Majesty's Offspring

Chapter 7: Dodging Shadows

Julius had cramped quarters compared to Laina’s. The room comprised a bed, a small desk with a holographic projector, a bookshelf, and a bathroom.


The dark color scheme mirrored the same shades of gray and blue of the ship’s corridors. Pictures of military vessels painted the empty spaces of the sparsely decorated walls. One wall showcased a collection of weapons, ranging from swords and knives to flicker rifles and pistols. Ship models decorated the shelf space, the centerpiece being a small-scale version of the Sea Wolf.


Julius walked to the end of the room where the bookshelf stood. Military books filled most levels of the bookshelf, except for the mid-level one, which had no books on it. Instead, it displayed a glass case filled with medals. Engraved on the medals were holographic insignias, some from the old UEP Navy, while others were honorary designations from his days of assisting the Martian Colonial Military against the A.I.


Julius glanced at the medals, grimacing that he’d even wasted his time to stop and look at them. If it hadn’t been for his dream, he’d have walked past them like he usually did.


“Old rewards for deeds long forgotten,” he whispered to them.


On the few occasions he even glanced at the medals, he had thought to just throw them away. Nobody remembered what he did to earn them; sometimes even he forgot. Nevertheless, on each occasion he fought the urge and kept them. He justified the need to keep them as decorations for his room; just as Laina had her artwork, Julius needed his medals.


He did not want to admit it to himself the real reason, and certainly not to Laina. The truth was simple: the medals remained his last tangible link to a time when he had a purpose. Perhaps, he felt, by keeping them, it kept that link and purpose alive … somehow.


Sighing, Julius felt a little guilty. He had chastised Laina for wanting to seek a purpose of her own; yet here he was, clinging to the same need. At least he had found a purpose once; Laina was still searching for hers.


Together, it seemed they were both lost in this underworld they had created, piling actions and plans on top of one another, hoping they would one day converge into a logical purpose.


Yet, throughout the years of piracy they had endured, they had found nothing in the riches. Sure, they experienced brief bursts of adrenaline as they narrowly escape an encounter, or felt the excitement of opening up a cargo container to find an unexpected treasure—brief moments of pleasure, but all without purpose. Julius had to wonder, perhaps, that maybe his heart was not in it anymore, either.


Turning away from the medals, Julius walked to his desk and sat down. He pushed away the somber thoughts. He had work to do, after all.


He activated the holographic projector. The hologram showed a potential list of target shipments. Laina had furnished him the list from one of her many contacts.


Glancing over a dozen possible targets, along with their delivery routes, Julius narrowed down the list to three, eliminating those that would be flying well-trafficked space routes. Of the three, he only knew the cargo from one of the ships; the other two were unknown. The known cargo was a shipment of refined ores: platinum and gold mainly. They would not be as easy to sell off as other typical cargo hits, but at least he knew it was worth something.


He keyed into the computer a command to bring up a new image. The hologram showed a still image of their most recent encounter with UEP Enforcement. The visual showed miniature versions of the Sea Wolf, along with the target convoy. A small set of icons depicted Wolf Squadron.


Julius hit the play button and the holographic ships began to move.


The convoy came out of warp just outside Earth’s gravity field. The gravity forced the ships to drop to regular propulsion. The convoy consisted of three cargo ships, each bearing Martian Confederacy markings.


The Sea Wolf waited close by, hidden in the field of its stealth shroud, watching the convoy pass. At that moment, Wolf Squadron came out of warp on top of the convoy and began its attack. Using precision strafing runs, Wolf Squadron damaged their propulsion and defensive systems, while the Sea Wolf jammed all communications from the convoy, blocking its distress call.


Wolf Squadron stopped firing and began to circle the wounded prey, while the Sea Wolf made a wave connection to the onboard computers of the cargo ships. Then, the Sea Wolf’s hacker—Jared—began breaking into their computers to force the cargo ships to dump their cargo. If all went according to plan, the cargo would drop, and the cargo ships would have hurried off while the Sea Wolf scooped up the goods.


