Chaos Quarter: Imperial Ambitions Read online

  “Thank you, my love!” he cried and flew to the object of his desire. But she dropped a hand low, halting him inches away.

  “But first, tell me, what are your people going to do when they encounter Baliol’s ship?” she asked, as if lecturing a child.

  “Disable it; bring him to you alive,” he replied obediently.

  “And if he isn’t alive?” she pressed.

  “You…” he began, swallowing back nervously,” You’ll find somebody else to love you.”

  “And you know what that means to you?”

  “Y-yes,” he stuttered, squeezing his eyes shut to drown out the image in his mind.

  “Good,” she replied. “I’ve grown comfortable with our arrangement. I do not wish to go through the trouble of changing it all.”

  He nodded dutifully. She removed her hand, placing it being her head.

  “Go ahead then,” she said. “And don’t disappoint me. I’d hate to be in a bad mood when important things are about to happen.”

  He nodded again and then, with a contented groan, settled into his work.

  ***

  Kerwood paced onto the bridge of Drake, ignoring the glances of his command crew. Half of them had a look of disbelief; the others had looks of jealousy. Kerwood hated the second group, knowing they too had felt Vermella’s warmth around them. Were it not for her warnings, he’d put a bullet through each of their heads. It would wipe the disbelief off the faces of the others, seeing their fellows lying dead in a pool of their own blood.

  But she insisted, and, much as it burned him to imagine any of these brutes being within arm’s distance of his love, he would never go against her wishes. He couldn’t…he couldn’t imagine the pain of her disapproval. So the bastards stayed.

  A clunk ran through Drake as Vermella’s scout ship detached. She hadn’t much of a taste for combat, and he didn’t want to imagine her getting shot apart during the swirling chaos of battle. So she flew away, to wait and watch and stay safe, so she’d be there for him when this was finished.

  Her words echoed in his head. Bring him in alive…not the easiest proposition. He had two corvettes and five fighters at his disposal, an easy numerical advantage. But crippling a ship could be trickier than just destroying it. Getting the shots in the right place meant slowing down and carefully lining up with your target, all while they were shooting at you. And their prey was in a Terran ship coming out of Commonwealth space. The Free Terran Commonwealth knew how to build good ships. Worn-out junk the Terrans had no more use for went for premium prices here in the Quarter. Kerwood had no idea how well armed his quarry would be, but had an uneasy feeling about it all. He’d seen similar Terran freighters at shipyards in the Quarter. They were always stripped before being sold off, and one of the things the Terrans made sure to remove were the automated, defensive gun turrets. He’d seen the holes where the turrets had once sat; all the old Terran freighters had them.

  This ship came from the Commonwealth itself. Which meant it would have those automated guns. The thought made him grumble. How costly would this mission be for his company?

  But the thought of disappointing her filled him with a cold dread. He felt his hand shake slightly just at the idea. When she left…well, it just kind of built up, that cold feeling of dread. And the weight, always pressing down on him, made every movement a chore. The little pleasures went first; the taste of food, next; and then everything just faded until he felt nothing.

  He balled his fists and moved to his command chair.

  “Have they jumped into the system?” he asked.

  His scan technician nodded.

  “Four hours ago. They’re taking a straight line across the system for the nearest jump point,” scan replied.

  “Status of the company?” he asked.

  “Fighters in lead. We’re all systems optimal; Aquil is ready,” his comm guy spoke.

  “Tell Aquil to stay close,” he ordered. “All ships, take out their engines. Disable, don’t destroy. Move in and attack.”

  ***

  “There is something on the scopes,” Second’s voice announced.

  Rex perked up, having been daydreaming as they drifted through the emptiness of Natagoy. They’d seen nothing here so far, just the cooling remains of a brown dwarf and few random asteroids.

  “What are we seeing?” Rex asked.

  “Seven vessels identified,” she said.

  Rex had the holographic sphere floating above his station broadcast the radar image. Sure enough there were seven dots, two larger than the others. And they made no effort to hide. They were approaching dead on, clearly visible, with no attempt at evasion.

