DusktoDust_Final3 Read online

  “I’m down to five zoomies, right now,” Castle said. “Should have them cleaned up in the next thirty seconds. No more inbound.”

  David nodded. They would be in the range of the cruisers missiles just inside of one hundred kilometers. The plot said their course would take Catalyst right under the belly of capital ship. He peered out the viewport hoping to see a glimpse of the behemoth with no luck. They were still too far out to get visual contact.

  “I’ve got new contacts to our front,” Alana reported.

  “Missiles?” Castle asked.

  “No, ten Peacekeeper gunboats.”

  Castle turned to David. “Is this part of your little plan?”

  Castle’s attitude was wearing David’s patience, but he resisted lashing back. “Range to target?”

  Alana read from her console. “Fifty and closing fast…That’s weird. They’re in missile range but they aren’t firing.”

  That confirmed David’s assumption. The PKs were trying to capture Catalyst in one piece. The gunboats would likely wait for close in shots and aim for the transport’s engines. David could see them coming in, a blob of grey closing at over two kilometers per second. The blob soon turned into ten distinct specs arranged in a circle.

  Wait. “Alana, are those boats in flat formation?”

  A check of the plot confirmed it. “Shit,” she exclaimed. “It’s a net.”

  David could see it now, blue lines of energy running between the gunboats. It was an EM net and it would fry the electronics of any ship that passed through it. “That’s why they aren’t firing.” David grabbed the yoke tight. “Hold on.”

  He pushed down and the ship dropped. They needed to get under the enemy gunboats. The gunboats countered his maneuver, though, widening their dispersion, increasing the size of the net.

  “Castle, take out the bottom two gunboats right fucking now!” The enemy ships were so close now that David could almost make out their stubby wings. If Castle didn’t act fast he would be able to wave to the pilots.

  “Any day now would be nice!” They were five kilometers away now. Only a few seconds… It was going to be close.

  Four missiles streaked across Catalyst’s viewport, exploding the two bottom most gunboats. With their destruction the bottom portion of the EM net flickered and dissolved.

  “That’s a kill!” Castle yelled in celebration.

  The transport streaked under the other gunboats, barely missing the net. “Good job, Castle.” As much as David hated the man, he had just saved their asses. “But we’re not out of this yet. Alana?”

  “We’re in range of the cruiser’s missiles. Sixty klicks out but she’s not firing. You were right.”

  There was no time to congratulate himself. “Distance to the launch?”

  “Three eighty. That little maneuver cost us a little distance.”

  The maneuver had also given them a straight line to the launch point. They would no longer have to go around the cruiser. “Pour all the power from the weapon systems into the engines. We shouldn’t need them anymore. No way those boats keep up with us.”

  With a few adjustments, Alana had Catalyst flying at over a kilometer and a half a second. The distance to the launch point was closing quickly. In a matter of seconds they were past the cruiser.

  Alarms went off in the cockpit. “Contact!” cried Alana.

  “More fighters?” guessed David.

  “No, the cruiser’s launching missiles.”

  Castle snickered. “There goes your theory, Carpenter. Thank you for killing us.”

  No, it makes sense. We got past their last line of defense. They’d rather have us dead than not at all. “Can we make it, Alana?” They needed to make it to the launch point before the missiles reached them.

  Castle interrupted. “Wait. You can’t launch from this speed. What if you’re off?”

  “Then I guess you won’t have time to kick my ass.” If the launch point for hyperspace was off by even half a kilometer a ship risked being tragically and lethally off course. At the speed Catalyst was going, hitting their launch point correctly was going to be tough.

  Alana completed the calculations. “We can make it, but it’s going to be close.”

  Castle continued to protest. “No, you’ll never do it. You can’t launch from this speed.”

  “If we slow down, we are all dead.” That seemed to shut the lieutenant up. “Alana, prep the charge and start the countdown.”