Julius frowned as the recorder showed a flashing icon next to the miniature capital ship, indicating loss of power on the Sea Wolf.


The image of the Sea Wolf became solid as it came out of its stealth shroud. At this point, the communication channels opened up and the convoy’s distress call made it out. Wolf Squadron tried in vain to silence the convoy with some targeted attacks against their communication array, but the call had already gone out.


Julius remembered waiting, like a sitting duck, for the crew to get the reactor back online, hoping that UEP Enforcement did not get the signal. He knew his hopes were shattered when three Enforcement destroyers made their appearance.


Julius watched the replay of his fighter pilots being picked off by the destroyers’ accelerated proton cannons and missile fire. He could see the Sea Wolf begin to move as it regained power. Julius ordered a retreat and warped the ship away. What was left of Wolf Squadron escaped along with her.


The computer beeped and displayed “End of Recording” over the hologram. Julius mulled over the replay of the battle. He realized that the unexpected power loss was the key factor in the outcome. Nevertheless, he felt it would be unwise to dismiss it as the only factor and not learn from it; something could have been done to improve the outcome.


Julius’ ear-link chimed—he would need to mull this over later. A hologram appeared from his ear-link—it was not 2230 ship time. The last of the shuttles should be returning from Deimos-1 now. He turned off the holographic projector and headed out of his quarters.


He walked down the hallway, passing Laina’s quarters along the way to the elevator. He briefly wondered if Laina would be awake. She said she wanted to go to New Las Vegas, but he didn’t remember seeing her name on the list of departing crew. In all likelihood, she was probably passed out from drink.


Julius stepped into the elevator and rode it to the bridge. He could hear a creak from somewhere in the elevator as it moved. He shifted his weight to his other foot and could hear the creak again. The noise was coming from the flooring. With the endless list of things to fix on the ship, he would have to live with the noise.


The elevator doors opened to reveal the bridge. He stepped onto it and made his way ahead to his command module.


The bridge was a sphere-shaped chamber about thirty meters in diameter. The flooring, walls, and ceiling were made of non-reflective transparent metal. Beyond the clear steel was a holographic projection revealing the ship’s surroundings. No instrumentation was on the walls of the bridge; instead, various seating modules were in the center for each officer. The bridge had a total of seven seating modules: navigation, ship combat, tactical operations, wave warfare, sub-command, and command, plus an extra auxiliary module. Each module had a chair equipped with holographic instrumentation and anti-gravity motors—to allow for free roaming within the chamber.


Julius sat in his command module, taking note that all of the bridge crew were present—except Laina, of course. Garval was the Tactical Operations Officer. Any operations dealing with the fighter squadron or shuttles fell under him.


Jessen was the Navigation Officer, and a former science explorer for the Martian Confederacy. He was the one who originally turned Julius onto the asteroid field anomaly that they now used as their base.


Jared was the Wave Warfare Officer, which meant he was their onboard hacker. He had been involved in various high-profile computer break-ins back in the early days after the A.I. War. He had narrowly avoided capture by the UEP before joining the crew.


Finally, there was Ramey, their Ship Combat Officer. He was probably the most quiet and private person on the ship; he ate alone and rarely talked with any of the crew, even Julius. Nevertheless, his experience with the UES Sea Wolf class capital ships was unsurpassed. He had served with Julius in the early part of the A.I. War, also as a combat officer.


“Garval, status report,” Julius said.


“Yes, sir,” he said.


The forward section of the bridge lit up with information that overlaid the view of the asteroid field outside.


“Most of the personnel have either returned or have checked in and are en route,” he continued. “However, we have six missing that haven’t checked in.”


Julius read the information. “The new recruits.”


“Aye, sir.”


Julius could detect the hint of a smirk on Garval’s face.


“Is there something more I should know about, Lieutenant?” Julius asked.


The smirk disappeared. “No, Captain.”


“Very well,” Julius said. “Send a bulletin to each of the returning crew asking for information on the whereabouts of the six.”


