Proving True
Chapter 31

It’s really hard to not treat this like a camping trip. For the life of me, I want to build a bonfire on the beach and wait for the meteors to start falling. And I’m certain that if such were to happen, someone would start roasting sausages and/or marshmallows. Then the musical instruments would come out. It’s not exactly a tactical environment, but nocturnal creatures, which describes most known predators, are conspicuously curious about things that give off light where there shouldn’t be any. And some of those creatures are very large and perpetually hungry. So there will be no fires.

But then the meteor shower starts. A side effect of being away from civilization is there’s very little light pollution to distract from the universe showing off. The physicists and chemists in the group argue about why the falling rocks have different color trails. The rest of us tune them out, just enjoying the show. The lack of catastrophe should have been my clue that a shoe was on its way down.

“Captain,” Athena’s voice is in my perCom. “There is a ship approximately 400 tons in size one hour from orbit. Should I hail them?”

“By all means,” I reply. “Operation Friendly is in effect. But go to yellow alert just the same. LT Landers and I will be back aboard shortly.”

“Affirmative, Gallagher out.”

I leave the highbrows to their bickering. I’ll have an earful from Shawna by the time we get back to the ship.

She doesn’t disappoint. By the time we get back aboard she has me convinced I’m such a despicable person even I don’t want to hang around me.

“Captain is on the bridge,” Athena states as I enter the control center.

“What do we know?” I ask.

“Very little, thus far they’ve done nothing to acknowledge…”

“Well, hello again Gallagher,” a man’s voice oozes from the speaker grille. “It is so thrilling to see you in space again. Just in case you’ve forgotten, you may call me ‘Grinning Jack Grangiere.’ I do hope you’re in a more favorable mind to discuss your cargo and any large sums of money you may have, I’ll be relieving you of them, of course. Then I’ll be on my way, there’s no need for this to get unpleasant again.”

“They are powering weapons,” Athena informs us.

“Battle stations!” I yell.

“Really?” Jack doesn’t sound impressed. “That’s far from effective, at this range I can easily avoid your targeting lasers, but your drive systems and your one turret will be hard pressed to avoid mine. For all of our sakes, be a dear, heave to, and prepare to be boarded. Trust me, I’ve done this a few times before.”

I look at Athena, she leans in close and whispers to me, “He has four turrets, and as he says they are targeting our maneuver and transit drives as well as our weapon system. We are hopelessly outgunned.”

I whisper back to her, “Oedipus is on the other side of the planet. We don’t know if he knows about them or not. Send them an encrypted message to stay there. They’re essentially a flying bomb and couldn’t help us if they wanted to.” She nods.

“Grinning Jack Grangiere,” Damn you to the deepest hell suspected! “Welcome to Dubus III,” I say in the most diplomatic voice I can manage right now. “I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad news. We are on a research mission, not a commercial one. Therefore, we have no cargo of any interest outside a museum and no money of any consequence at all. So I must agree with you, there is no need for a fight. That being the case, would you power down your weapons, please?” The whole time I’m talking to him, I’ve been typing out a message to Freddie: DEFCON 2, Weapons Tight, prepare all hands to repel boarders. Pass the word. He now knows an attack is imminent, to fire on anything not identified as “friendly” and that he needs to arm up as many people as he can. After sending the message I whisper to Athena, “Send someone to my stateroom, give him or her the combination to my safe. Fetch me the Amulet of the Ancients and the microfilament saber, please.” I see her turn and relay instructions to one of the troopers with the bad luck to be on the bridge right now, Padilla.

“I’m certain that’s the case, my dear,” Jack replies.

I get Freddie’s response: Acknowledged.