  “Fantastic,” he muttered.

  “They seem to be moving with purpose,” Lucius said dimly.

  “Computer, can you make out anything about their ships?” Rex asked.

  “The largest can be identified. It is a large corvette of Aztlani design,” the computer announced.

  “Can you see any of the others?” Rex asked.

  “I can see them, but can give no information. They do not match any known designs,” the computer informed.

  “Probably self-made,” Lucius noted.

  Rex nodded, thinking. Jury-rigged ships were nothing new; everybody in the Quarter seemed to build their own ships out of whatever junk was available. That meant they would be the easier kills should battle result.

  The ship that worried him was the Aztlani vessel, what looked to be the lead. Aztlan was not a Chaos Quarter nation. It was a regional power, built centuries ago by true believers of the old Aztec faith. It’s fondness for sacrificing people hadn’t won it any friends. Right now it was nothing that could challenge the Commonwealth or the empire in terms of power or tech. But it was decades beyond the failed states of the Quarter, which meant he was facing at least one competently designed small warship.

  He frowned at the thought and then adjusted the course slightly, focusing on the lead corvette.

  “How long until they reach us?” Rex asked.

  “Six minutes at current speeds,” the computer replied.

  “Open the ship band,” he ordered. The computer chirped to tell him it had complied. “Jake, we might have some trouble in a few minutes. May need some damage control.”

  The line hissed for a moment and then Jake’s voice emerged.

  “Uh, how bad ‘damage control’?”

  “Don’t know. Stay near the engines,” requested Rex.

  “Right.”

  He turned off the line, focusing back on the viewscreen. He could see seven small dots now, new against the star field. They were growing larger and less fuzzy with each passing second. The lead vessel had a wasp-like shape to it.

  “Signal coming in.”

  Rex nodded again and then shifted in his seat.

  “Prep the missiles,” Rex said. “Four on the big corvette, two on the smaller one. Get me a lock as soon as possible.”

  “All the missiles?” Lucius asked uneasily.

  “They’re Rakes, widely exported. Every spaceport worth its shit has them for sale,” Rex said.

  Lucius frowned and turned back to his station.

  “They’re still signaling, within two-way communications range,” the computer pushed. Rex slowed the ship, bringing them down to combat speed. Their foes matched the move.

  “Open a line. Let’s see what they have to say. Audio only,” said Rex.

  “…approaching vessel, please respond or you will be fired on. I repeat, approaching vessel—”

  “I hear ya,” said Rex. “Who the hell are you now?”

  “This is the Drake Company, and you are now under our authority,” said a confident voice.

  “Drake Company? Does that mean something?” Rex asked.

  He heard the speaker clear his throat, a bit perturbed.

  “You are carrying on your ship a wanted man. Surrender Lucius Baliol to us without conflict, and you will be allowed to go free,” the voice demanded.

&
nbsp; “God, this bullshit again…” Rex grumbled, glancing over at his gunner.

  “At least it is not a frigate this time,” Lucius huffed.

  “We require your immediate response, or my people will attack,” the voice continued. On the screen the fuzzy dots had resolved into the small ships, still distant, but visible.

  “Look buddy, I don’t know who you are or who tipped you off about my friend Lucius, but I swear, I do not have time for this crap. So how ’bout you get out of my way and none of your ‘Drake Company’ die today.”

  As he spoke the words he typed on the touchscreen at his station, sending an order to the computer. A small pop-up box confirmed his order had been received. Smiling, he tapped a panel in the upper left corner of the screen. At that instant, all six of Longshot’s antiship missiles leaped from their cells.

  ***

  “Something fired!” the Scan technician shouted.

  Kerwood leaned forward, waiting.

  “Wait, no…I…I thought something launched off their bow…” Scan muttered, obviously confused.

  “You have nothing on radar?” Kerwood demanded, watching as the freighter in the viewscreen grew larger and more visible. His fighters were breaking from their positions in front of the frigates, moving to surround the approaching vessel.