“Yes, sir,” Garval said.


“Jared,” Julius said, “tap into the Martian waves. Maybe if they were arrested, we can get the details.”


“Yes, Captain,” Jared said.


Julius knew the pilots could be trouble, but he did not think they would do something careless enough to be arrested. Nevertheless, if caught, they could be made to talk. Not to mention, they were good pilots.


The smirk on Garval’s face made him wonder if the crew was up to something. It would not have been the first time that they tested the mettle of new recruits. Undoubtedly, other factors could be at work, such as the fear that the individual salaries would drop with more crew.


“Sir, I have something,” Jared said.


“Go on,” Julius said.


“It’s an encrypted transmission from Reece. He says that he and the other pilots are on a stolen shuttle and are trying to evade Martian Civic Guardians. They are trying to make it out of Mars’ gravity well so they can make the jump out. They say they don’t need any help.”


“Of course they don’t need our help,” Julius said. “Jessen, plot a jump course to Mars, adjacent to Deimos-1. Keep us distant from any gravity wells; we’ll be going in under stealth shroud. Ready for stellar jump.”








*****











The Martian sky was a light rust color and thick with orange clouds. Three small ships, bearing Martian Confederacy markings, chased their tail into the cloud cover. Flashes of light reflected across the clouds around them as the pursuing ships fired their weapons.


Beams of accelerated protons streaked above the escaping ship, igniting the dorsal portion of its shields, reacting against it and producing a colorful array of electrical charges followed by a small, fiery explosion. The escaping ship stopped its climb and dove down, avoiding a second volley of protons fired at it.


“You sure picked a nice piece of shit to fly, Reece,” Tash said. “No weapons, and an active transponder we can’t shut off.”


“Shut up, Tash. He’s concentrating on flying,” Eddie said.


Reece sat in the pilot’s chair of the small shuttle, trying to climb out of Mars’ atmosphere and at the same time trying to avoid the volley of fire coming from the Martian security forces.


“Maybe if we divert some power, you can move out of range of their cannons,” Tash said.


“Aye, we could,” Mac said. “But then you’d be in range of their missiles, and those, laddy, we can’t dodge.”


The ship suddenly shook hard, causing the pilots to nearly lose their balance.


“What the hell was that?” Tash said.


“Looks like we got another ship chasing us,” Cronin said from the co-pilot seat. “I think he’s trying to get a tow beam on us.”


“I’m trying to shake it,” Reece said through gritted teeth.


The ship shook again hard as the tow beam tried to lock on. Flashes lit up the cockpit from cannon fire shooting ahead of their position.


“They’re trying to keep us from dodging the tow,” Cronin said. “They must want us alive; they could have killed us by now.”


“Aye, probably the trinket we’re carrying,” Mac said.


“What kind of range do you think that tow has, Cronin?” Reece said.


Cronin typed on a computer console before answering. “Too long a range. If you try to get too far, they’ll be in range to shoot their missiles.”


“But you said they want us alive, so they won’t shoot us, will they?” Tash asked.


“They might have EMP missiles,” Taffy said. “They could cripple us and take us alive.”


“Not happening,” Reece said. “Cronin, divert all available power to the engines, take some off the shields if you have to.”


“What’re you going to do?” Tash asked.


“I have an idea,” Reece said.


In a sudden burst of speed, Reece accelerated ahead of the pursuing ships. The security ships tried to match their velocity, but the distance gap between them slowly grew.


“We’re outrunning them,” Cronin said. “But the tow beam is still trying to lock.”


“How much time before they can fire missiles?” Reece said.


Cronin looked at his computer display. “Twelve seconds.”


Light from cannon fire flashed ahead of them, but the shots were well off target as they were beyond effective range. After a moment, the shots stopped.


“They’re firing missiles,” Cronin said.


“Good,” Reece said. “Cronin, all power to engines. Turn off shields.”


“No shields?” Tash said, voice rising.