Jack is speaking again, “But I’m afraid as I don’t know you, I can’t accept your word on those counts. By the way, what became of Captain…Oh, what was his name…Harmony? Yes, that was it. Captain Harmony, where is he? He seemed a pleasant enough if obstinate fellow. Anyway, I will see for myself, or more accurately, my soldiers will. And as I am a reasonable fellow, I’m sure we can work out a deal. Perhaps there are a few women aboard Gallagher fit to join my harem. And what remains of your crew can be sold as slaves, or likewise inducted to the stable. So you see, Captain, you do have a cargo from which I can profit. And before the subject leaves my mind; to which angel belongs the voice with whom I’m speaking? What distinguishes you from the rest of the chattel?”

“No angel I can assure you of that, you silver-tongued scalawag. I am Captain Sonia MacTaggert. And if that’s the deal you have in mind, I must express a considerable lack of interest. Personally, I’ve yet to meet Mr. Right. Mr. Right Now, him I’ve bumped into a few times. And I don’t think any of the ladies aboard would be interested in departing from their careers just yet.” As usual, my brogue creeps in when I get upset.

“Ah, a—oh, what is the term? —Downlander? Uplander?” he says. “No matter, either way, I’ve heard of you, believe it or not,” Where is Padilla? “I’ll send a shuttle over and…holy flaming balls of Horus!” He shouts, then nothing.

“Captain,” the communication technician says, “the channel was shut down on that end. Wait, he’s hailing us now.”

“Answer,” I direct him.

“All right, now that I know you have a matter transporter, the stakes of our little game have gone up. It appears I’ll be taking it if I can remove it and I’ll take your ship if I can not.”

“What are you talking about?” I bluster, “we’ve no such thing! Why would you say that?” I bet the simple minded twit activated the amulet without knowing it! In fairness, I can’t be too mad at her. It happened to me a few times as well. But now it and my sword are on the wrong ship and DEFINITELY in the wrong hands!

“Come now, Captain,” he has regained his composure. “Miss Padilla I believe her name to be, was a bit disoriented and hence easily overpowered when she literally materialized right in front of me. Did she know she was coming or is she a peace offering? If she’s indicative of the feminine members of your crew, I may be marrying more than one. Well, to be fair, consummating imagined marriages is a more accurate term. Would it be convenient for you to send me some pictures? That might speed things up a bit.”

There’s no way I’m giving in to him, but I need to buy some time. “All right, I’m convinced, you win. We have no hope of winning a fight with you. You leave me no choice but to surrender. Very well, I will send some pictures. But it will take a few minutes to get the pictures separated out, copied and prepared for digital transmission. I’ll contact you again when I’m ready to send them.” I switch the comm off. Athena starts to speak. I silence her with a wave and a “Trust me,” that even I replace hard to believe. This is hard enough when it’s me. And I’ve never tried another person. I fall into my chair. I relax my arms onto the armrests and steady my breathing. I picture Padilla in my mind. I see her face, the color of her hair, the shape of her body, her scent, the size of the pores on her nose, everything I can muster to my conscious mind. Then I picture her standing in front of me on the bridge in three…two…one…now. I hear profanity from my right and open my eyes. Padilla is standing right in front of me with a surprised look on her face. Then she keels over, fainting dead away. The troopers standing watch on the bridge holster their sidearms. Good thing Athena wasn’t packing, she probably would have killed Padilla.

“That Grangiere person is hailing us again,” the comm tech says.

“Answer it,” I say. I’m tired. I need a nap!

“Well played, Captain. Can you teleport armored troopers from your ship as well?”

“That’s not important, Jack.” I answer. “The question you need an answer to is, can we teleport a reactor core from yours? Possibly. But in all honesty probably not. However, I’m reasonably certain we can snatch the shielding away. How long would it take for your ship to flood with radiation, making your systems—and eventually your bodies—useless?”

He pauses. “Good move, Captain.”

“His targeting systems have powered down,” Athena reports.

“I must concede this round to you,” Jack says. “Would you care to join me for drinks and dinner?”