  “Already on it, D.” She went to work loading the Klyston charge into the ship’s blast dish. “Charge prepped. Launch in nineteen seconds. Missiles twenty three klicks out.”

  David grabbed the PA microphone. “Everyone get to a restraint chair right now. We’re jumping to hyperspace in fifteen seconds.” David took a moment to pull his crash webbing down. Hopefully everyone got to a seat. If not he would be cleaning dead trooper off of the bulkhead later.

  “Ten seconds, eleven klicks.”

  This was going to be close. David placed his hand over the Klyston detonator.

  “Five, four, three, two, one, MARK!”

  David punched the red button. At the rear of Catalyst, a spark ignited a two ton Klyston fueled charge. The explosion expanded at over one hundred feet per millisecond, rocketing the transport forward into the depths of space.

  Immediately, David felt his entire body crush into the pilot’s chair. The sensation lasted for a few seconds and then everything was quiet. For the first time in what seemed like hours all that could be heard was the soft hum of the ship’s systems. Somehow, against all odds they had made it through. David let out a long sigh.

  “Very good, Mr. Carpenter.”

  David looked behind him. He had almost forgotten that Mr. Black was in the cockpit. Through the entire chase the man had not said a word.

  “Thank you,” David said, caught off guard.

  The older man began unhooking his chair restraints. “I can now see that your references were not lying. You are indeed an excellent pilot.” The man acted like they had just gone through a sim. “I am glad. It would have been a shame if you had failed.”

  David didn’t know if the man was referring to dying in a ball of flame or having to kill the smugglers because they had failed to complete the contract. David couldn’t decide which was a worse fate.

  Castle stood up and made his way to the door. “Yeah, not bad, Carpenter. Sir, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go check on my men.” Mr. Black gave him a nod and then the lieutenant was gone.

  “Mr. Carpenter, I am going to retire to my quarters. Please compile a damage report. Windcorp is very interested in the status of this shipment.”

  “Only a few missiles got in close enough to be a threat,” Alana interjected. “And they were targeting the engines.”

  That was not the answer Mr. Black wanted. “Nevertheless, I would like to see a report.” He turned and headed out the door. David stopped him.

  “Mr. Black, I think we have a bigger problem.”

  The man looked back at him quizzically. “Oh, and what is that?”

  “The Peaks knew we were coming. There were more ships in the sky today than I’ve ever seen. And they weren’t trying to shoot us down. They were trying to capture us. On top of that, the only reason they found us was because one of our jammers went offline. I’m going to check but I’m willing to bet it didn’t go offline because of mechanical failure.” David paused before he stated the next fact. “You have a spy, sir, and he is on this ship.”

  Mr. Black did not respond immediately. The accusation was bold. “If this is true, it is very troublesome.” There was genuine concern in his voice. “Please let me know what you find out about the jammer, and if there are any other mysterious problems with the ship. For right now I need to take some time to decide what to do with this information.” He gave both David and Alana a disturbing glance. “And please keep this conversation between us.”

  “Of course, M
r. Black,” David responded. Even if they had anyone else they trusted on this ship, David would not dare cross Black.

  A slap across Letsego’s face brought him around.

  “What the hell!” he said surprised. He bolted upright, immediately regretting the rapid movement. “Ooooh,” he cried in agony, his hands flying to his head. His forehead throbbed and he could feel a large bruise.

  “Take these.”

  Letsego looked up to see Chavez holding a pair of pills. Without asking any questions, he took them and choked them down without any water. “What happened?” he asked when he was done.

  “You tell me,” Chavez said. “We found you knocked out on the deck outside the cabin.”

  Letsego held his head again. “Must have gotten knocked out during the flight.” He looked around at his surroundings. “Where am I?”

  “Med bay.” Chavez took a seat on a chair across from Letsego’s bunk. “You’re lucky we found you. If we hadn’t gotten you strapped in before the launch you’d probably be a big bag of pulp right now.”

