Amethyst

[Harlock]

Another from the Archives, an original setting for a series I might one day do more with






1


So what is the best way to describe space? Bleak, desolate maybe? Intractable sounds impressive and the sort of word that makes people wonder. Hollow, devoid, unfathomable.
“For heavens sake, just say ‘big’ and move on!”
April Conroy shot an icy look across the plastic veneered top of the table she was hunched over, her data pad painting a pale blue sheen over her classically attractive and intensively maintained features.
“Well thanks Pete, that’ll really capture the imaginations of the readers.”
Opposite her Peter Muller held his dimly amused expression. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, it’s only an introduction.”
“You grab a reader within one paragraph.” She said in chastisement. “I need it right or nobody will bother reading the rest of the story. So be helpful or be quiet.”
“My advice,” he shrugged. “Look out the window.”

Reluctantly April heeded his words, glancing to the clear oval window on her left and the reachless dark beyond. It was such a flimsy barrier holding space outside, or more accurately keeping the breathable atmosphere of the Clipper in. When she took the time to examine it the reality of how mankind had not only expanded into this far realm, but how to a great extent he had actually conquered it made her feel quite tiny.
Reclining in her business class seat with a Martini on the table in front of her and a surprisingly delicious Spaceline meal working through her stomach April felt amazingly relaxed even though she was literally inches from death. It was so normal, such an unremarkable part of modern life commuting through Space didn’t really mean much anymore.

Her eyes lazily skipped from distant star to distant star until finally she settled her gaze and the matt red orb they had been heading towards for the last week. The surface of Mars seemed to rise as the Clipper rolled on its long axis, the dark patches of cold deserts mottling the surface in the same way the green and yellow continents of Earth did the same thing.
There was a chime in the cabin as the internal speakers activated.
“Ladies and Gentlemen this is your Captain. We are entering Mars orbit and will be docking at Ares Station within fifteen minutes. On behalf of United Spacelines I’d like to thank you for travelling with us and hope to see you all again soon.”

“Nice of him.” Pete remarked.
“You know he’s just reading a script.”
“Well we’re here on time, and that lunch was pretty good for a Clipper flight.”
April had to agree with that, Clippers were fairly small craft carrying a thousand or so passengers relatively short distances. In this case the United Clipper April and Pete were onboard was the final changeover on a two week long journey from Earth. The bulk of the journey had been undertaken on a vast relatively luxurious Liner weighing in at a hefty five million tons. Ships like her were becoming more and more common as the shipping companies found the deep range space travel market continuing to expand in the Twenty Second century.
The larger ship had unloaded the passengers destined for Mars onto the Clipper, picked up a few more from the Red planet, then continued on its journey all the way out to Jupiter for a sight seeing cruise of the mighty world.

“What time is it now?” April’s mind sorted through the day’s itinerary.
“Ten to Eleven.” Pete replied. “Which means we can get lunch before the first interview of the day.”
April laughed mildly. “This had better be worth it, we’re taking a long time out on this one.”
“Well you put in the effort, you get the reward.” Her companion said with a smile. “You never know, this could be that Pulitzer you get all misty eyed about.”
April answered with a huff. “Carlos just wants me as far away from him as possible after that thing with the Senator and the call girl.”
“Aww come on, what gave you that idea?” Pete jokingly taunted. “Just because we boldly go where no news team has ever gone before…”
“You make it sound like an adventure.” The woman remarked absently. “This is a punishment.”
“So all the better chance to show them exactly what you are made of.”

April Conroy was a net reporter for the prestigious New York Times, one of an up and coming new breed of reporters who hearkened back to the old image of hard nosed News Paper men and women doggedly hunting down stories.
In recent years the news had become bland and full of opinionated and overly smug reporters and editors who simply pursued their own agendas. It was rare just to have facts presented and more often than not the populace was presented a biased opinion presented as fact. Across Earth and its holdings there was a steady undercurrent of dissatisfaction with this state of affairs, something April had tapped into.

Her very second story for the New York Times had been a world wide break, the uncovering of a scandal involving a highly placed United States Senator and a Call Girl who it turned out had some connections to the Chinese embassy.
It had shot April to global fame and gained her a healthy measure of respect in her industry and with the public in general, however her Editor Carlos Rodriguez was less impressed. The owners of the New York Times were major contributors to the Senators election campaign and were sympathetic to his policies. After the scandal the Senator was forced to immediately resign and submit to Federal investigation meaning any hope of him achieving higher office was dashed.
This meant the News paper owners had wasted millions of dollars supporting this man, and held Janet personally responsible. Something her Editor expressed in not so subtle terms.
That, she concluded, was why she was going to be sent on a two months or more round trip to Saturn and beyond. She was livid.
To add insult to injury it wasn’t even going to be on an American ship.

“I still say they are doing this to us on purpose.” She grunted unhappily.
“Course they are, so enjoy it and that’ll really piss them off.”
She shrugged. “So why the Brits?”
“Huh?”
“Why are we doing a story on the British Navy?”
“Well first it’s Royal Navy, not British Navy.” Pete corrected. “Get that right or you’ll be walking back to Earth.”
“Fine, so why the Royal Navy?”
“Because there’s a public interest in it.” Her companion said simply. Pete was both her producer and recorder, the man responsible for providing her the medium to get her story across to whoever cared to read it. Usually that involved a video recorder, a palm sized device able to record holographic images and their associated sounds for download to the Sol-net, the twenty second century’s evolution if the old internet.
Sol-net had more or less replaced the old forms of media combining television, cinema, libraries, news agencies and the internet into one multipurpose portal available across the solar system, though owing to the distances there could sometimes be a hell of a time lag.
The man who had invented the high capacity data feeds that enabled the network to be created had become the richest man in human history, until he was murdered by one of his jealous children.