The missiles from the pursuers streaked ahead toward the stolen ship. Their silver-tipped warheads pierced the clouds and raced ahead with a single-minded purpose. The rogue ship suddenly made a dive, doing a reverse loop. The missiles matched their move and continued to close in. The rogue ship finished its loop and shot itself toward the pursuing ships.


“Which one has the tow?” Reece said.


“Middle one,” Cronin said.


The rogue ship, with missiles close behind, climbed into the belly of the ship formation. The three ships tried to maneuver away, but the momentum was too great. As the stolen ship got close, it jerked straight down and turned its engines off. The missiles, forced by their own momentum and the force of the tow beam, collided with the middle ship. A white flash of light encased the three security ships and all three began to fall.


The rogue ship’s engines turned back on in freefall and came out of its dive, climbing for the Martian sky.


“Nice one,” Cronin said.


“What happened?” Tash asked.


“He used their tow beam against them,” Eddie said. “By heading toward them, and turning off his engines, he confused the missiles; at the same time, the tow beam pulled the missiles toward the middle ship before the missiles could reacquire their lock on us.”


“Did they live?” Reece asked Cronin, his voice quiet.


“I see ejection signatures,” Cronin said. “I think they made it.”


“Who cares? We made it,” Tash said.


The ship carrying the rogue pilots left the Martian atmosphere and emerged into space. Deimos-1 was visible, orbiting the red planet, as was a small fleet of ships that moved quickly to intercept the rogue ship as it came out. Three of the ships were capital ships; the other five were smaller scout craft.


The capital ships were of a relatively flat, wing-shaped design with various weapon emplacements along the wing. Their underbellies bulged out where the main hull housed their crew. The scout craft were essentially miniature versions of the capital ships, with only a single missile and cannon emplacement for weapons.


“Those are Martian Civic Guardians,” Eddie said from the cockpit.


“Yes,” Cronin said. “Three destroyers and five scouts.”


There was a chime from Cronin’s station. “They’re asking for our surrender.”


“They’d have blown us up by now if it wasn’t for the cargo,” Taffy said.


“They’re surrounding us,” Cronin said. “Two destroyers in the front, one in the aft with the scouts covering the other escape routes.”


“I’m stopping,” Reece said, his voice thick with anger.


“Maybe we can negotiate with the trinket we carry,” Tash said.


“They never negotiate,” Eddie said. “I can tell you that from experience.”


“Well,” Mac said. “I guess we’ve had it, lads.”


 


*****





 


Julius looked at the spectacle with some amusement. The Sea Wolf’s sensors could see the small battle that took place under the clouds; the pilots had fared well. Now they faced impossible odds, yet they did not signal their surrender. Perhaps there was some true mettle in them.


“Jared, sensor report,” Julius said.


“Yes, sir. Along with the recruit ship, there are eight Martian Civic Guardian contacts within active sensor range. I show no other active contacts on the scope. Nothing in the stealth shroud either.”


Julius could hear the sound of the bridge doors opening; he turned his command module around to see Laina walk in. She was wearing her usual business attire: clothing that pretty much hid every inch of her skin save for her hands and face. Her face looked drawn and tired. She stumbled into her sub-command chair.


Julius turned his command module back around.


“You look tired,” Julius said.


“A bit too much drink is all,” Laina said, rubbing her forehead. “What’s going on? Where are we?”


“Martian space,” Julius said. “Our recruits have managed to get themselves into trouble; they nearly got away but were blocked off by those Martian Civs.”


“Oh, really?” Laina said. “What did they do—rape another innocent woman?”


“I don’t know,” Julius said, turning his module to look deliberately at Laina. “I was hoping you might know something.”


“Me?” Laina said.


“Sir,” Ramey interrupted. “One of the scouts is closing in on them, looks to be positioning itself to board them.”


“Are we going to help them?” Laina said.


Without answering, Julius moved his command module up toward the holographic images of the ships.


There were three destroyers and five scout class ships. The scouts were maneuverable but not heavily armed. They could not survive a prolonged engagement and were meant to be used for minor skirmishes. The destroyers were a different matter; in a one-on-one battle the Sea Wolf could outmatch them—but three at once ….