  “Nothing. I could’ve sworn…no, nothing sir,” scan replied.

  Kerwood sighed. He motioned his Communications technician to reopen a line.

  “This doesn’t have to end in death,” said Kerwood. “This doesn’t even have to interrupt your travels. Just give him to us.”

  He waited for a response. For long moments nothing came. The Terran ship just grew larger.

  “They’re within gun range,” said one of his weapons technicians.

  “Hold until I give word,” Kerwood seethed.

  “They’re speeding up,” said scan. “They’re accelerating straight for us!”

  “What—” Kerwood began, when he heard a crackle of static. The radio came to life.

  “Yeah, Drake Company,” said the Terran commander, “just in case it wasn’t clear, we’re going have to decline your offer.”

  ***

  Rex jammed down with his foot on the accelerator. The ship leaped forward, accelerating to the upper edge of combat speed.

  “Lucius, you’re on the turrets. Keep their fighters away from our dorsal side. That’s your only job.”

  “Got it,” Lucius said, the gun-camera image from the ship’s turrets appearing in the holographic display floating above his station.

  Rex couldn’t help but smile as he shot toward the lead ship. Within a few seconds, he’d be face to face with it, just where he wanted to be. But he had to complete the illusion first, had to make them think he had no missiles, only guns.

  He switched the forward guns to his station and cut loose. Longshot opened up on its enemy with all six thirty-millimeter guns and its two light pulse cannons. Converging trails of fire tore into the lead corvette, each hit, a bright flash, chewing into the ship’s armor. The enemy was game though, firing back with a quartet of thirty-millimeter cannons. For fast seconds the two ships traded fire, looking as if they would slug it out. Around Longshot the Drake Company closed, peppering the ship with lead.

  “We clear above?” Rex demanded as they pulled closer.

  “Clear!” Lucius shouted back.

  Rex jerked straight upward on the steering yoke. In an instant the ship lurched vertically, the whole of its engine exhaust rocketing Longshot above its enemies. The hard-G threw Rex down in his seat, his body weight tripling. But he held on, pushing the ship farther.

  As he did he revealed his ace in the hole to the enemy. The missiles he had fired had not streaked out toward the enemy as per normal. Instead he’d ordered them to trail behind Longshot by a mile or so, matching the ship’s speed. They’d followed the ship in as it barreled toward its enemy, the bulk of Longshot shielding them from any intercepting fire.

  Then Longshot was gone, hundreds of miles above the fray. The missiles found themselves in the open, only a few dozen miles from their prey. They shot forward, closing the short distance in a matter of seconds. The small corvette, Aquil, went first, struck hard by two missiles. Flames rippled through the makeshift vessel, breaking the back of the blocky craft. Huge, jagged shards of metal were torn free, sent hurtling into the space.

  Drake spun hard, and burned to try to get away. One of its turrets spat lead out at the four missiles closing on it, but they were too close and came on too fast. All four hit the old Aztlani corvette. Only one would’ve been needed to destroy such a vessel. In a quick ripple, all four missiles struck home, turning the wasp-shaped ship into an oblong fireball. The flames died quickly in the vacuum, leaving a cloud of debris shooting off in every direction.

  “Trailing missiles,” Lucius said. “Clever.”

  “It’s what I do,” Rex declared proudly.

  “Though if you’d had to slow down suddenly—” began Lucius.

  “We would’ve been hit by our own missiles and destroyed,” Rex said. He shrugged. “Now, I believe we have some fighters to take care of.”

  Lucius smirked and turned back to his display. The five fighters raced toward Longshot, apparently ready for a fight despite the maelstrom they’d just witnessed. Rex wondered if it was just the rush of the moment or if they wanted revenge for their fallen brethren. But then he stopped wondering, because he honestly didn’t care. The bastards were trying to kill him.

  He spun the ship, training the forward guns toward the fighters.