  Launch? “We’re in hyperspace?!” Letsego tried to control his surprise.

  Chavez nodded. “Yeah. The Peaks dropped the whole fleet on us, but that pilot we have is pretty good. It wasn’t easy but he gave them the slip. I’ll have to buy him a drink when I have a chance.”

  Letsego flopped back onto his bed. “Yeah, me too,” he said with all the enthusiasm of a funeral.

  He had failed. Even after an act of sabotage, Carpenter had gotten past the Peacekeepers. Strangely, the first thought Letsego had was that Captain Burleigh was going to have his ass. The man was lightyears away and still driving him mad.

  17: Two Wolves in the Hen House

  Everything was going terribly.

  David racked his brain but he couldn’t think of another time, either in his military or smuggling career, where the situation had been so royally screwed. From the way the run had begun, he probably should have expected it. Nothing had gone right and it was entirely his fault. He should have listened to Alana and never taken the contract with Windcorp.

  Now, because of him, they were hurtling through hyperspace on a ship that was not their own, carrying an unknown cargo. The Peacekeepers had likely flagged both of their files, so the next time they stepped on any civilized world they would be arrested and shipped off to Europa. On the ship they were accompanied by a sociopathic Windcorp executive and a squad of troopers led by a man who hated David completely and had a fetish for torture.

  And one of these passengers was a saboteur. David had confirmed it. Someone had physically pulled all of the wires out of the Wavebow. And through all this, the only person David had to back him up was Alana. These were the facts.

  At least there was some good news, if you could call it that. Once Mr. Black had accessed the launch point coordinates in the nav computer, David now had full access to their flight plan. It didn’t give him hope for their future.

  They were headed to the Sontour Belt, better known throughout the colonies as just the Belt. It was an asteroid field in the middle of nowhere, lightyears away from any star. David had no idea how it had been discovered, but it had been a hot spot for mining for a few decades. Now it was just a haven for raiders and outcasts. David was not enthusiastic about visiting it for the first time and had more than one question about what interests Windcorp had there.

  These were the thoughts and troubles that filled David’s mind. He was in the cockpit, half dozing in the pilot’s chair, with the gray glow of hyperspace filling the viewscreen. He was alone. He and Alana had been splitting eight hour watches. It didn’t take much of a crew to fly a ship while in hyperspace. You just needed someone breathing who could react if there were any in-flight issues.

  A day and a half into the journey and David was still on edge. He hadn’t been able to completely sleep, either in his bunk or while on shift. He couldn’t help but keep one eye open. Someone on the ship was the enemy, or at least more of the enemy than anyone else on board.

  David’s half hearted snoozing was interrupted by an alarm on the console. Slowly, he sat up and investigated the nuisance.

  When he saw what the alarm was he frantically picked up the PA microphone. “All hands! All hands! Commencing emergency drop in thirty seconds. Get to a chair and strap in right now or suffer the consequences. I repeat, everyone get to a restraining chair now!”

  He tossed the handset down and strapped himself in. The alarm had been for the hull energy shields; they were overheating. If they were forced to shut down any speck of space debris would tear right through the thin skin of Catalyst and turn her into a spectacular fireball in the middle of hyperspace.

  David pulled up the hyperspace controls. He had to drop the ship before the shields failed. He prepped the inertial dampeners for emergency activation. In fifteen seconds they were ready.

  He picked up the handset again. “Emergency drop in five, four, three, two, one.” He activated the dampeners and five seconds later Catalyst’s viewport was once again filled with the comforting view of the stars.

  Alana was the first one to reach the cockpit. “What happened?” she asked, rushing for her station.

  David was scanning through system diagnostics. “The shields were overheating.” He didn’t like the reports he was reading. “Man the cockpit. I need to get to the engine room.”

  He moved quickly down the corridor. Half way to the engine room he ran into Castle and Mr. Black.

