, meaning Rooke’s repair ETA.

“I got a bad feeling,” said Erik. “That chah'nas bastard had friends, I’m sure of it. This could be a trap to lure us out.”

“And we’re still going to bite?” Geish asked skeptically.

“That’s a human ship, and if the chah'nas wants information he’ll have to board and question,” Erik said grimly. “Gives us the perfect excuse to do the same to them. I want to know what he knows, if we have to twist it out of one of them in
Phoenix
confinement.”

“Now we’re talking,” Kaspowitz agreed.

“Incoming Fleet transmission,” said Shilu, and put it up without asking.

“
…approaching chah'nas warship is merely questioning the insystem freighter Abigail on Fleet authority,”
the voice was saying.
“No prisoners will be taken, I repeat, no prisoners will be taken. Authority is given for logistical considerations, and the chah'nas vessel has given assurances that all Abigail crew will be treated with the proper courtesy.”

“Someone’s upset,” Shahaim growled. “I bet a bunch of them don’t like it, command has to make that transmission to shut them up.”

“This is just strange,” Kaspowitz said grimly. “Since when do chah'nas get this liberty in human space? Something’s changed.”

“Whole bunch of people out here tiptoeing along the edge of mutiny,” Erik agreed. “It’s not just us. Damn right something’s changed.”

They waited.
Tek-to-thi
dumped velocity and merged with
Abigail
’s position. The frantic com broadcast stopped. No Fleet vessels moved to assist. The bridge crew were brought coffee and a sandwich as they waited. One of Engineering’s warrant officers wanted some extra time to collect a useful fabricator from the rock. Erik turned him down, as the others came aboard. PH-1 hovered off stern from the repair job, ready to haul the suited techs inside if they had to move, and Trace told him that she, three of her Command Squad, and Second Squad from Echo Platoon, were in position in the mid-ships combat dock.

Then they waited. Erik tried to stop his racing thoughts, and keep his heart rate under control. Waiting was the worst thing ever. A marine had told him once that when Trace was a young Lieutenant, and higher ranks had access to her suit’s vitals, they’d once found that while waiting for a big assault, her heart rate was actually slower than her usual low level. Erik wondered what it was doing now, and thought probably the same — almost comatose. She meditated, of course, like all Kulina. Apparently it worked, though he had no idea how. He only knew he’d give anything to be able to just turn it off, like flipping a switch, as she seemed to do.

Five minutes short of Rooke’s ETA,
Tek-to-thi
began to move. “I’m reading a one-G thrust,” Geish announced. “Nothing big, he’s just cruising.”