Julius turned his eyes to the small ship the recruits had stolen and began to assess its capabilities. The tactical showed it to be an unarmed transport—it was not an asset he could use militarily. Nevertheless, they had surprise on their side and the fact that the transport appeared to be carrying something of value—the Confed would be unwilling to do anything that could destroy it.


Satisfied with his examination, he returned his module to its home position.


“Yes,” Julius finally answered to Laina. “Ramey—go to battle alert.”


The lighting on the bridge darkened and tactical information appeared all around them. Holographic displays appeared depicting shield and weapon status, damage control, and life status for the crew members. The sound of battle drums echoed throughout the ship—Julius had replaced the original siren sound long ago.


“Shields and weapons are ready,” Ramey said.


“Stealth integrity and engines fully functional,” Jessen said.


“Ramey, what’s your guess on the strength of the recruit ship’s hull?” Julius said.


Ramey glanced down at his station then looked up at the holographic image of the recruit ship. “It’s an interplanetary cargo transport, about average hull strength. What did you have in mind, sir?”


“A high-speed slingshot maneuver,” Julius said.


Ramey keyed information into his instruments then thought for a moment.


“The computer says there’s a fair chance it would get torn to pieces.”


“What does your gut say, Lieutenant?”


“They … might make it, sir,” he said.


“I agree. Jessen, take us as close to the recruit ship as possible while keeping us at the edge of the gravity well of Mars.”


“Aye, sir,” Jessen said.


The view around the bridge began to change as the Sea Wolf closed in. As they got close, target reticles appeared over each Martian ship with lettered designations from “A” to “H.”


“Sir, what about fighters?” Garval asked.


It was a good question. He did not have too many pilots on board, and the best ones were stuck in the predicament Julius now tried to solve. Julius hated having Murdock lead the small squadron they did have when he should be handling engineering.


“We’ll make do without them,” Julius said. “We don’t have the pilots to spare.”


“Captain, I can lead what we have,” Garval said. “There’s not much for me to do here otherwise.”


He was right of course. The logical decision was to have Garval lead the squadron and at least create a diversion while the recruits were rescued. The real reason Julius did not want him to go was for fear of losing a good officer, but he could not tell him that.


“Very well, Garval,” he said. “Saddle up.”


“Yes, sir!” Garval said, unable to contain his excitement.


He left his module and headed for the elevator.


“Nothing fancy, Garval,” Julius said.


“Of course, sir,” Garval said as the elevator doors shut.


Julius keyed a command in his module to transfer the tactical operations module functions to his module. A display lit up at his module showing Wolf Squadron in the launch bay. There were only five of them with Garval and most of them were average pilots, but their speed and maneuverability would give them the edge.


“We are in position now, sir,” Jessen said.


“Good. Ramey, do you think they would notice Wolf Squadron sneaking out of the bays?”


“Don’t think so sir,” Ramey said. “Their scans are directed at the recruits’ ship.”


Julius activated his link. “Garval, sneak the squadron out slowly. Position yourselves within striking distance of the scouts. Await further orders once in position.”


“Yes, sir,” Garval said.


“That scout is beginning docking procedures,” Ramey said.


Julius mulled over the situation. The odds were against him, but he still had surprise. Not to mention, most of these Martian Civic Guardians had no space combat experience. There were no other forces in the immediate area. They had more than enough to handle one lone rogue ship, yes, but they would likely call for backup if they saw the Sea Wolf. Julius knew he had some advantages, but he needed to keep them.


“Jared, how good can you jam the communications of all eight ships?” Julius said.


“Hmmm, never tried that many at a time,” Jared said. “But I think I can do it.”


“Tell me when you’re ready.”


“Yes, Captain,” Jared said.


“Jessen, on my command, I want you to swoop us in there and activate a tow beam on the recruit’s ship. Once locked, with all power to engines, take us out of the gravity well as quickly as possible.”