I mute the comm. I pat Padilla’s pockets until I replace my amulet and microfilament saber. They probably need to become parts of my daily uniform. I drop both items into cargo pockets on my APE suit and restore the channel. “Someone take her to medical. She’s sure to need some TLC and psychotherapy.” As one of the troopers picks Padilla up I open the comm channel and laugh mirthlessly, “Let’s replay events, shall we? You approach my ship without announcing yourself—in and of itself aggressive if not technically an act of war—you tell me you want to abduct and enslave any members of my crew you don’t kill, then you threaten to hold one of my crew hostage and now you want to socialize? You have nerve, I’ll give ye that! Let me think on that.” I pause and force a smile. “That sounds like a wonderful plan, sadly my current schedule won’t allow it. Wait for me at the Grand Duke. Make reservations under the name ‘Otis C. Fudpucker’ for let us say two years from last Wednesday. Wear a blue shirt and pink beanie hat. I’ll replace you. Gallagher Actual out.”

Ordinarily, Athena would be reporting on whatever movement the other ship is making, but we’re both looking at the monitor. I can see for myself that he’s moving away, and at a respectable rate of speed.

I turn away and tell the communications technician, “Contact Oedipus, advise them…”

“Contact is turning back,” Athena declares. “His weapons are still charged, his tracking systems are coming back on line!” She said his tracking systems had powered down but she said nothing about the weapons. She didn’t volunteer his weapons status and I didn’t ask. We will definitely have to re-evaluate our SOPs! If we survive!

“All hands!” Athena yells into the comm system. “DEFCON 1, weapons free, condition red, prepare for depressurization!” The telltale click of APE helmets locking into place fills the bridge. The indicator ribbons on the air vents stop moving then reverse direction as air is pumped into the holding tanks.

I seal my own helmet and yell into the comm, “Cannon, fire when you get a lock!” I don’t have to yell. The microphone is millimeters from my mouth! Blasted adrenaline! Yesterday’s maintenance report stated we were able to get a meson cannon installed. Getting it operational was scheduled for today. But circumstances have changed, we’re on the edge of replaceing out if it was done correctly. Four seconds later, the ship is completely depressurized.

Somehow, we’re able to get a shot off first. And it’s from the meson cannon, which performs flawlessly. “Our cannon strike disrupted one of his turrets.” Great news, that means he can only shoot us with three. But it’s better than a complete miss.

The wounded corsair fires from its remaining turrets. Athena reports, “Light ship to ship missiles are inbound.” Moments later Gallagher rocks from the impacts. “One miss, two hits. A minor strike to the vehicle bay. Our Transit drive took a hit and is off line. He is circling around for another pass.”

“Gunnery, this is the Captain. Get that piece of shit out of my sky!”

“Wilco,” replies the deadpan trooper. And his aim is true. The second meson blast strikes the rear of the corsair.

“One turret destroyed,” Athena reports. “A second turret apparently sympathetically erupted. The remaining enemy turret is firing.”

Gallagher rocks under another impact. “His missile has taken our cannon out of the fight. We are unarmed.”

Jack’s voice slithers out of my helmet speakers, “Ready to discuss surrender? I give you the word of a gentleman. If you do not yield, on my next pass I will destroy your engines and life support. You said yourself there’s nothing aboard your ship worth dying for.”

“I never said that. And if you are surrendering to me, I accept. Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded. Otherwise, prepare for a two by four meter section of your reactor containment system to be teleported from where it is—protecting your crew from radiant energy—to where you don’t want it, maybe your medical bay? You continue to make thinly veiled threats about the fate of my crew that make me think your use of the word ‘gentleman’ is an insult to gentlemen throughout the universe.”

“And if I promise to treat you and your crew humanely?”

“You’ve given me no reason to believe you are capable or willing to keep such a promise. I am grateful though that given the time you have wasted in this dance you have no way of capturing Queen Alba Corinna. If nothing else, if none of us survive this encounter, at least she has been teleported to a safe, secure location.” Every eye on the bridge looks to me, all wondering the same thing: Who is Queen Alba Corinna? No idea, I made her up.

