Shadows of Golstar (9 page)

“Okay. What’s the status of the attacker?"

“There’s some good news on that front too. It looks
like our friends took a lot more of a hit than we did, and frankly, I don’t
think that they have that much left. They’re still in pursuit, but have dropped
back a little and the attacks have stopped, at least, for the moment.”

Owens gaze was locked on the tactical display. “Okay,
what about the missile they threw at us?  What if they try again? Can the
Holmes take another hit?”

“Assessing the damage we received at the distance I
destroyed it, the missile wouldn’t have done much more than had it been a
direct hit. We could probably take two more without serious harm. However, I
now know what to expect, they won’t get that close again.”

“I’m surprised that it wasn’t more powerful.”

“Me too, Boss. It had a lot less punch than I
expected. If that antique rocket was meant for anything other than to distract
us, it failed miserably.” Hec continued to fire and evade. “These guys can’t be
serious; what’s next, a rock?”

Hec’s sarcasm struck a note and triggered a new
thought in Owens’ mind. He quickly voiced his idea, “I don’t pretend to be
experienced in space warfare, but it seems to me our attackers are far
outclassed by the
Holmes
. Why don’t we just drop our evasive tactics and
go straight in on the attack?  It doesn’t look to me like they have the
punch left to hurt us seriously.”

Usually, when stellar war-craft were fairly well matched
either by numbers or ship class, space warfare was conducted as a hyper-speed,
three-dimensional chess game using elaborate evasive gambits and anticipatory
attacks.  It was now clear to Owens that the
Holmes
was superior to
its attacker in both shields and weapons. With that in mind, Owens believed the
resource-consuming evasive maneuvering was no longer necessary. “What’s your
take, Hec?”

“You’re absolutely right. It’s had plenty of
opportunities to try, but that ship can’t even smudge the shine on the
Holmes’
hull.” Hec went on, “Goody. I’ve always preferred the direct approach
anyway.”    

Abandoning its complex flight pattern, the
Sherlock
Holmes
immediately cut its engines, and with its thrusters, rotated its
attitude. With the
Holmes
’ nose turned directly towards its antagonist,
it relit the main reaction engines and began to slow its momentum, fast closing
the relative distance between the two ships.

Firing the lasers and the rail-gun alternately, Hec
tried to anticipate the foe’s evasive movements. The distance between the ships
continued to narrow rapidly. The enemy ship fired desperately at the now stable
target, scoring at will, but causing less drain on the shields with each shot.

“We, or their own missile, must have damaged some of
their capability to recharge their weapons,” Owens mused out loud just as Hec
scored another devastating hit on the enemy ship.  More violently than
before, the enemy’s shields again flared in reaction to Hec’s salvo. Owens
grinned, “Good shot!”

The enemy abruptly stopped firing. In turn, Hec ceased
firing, scanned the vessel and determined the enemy’s shields were down. Other
sensor readings indicated extensive hull damage to the enigmatic craft. It had
ceased its evasive movements and its engines now appeared off-line. It was
moving only because of its inertia.

“Hec, I want you to change course and get us in closer
to the bastards. I know we’re well within their weapon's range, but we need to
find out whether they’re really out of it or just playing possum. Keep our
weapons hot and begin a deep-scan of the ship.”  

After a few moments, Hec reported, “I confirm their
engines, shields and weapons are down. I can detect no active power generation.
They appear to be on back-up, static power sufficient for minimal life support
but not much else. Scans indicate eight souls onboard.”

“Well, I’m just glad they’re still alive. They’re
going to have a lot to answer for. Right now, I want to see just who in the hell
they are,” Owens said. “Are we close enough for a visual?”

“We’re still pretty far away. This is the best that I
can do.” The tracking screen changed to a grainy picture of the other ship. It
was hard to identify the model of the craft owing to the extensive damage it
had received.

“They took a real beating,” Hec observed.

“Yeah, and they deserved every bit of it.” Owens shook
his head, “Let’s prep for a docking but take it nice and easy, Hec.”