Julius looked at his station display; he could see Wolf Squadron was now in position and undetected. He looked over to Jared, who appeared engrossed in working his station.


“Status, Jared?” Julius said.


“Almost,” Jared said. “I’ve localized their carrier waves and am readying a jamming package to disrupt them. Only thing is, they will effectively disappear from the screens of Mars Traffic Control and Civic Guardian command. That will likely cause some alarm, but not as bad as if they made a call for help.”


“It will do,” Julius said.


As Jared continued to work, Julius waited. There were always standby forces in the system that could jump in within minutes of a distress call. Jamming the communications was always a critical component of their attack plans.


“Jamming package ready, sir,” Jared said.


“Execute,” Julius said.


 


*****


 


The six pilots looked defeated. Tash paced back and forth from the cabin to the end of the main room. Mac casually lit up a cigar he was carrying and began puffing away at it.


“Got any more of those?” Taffy said, hopeful.


Mac smiled. “Sorry, lad. Last one.”


“What I wouldn’t give to be in my fighter right now,” Taffy said. “Can’t believe we can’t even die fighting them honorably.”


“Maybe we’ll get off easy,” Cronin muttered. “Maybe they’ll only be able to match us to our fake IDs. We might get off easy because it’s a first offense on those.”


“Those IDs won’t hold up to scrutiny,” Eddie said. “They’re going to match us to our real records. Then it will be a matter of who wants us the most: the UEP or the Martian Confederacy. We might actually get extradited.”


“Nice to be so wanted,” Mac said.


From the cabin display, they could see one of the scouts approaching them.


“I think they’re going to board us,” Cronin said.


“Can’t be too many in that ship,” Reece mused, rubbing his chin. “Eddie, any idea how many would be in that scout?”


“If my memory is right, about four crew max,” Eddie said.


“Four fat, undertrained, lethargic, donut-chugging cops?” Taffy said, cracking his knuckles. “We can take them.”


“Everyone armed?” Reece said.


They all pulled out their flicker pistols.


“All right,” Reece said. “Eddie, how will they likely come in?”


“They’ll force open the airlock, and drop in nerve gas first. Then they’ll wait a bit and come in with rifles when they’re sure we’re knocked out.”


“How unsporting,” Taffy said.


“Nerve gas. Great,” Tash said.


Suddenly, a flash of light from outside lit up the cabin. They all peered out the forward display to see a stream of cannon fire shooting above and past them in multiple directions.


Reece rotated the view on the display. He followed the outline of Z-33 fighters firing on the approaching enemy scout, sending it into retreat. Before the other enemy ships could compose themselves, the fighter squadron circled around and made a vector to the nearest destroyer, firing cannons and missiles at it. Small explosions blazed across the destroyer as the fighters blitzed across its hull. Reece tried to identify their markings, but they were moving too fast.


“What’s happening?” Taffy said.


“It seems we have some additional company,” Reece said. “Cronin, do you think we could take advantage and try making a run for it?”


“No. The other two destroyers are on point, and the scouts are still around us. They could easily blow us away if we tried.”


Reece looked back out at the melee. The destroyer began to lash out with its cannon fire at the fighters. He could not see any signs of damage on the destroyer; it seemed the fighters could not penetrate the shields of the large ship. The other two destroyers did not budge from their positions, nor did the scouts, indicating they did not take the fighter threat too seriously.


“There must be something we can do,” Reece mused.


“If this damn thing had any weapons, we might be able to get away,” Tash grumbled.


There was a sudden chime at Cronin’s station. He typed in a few commands and looked at the display with a visibly dumbfounded expression.


Reece looked at him. “What is it?”


“A message, but I don’t know from who. It doesn’t make any sense,” Cronin said.


“Well, what’s it say?” Reece said.


“It says: ‘get ready for a ride,’” he said.


At that moment, the ship shook violently, enough to knock those who were standing onto the floor. The lights in the cabin dimmed and Reece could hear the sound of the hull creaking from the sudden strain. Reece managed a look up at the cockpit display, only to see all hell break loose.