  “Proximity fuse,” he ordered. Inside the ship the solid-shot, thirty-millimeter rounds normally fired were moved aside and rounds with exploding heads slotted into the forward rail-guns. It was a perfect munition for the task. He could see four fighters in a group, opening up on his ship. One of them was carrying a twenty-millimeter gun, capable of doing some damage. They others pelted away with small fifty-caliber machine guns.

  Rex squeezed the trigger and six streams of fire shot out, directly at the main clump of fighters. The rounds exploded as designed, showering the fighters in shrapnel. They broke their formation, chewed up but intact. One darted above the ship, directly into the path of the dorsal turret. Lucius lined it up perfectly in his sights and blasted the ship with a dozen thirty-millimeter rounds, shredding it. The others spun slowly as they flew past the ship, strafing it with fire. The portside turret, on autofire, spewed a few dozen rounds into a fighter, smashing up its front.

  The largest of the fighters, the one with the twenty-millimeter gun, bore in on the underside of the ship. It made for the starboard engine.

  “You see that one?” asked Rex, pelting out a few rounds at another fighter as it streaked past the bow.

  “Of course,” Lucius replied confidently. He switched to the ventral turret. He spun it around, squeezed down on the trigger, and pumped out rounds at the large fighter. He led it perfectly, compensating for its motion. Slugs pounded the front of the fighter, ripping it clear open, exposing its guts to the void. Rex pulled the ship upward as the damaged fighter tumbled onward, clearing Longshot of the wreckage.

  Two fighters remained. They pulled back from Longshot, hovering above the ship just out of the effective range of the turrets. Then they turned and burned away. Rex didn’t know where exactly they were going. Fighters of that size didn’t have jump drives, and the corvettes were both wreckage. But he didn’t care. He watched them disappear, idly wondering if it would be wrong to hope the bastards would be stuck here for a few months. Or years…

  “They seem to have lost interest,” Lucius noted.

  “Yeah,” Rex said and tapped a panel on his station, turning the ship band back on.

  “Jake, you there?” Rex asked.

  “Yeah, I’m here. My stomach went into my throat for a second there,” Jake informed.

  “You and me both. The computer’s not showing any breaches. Would you mind doing a walk-through, make sure we’re n
ot leaking?”

  “Will do boss. Should I assume we won this one?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. Yes, you should,” Rex replied.

  He turned off the line and looked across his bridge. It was then that he noticed a strong, sharp scent. Looking over, he spotted Second under her station, retching—no doubt from the sudden hard-G maneuver. Now that he stopped and thought about it, Rex realized his own stomach was churning pretty hard.

  “You smell that Lu?” he asked.

  Lucius sniffed, and from the look on his face Rex knew that he had clearly picked up the scent.

  “That’s what victory smells like,” said Rex.

  “Hmm,” said Lucius. “Could we perhaps do something about the scent of victory?”

  “Yes. Yes, we should,” Rex echoed. He leaned down taking Second’s arm and helping her to her feet. He wondered for a moment why Lucius wasn’t looking queasy and then remembered the man had once flown a fighter. “Tell you what, you can get right on that. I’m gonna find the nearest bathroom before this place gets even more ‘victorious.’”

  ***

  “Unbelievable,” Vermella said to herself, flying slowly around the wreckage that had once been her personal mercenary force. Half of the Drake Company, legend in this stretch of space, floated lifelessly before her.

  “Unbelievable,” she repeated, shaking her head.

  She pulled her scout ship back again, turning in the direction her target had traveled. She couldn’t see it, but her radar could. She watched the dot on her screen move slowly away, at just over one-tenth the speed of light. Based on their direction, their destination was obvious: Atrebar. It was a short jump away in that direction. Lucky for her she had an asset there, an experienced bounty hunter, bound to her. It wouldn’t take much to get a message off to him, so that if she were unable to get close to Baliol at least one of her slaves would. She didn’t know how much chance he would realistically have, given that Baliol had just destroyed most of the Drake Company, but it was better than nothing.

  A blip on the radar screen caught her attention. Survivors, she realized, quickly closing with her. The two remaining fighters, satisfied their enemy was gone, had come creeping back. They pulled up with her ship.