  “What the hell happened, Carpenter?” Castle demanded.

  “I had to drop before the hull’s energy shields overheated,” he explained to the two of them. “I’m trying to figure why it happened now.”

  “Is this a normal occurrence, Captain?” Mr. Black asked.

  David understood where he was going with this. The saboteur. “It’s not unheard of,” David answered cautiously.

  The man seemed to understand his meaning. “Very well. Report back to me when you know the source of problem.” He turned to Castle. “Lieutenant, please take full accountability of your men. Ensure they were not injured in the drop.”

  David left the two men and continued to the engine room. Once there, he searched for the energy shield generator. He had not lied to Mr. Black. Shield generators did have a tendency to overheat in hyperspace. David just doubted that the generator on Catalyst had overheated. Like the rest of the components on the ship, it was brand new.

  It wasn’t hard to find the generator. It was right above a puddle of orange fluid. Upon inspection, David’s fears were confirmed. He pulled out his communicator.

  “Alana.”

  It took her a few seconds to answer. “What’s up, D?”

  “The coolant line to the shield generator’s been cut.” He let that sink in. “It’s gonna take a little time to fix, but I think I can handle it. I figure about an hour.”

  “You sure you don’t need any help?”

  As much as he wanted her back here to watch his back, he needed her in the cockpit. “I’ll be fine. But while you’re waiting go ahead and program a code into the engine room door. I’ve had enough of this interference.”

  He went to work fixing the generator. The device had definitely been tampered with. The coolant line had been cut clean. Only a knife could have done that. He was going to have to have another conversation with Mr. Black after this. Someone really didn’t want this shipment to get through.

  Letsego returned to the passenger cabin a few minutes after the emergency drop. When he had heard Carptenter’s broadcast he had made his way to the nearest restraining chair, which happened to be in the head. Once they were back to sublight speeds he rushed back to the rest of the squad, entering the cabin just ahead of Lieutenant Castle.

  “Get me a head count now,” the man ordered. He looked around at the handful of troopers in the cabin. “Where’s Staff Sergeant Chavez?”

  The senior sergeant stood up. “He left before the drop, sir.” />
  “Well, go find him,” Castle said impatiently. The sergeant grabbed two other troopers and left in search of Chavez. Castle eyed the remaining men. “Was there anyone else not in here when the drop happened?”

  A private pointed a finger at Letsego. “Johnson just got back before you, sir.”

  Castle approached Specialist Johnson. “Where were you?”

  “Just went for a walk, sir,” Letsego said with a straight face. “Wanted to stretch my legs.”

  “Well next time take someone with you. I don’t need you getting knocked out again.” He looked at the other troopers. “Anyone else missing?”

  “No, sir,” a corporal answered. “Just staff sergeant.”

  A minute later the Windcorp executive entered. “Do you have everyone, Lieutenant Castle?”

  “All except one, sir. My men are out looking for him. I’m sure he’s okay.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Staff Sergeant Chavez. I’m sure he made it to a chair.” The executive nodded. He didn’t seem to care whether Chavez had made it to a chair or not. “What’s going on with the ship, sir?” Castle asked.

  The executive seemed distracted. “The crew has found the problem and are repairing it as we speak. We should be underway in an hour.” Then, as abruptly as he had arrived, he exited the cabin.

  There was something wrong with the Windcorp executive. Since takeoff, he had acted anything but normal, but this was the first time Letsego had seen him act concerned. The man knew that there was something duplicitous going on. Letsego would have to be careful.

  David was nearly finished replacing the cut coolant hose when he got the call.

  “D… D, come in.”

  David pulled out his communicator. “What’s up, Alana?” he mumbled, holding a wrench in his mouth.

  “Are you on the long range?” she asked, referring to the interstellar communications system.

  “No, why?”

  “Because the console up here is saying that there is a call open.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” David had checked. There were only three places someone could make a call on that system; the cockpit, the engine room, and the…