Hec immediately complied. The
Holmes
changed
course, continuing to reduce its speed. Hec began a cautious approach towards
their seemingly powerless attacker with shields up and all weapons locked on
the inert target. “I’m not receiving any messages from the ship. They could be
preparing for a boarding party.” There was an edge of concern in Hec’s gravelly
voice.

“Not to worry Hec, I have no intention of aligning the
hatches. Instead, I want a salvage configuration using the grapples. If they’re
able to repair the engines, I don’t want them to get away. They can’t escape
into subspace with the
Holmes
on piggyback. I want you to signal them
what we intend to…” Owens never finished the sentence. 

An alarm immediately blared and the ship’s shields
thrummed in response to the explosion. Status indicators once again cycled from
red, amber and then gradually back to green. Where the attacker had been
moments before was now a rapidly expanding ball of vaporized metal and bits of
shrapnel resulting from an apparent self-destruct. 

“Just what the hell happened?” He saw that his shields
were still registering myriad hits from the tiny bits of debris; all that
remained of the attacking ship.  

Hec was silent for a moment, and then said, “It looks
like the charge was more than enough to do the job. With our shields up, they
knew they couldn’t take us out with them. I guess they simply didn’t want to be
captured. I took a few readings and some additional visuals before they blew.
Give me a little time and I should be able to give you more of an idea as to
who they were or at least the origin of that ship.”

Owens shook his head in frustration. Damn them, he
thought. The bastards had managed to take their secret with them. He still knew
nothing about them. Who were they? Who had bankrolled the ambush and why? Who
had he pissed off so badly to deserve such an effort? He took a deep calming
breath. “Okay,” he finally said. “I know I’ve made a few enemies during my
stint in law enforcement… maybe even a few more as a private investigator. But
I swear, I can’t think of a one that would have the will or resources to outfit
a ship, an interstellar ship no less, to take me out.”

He mused out loud, “A laser through the heart on a
crowded transport platform, a bashed-in skull in a dark alley or even a blade
in the back… that I could understand.  But this, this is overkill, and it
had to have been damned expensive at that.” He angrily slammed his fist down on
one the armrests. Having been previously weakened from his Loder-powered grip
during the attack, it broke with a loud snap and fell to the deck. “Shit!”
 

“I wouldn’t know about such things Boss, not having
any training in your line of work,” Hec said, ignoring Owens’ outburst. “In any
case, you need to know I’m receiving a priority message from someone called
Ambort Neven, head of the Confederated Planets Security Corps.”

Owens looked nonplussed, “Head of Confederated Planets
Security Corps? Now why would Security Corps, much less the Head of Security
Corps, get involved with a small skirmish at the edge of civilized space?” He
mused out loud, “Hmmm, that would normally be in Space Flight Authority
Enforcement’s jurisdiction.” He shook his head, “My, my, how the red tape does
get tangled.”

Hec answered, “Actually, I don’t think that’s what
this Neven’s message is about. The introduction requests your services for a
special assignment and lists coordinates for a meeting site. The body of the
message is encrypted.”  Hec paused for a moment, “Oh, and don’t look now,
but those vaunted lads from SFA Enforcement have just arrived to save the day.
They must have had a ship in our vicinity. They’re a little late, but what the
hell, at least they showed up. I just traded confirmation codes with them;
they’re the real deal. And guess what? They’re signaling for a board and
confer.”

Owens asked for an outside video image and saw a large
ship with the SFA logo emblazoned across its flank. Sighing, he told Hec to
acknowledge their request and prepare for a docking. “I’ll look at Neven’s
message in my quarters and while I’m doing that, extend the docking collar and
deploy the conference room set up for the guest suite. Go ahead and direct our
visitors there if I’m not back in time to greet them at the lock. I shouldn’t
be too long.” With that he left the bridge and headed for his quarters.