There is no answer from Jack. But Athena speaks, “He’s making another run. Missile inbound.” In short order, a missile strikes Gallagher. “Transit drive again, a secondary detonation has degraded our computer capability by half. Hull breaches in sections one and nine.”

Now Jack responds, “How about now, sweet cheeks?” I guess he didn’t buy my bluff.

Freddie’s voice is in my right ear. The flat tone indicates an encrypted signal. “FR14 troopers are in the disabled turret. I’ve got three more we can tether to the hull and let them take pot shots. It may be our dying act, but all of my guys would rather die than be slaves.”

Athena intones, “He’s coming about for another run, much closer and slower. He means to destroy us. He’s targeting the bridge.”

I thumb the encrypt switch and tell Freddie, “Make it happen.” I would like nothing more than to make good on my threat and teleport away a piece of his shielding. But I’ve never seen it and I have no way of replaceing out its exact configuration in time. It would be a complete shot in the dark and right now there are better uses for my concentration. He’s trying to take us more or less intact. Destruction of the bridge will have a minimal impact on the rest of the ship. He wants me to surrender. He has painted us into a corner and not left us an escape route. So the advantage is ours. We have to go through him. So be it. He probably hasn’t read many of the classics on military strategy and theory.

The great thing about man portable weapons is they can usually be aimed faster than their mechanical hydraulic assisted counterparts. Jack’s corsair makes a low, slow pass overhead, apparently waiting to fire on the bridge until range is point blank and taking any guesswork out of his targeting. Freddie’s FR14 troopers couldn’t ask for a better target. The ones from the disabled turret and those tethered to the hull have a point blank target just begging for incoming fire—such as open missile bay doors—and they are happy to oblige. The aft half of the corsair is engulfed in a huge plasma explosion. The corsair instantly goes dark and begins to drift before his missile can launch.

“Cap’n,” Freddie says, “unless you say otherwise, I, Cooper and Black will shuttle over there and finish killing those sonsabitches.”

“SLAP, SarMajor.” I’m doing it now! “And if that jackwagon is still alive, you may indulge yourself in emasculating him before you put two in his brain housing unit. But don’t rush anything on my account. Your only limit is your imagination.”

“Roger.”

I turn on the allCom, “Damage reports to the XO!”

Reports come streaming in to Athena’s station. I ask her, “Casualties?”

“Surprisingly light. One death, Adrienne Tucker; two wounded, Lieutenant Landers and Engineer’s mate Orson McPherson.”

“Lead the damage control effort.”

“Yes, Captain. To that note, multiple hull breaches, damage to the main computer, transit drives and power plant. I have sealed off the appropriate sections and will repressurize the rest of the ship.”

Freddie is calling again. “Do you want that ship for any reason? That will tell me how much restraint to employ.” I look at the status board. Their shuttle hasn’t left yet.

“Not in and of itself, but hold fast. I’m coming with you. I have a bit of rage to work off and the aforementioned jackwagon will make an excellent practice dummy.”

“Captain,” Athena begins, “I do not recommend that course of action. At this time we don’t know anything for certain about the enemy vessel or the composition of its crew, much less their capabilities.” Air flows back onto the bridge.

I hate it when she’s right. “All of that is true. But I’m leading a scavenger trip. That bastard is a pirate, pure and simple. We need patching material and tools at a minimum. And whatever he’s stolen is up for grabs. Fair is fair.”

“Even so…” she begins. I stop her with an upraised finger.

“XO, you have the bridge. I have advised you of where I am going and what I will be doing when I get there. My decision is not subject to discussion. I will, as always, take great steps to assure my safety as well as that of the excursion party.” Without taking my eyes off her, I open the comm channel to Freddie, “And if everyone isn’t in marauder armor, they need to be. I’m on my way and will suit up when I get there.”

“Roger that, ma’am,” he answers. “We are preparing one for you now.”