Back in his room, Owens rubbed the back of his neck
trying to ease his tension. He sagged against a bulkhead, thoughts still racing
in the aftermath of the attack. He remained at a loss for the mysterious
assault. It wasn’t about piracy; the attackers had aimed for his ship’s total
destruction, not its incapacitation. And why did they self-destruct in the end?

If he discounted the attackers’ mass suicide, it
seemed like an elaborate, prohibitively expensive attempt at murder; his
murder. However, if it was an attempt at murder, try as he might, he couldn't
think of anyone who could come up with the money needed for such a costly ploy.
He couldn’t figure out the angle. Murder didn’t sync up with the suicide. Eight
people dead, because they failed to kill one relatively minor private
investigator?  No, none of it added up. His head began to ache as he tried
to make sense of it.  

He finally sat down, kneading his temples. He had to
admit to himself the attack had seriously shaken him. He had been much closer
to death a number of times while he was still on the force, but he had accepted
the risks, understood the situations and the motives driving them. This was
new, unknown territory for him... no motive, no suspect and
no weapon
–
the unidentified ship having been effectively destroyed. His thoughts were
interrupted by Hec on the ship’s com.

“They’re in the conference room, Boss, and really
anxious to talk to you,” Hec reported.

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” he answered.

As he turned to leave, he belatedly remembered the message
from Neven. Well, he thought, it would just have to wait until he was finished
with the SFA. Before leaving his quarters, he opened the med cabinet, grabbed
some painkillers and swallowed them dry. Then, trying to organize his thoughts,
he headed to the converted conference room for what he knew would be a long,
drawn-out interview.    

Three long hours later, Owens escorted the two SFA
representatives to the airlock. Back in the bridge, he watched with bleary eyes
as the SFA ship disengaged from the docking collar and headed back out to its
patrol route. “Well that was a lot of fun,” Owens said to Hec.  “I don’t
know why they had to grill me for so long.  The copy they took of our
ship’s logs will support our description of the attack as being unprovoked,
though I doubt their investigation will provide any real information on the
identity of our attackers.”  

“Must have made their day, something that far out of
the routine,” Hec replied. “As they put it, ‘space piracy will not be
tolerated.’ I guess they couldn’t accept that someone would try to eliminate
you and try it on such a grand scale. It’s sort of like using a ten-ton
hydraulic press to fold a napkin.  But hey, you’re worth it Boss.  If
you gotta go, do it with a bang, a really, really big bang.”

“Something must have gone wrong with your personality
overlay,” Owens responded dryly. “It looks like the ‘sense of humor’
parameters
were corrupted.” Before Hec could respond, Owens went on. “You know. I never
did find out what this Neven wants. I’d better go back to my quarters and
decrypt his message. While I’m doing that, reconfigure this room back to guest
quarters and finish up the damage assessment. Then let me know when we can
resume our course.” He turned and headed back down the corridor.

He abruptly stopped and said, “I just remembered, have
you had any luck at all yet in determining who the attackers were?”

“Sorry Boss, no luck yet,” Hec’s voice filled the
corridor. “I’m still working on it. So far, none of the databases I’ve accessed
have any information on the ship’s design. I did find some ships with similar
hull configurations, but they’re listed in the history libraries. Some of the
closest matches were from hull designs nearly two hundred years old. Do you
think that they got it from a salvage yard? It’s all very strange… Oh, and
there’s nothing in public police archives that shows any ship of that type was
stolen either.”

“Okay, let me know if you find anything else.” He
resumed walking.

Back in his stateroom at his desk, Owens managed to
decrypt the main message and read it several times. He then sat motionless with
brow furrowed for a number of minutes deep in thought. Finally, he coded his
response and sent it. He then called out, “What’s our status, Hec? If we’re
okay, I’m going to make a change in our flight plan. Instead of home, we’re now
going to the planet Denbus and meet with this Mr. Neven. His message was a
little terse, but he did convey he has an important job lined up and is
authorized to pay triple my fee.”