“Why is the American public interested in the British… Royal Navy?”
“Because it represents a large and uncommitted space fleet as part of the European Union, and the American public would like to know where they stand.”
“You mean with us or China?”
“Yeah, though I’d guess in the neutral ground in the middle like nearly everyone else.”
The developing competition between China and the United States was the principle subject of almost every news story for the last decade. Some called it scare mongering or sensationalising a mediocre situation, but every time someone decried it there was still that undercurrent of a threat.
America had been an early proponent of space expansion and one of the original ‘Big Three’ space players with Russia and the Europe Union. To that club China and India eventually joined, along with Japan and after a time South East Asia in general.
While most people considered space big enough for everyone China and America had often tried claiming each other’s territory resulting in some near misses as warships occasionally faced off and forced one side or the other to back down.
The situation in April’s view was getting more and more tense, and she like everyone else wanted to know where the rest of the world stood.

That place was on the fence, with India, Russia and the rest firmly neutral. The only real support for America came from Japan within Oceania, and that was mostly because they had the world’s biggest army and air force right in their back yard.

The shadows streaming from the windows shifted as the Clipper rotated, rolling on its axis as it made its approach to the main civilian station over Mars, the multinational Ares facility. As it did so the blackness beyond turned rusty red, the curve of the Red Planet rising majestically into view beside them.
“Not a sight you see everyday.” Pete spoke with genuine awe. “We’ve had people down there for a century, but it’s still something unbelievable. Chills me just thinking about it.”
She quickly typed down a few points. “Not bad, I think I can use that.”
“That was me speaking from the heart.” Pete said with a sideways glance.
“That’s what will make it so good to open with.” April said plainly. “Are we there yet?”
“Sweeping in now, plenty of traffic today.”
April looked briefly out and saw a few other ships, sleek passenger vessels sharing airspace with lumbering dirty coloured mining vessels. The great freighters weren’t pleasing to the eye, ugly industrial ships built for efficiency and not aesthetics, yet they carried in their bulbous bellies the lifeblood of the modern world, the raw materials and fuels crucial to the sustenance of society.
She paid them little attention, but Pete drew her eyes to one in particular.
“Look at that one, there.”

She followed his indication, catching sight of a particularly large and grotesque vessel with cargo pods bursting from its hull like parasites.
“What about it?”
“She’s Chinese.” Pete said. “And look at her flanks, she’s taken hits from something.”
April was having a hard time picking out the signs of deliberate abuse on the unlovely ship. “Really?”
“Yeah, laser hits.” He said. “Some missiles too. Our buddies in Paris ran a story about merchant ships getting hit by Mercs, a lot of them working for US companies.” He grunted. “Eliminating the competition.”
“I thought that was the Chinese doing that, taking out US ships?”
“Maybe both countries are neck deep in it, do you trust our own Mega-corps?”
“We’ve run enough stories on corruption and greed, wouldn’t surprise me at all.”
Pete nodded. “Looking out there I’d say it was for real. Just be glad Ares is still a free port, I wouldn’t want to travel through Chinese space in an American ship right now.”
“Amen to that.”

Ares station was vast, an old orbital station that had grown exponentially over decades. It had started as a ring shaped station with a two hundred metre diameter spinning to simulate gravity. When artificial gravity was cracked motion was no longer required to simulate an Earth like environment and the station was stopped, becoming the fixed heart of a titanic network of docking bays, loading piers, lounges, promenades, shops, massive arrays of sensors and communication antennas and even a few research labs
At last count its maze of facilities sprawled over twenty miles in each direction from the core, thin slabs of metal and latticework glinting in the reflected light of the Martian surface. Within its steel arms thousands of people lived and worked, most were from Mars but plenty had come from the nations of Earth. It was no secret tensions were growing at home, and those tensions were reflected in growing outbursts and petty violence within the station itself. The administration tried to keep it neutral ground, but it wasn’t working.



The white clipper ship curled gently into its docking area, two rectangular prongs jutting from the spider web of Ares, stubby fingers lined with airlocks, tension cables and boarding tubes poised and eager to ensnare the passenger vessel and drain the tourists from its body. She was a graceful vessel, practical but also designed to be aesthetically pleasing. The deep space cruise industry was a deceptively cut throat business, a reality which would seem out of place considering their services. To April’s mind it was like a gang of effeminate hairdressers trying to slaughter each other with curling irons and bottles of Frizz-ease. Yet for all their fluffy appearances, cheesy entertainers and artistic looking ships the companies behind the enterprises were some of the largest mega corporations in existence and seized every possible advantage in the struggle for more cash. One such advantage was to have a ship which looked sexy on a holo vid.
The ship moved easily between the docking pylons, articulated armatures extending to grasp coupling points on the cruise ship as the gravity drives pushed against the station like a cushion gradually reducing resistance like an athlete swimming in treacle. With barely a single shudder the Clipper came to a halt and was successfully snared by the stations robotic embrace.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain. Once again thank you for travelling with United Spaceways and we hope you enjoyed your voyage. Please disembark from the starboard, that is right side, airlocks and proceed along the designated customs channels into the station itself. For those travelling on to the Reagan Mid-point complex or Jupiter we will be departing at Nine tomorrow morning giving you a whole evening to enjoy the cosmopolitan delights of this orbital metropolis. Please have a pleasant stay.”
“Very accommodating kind of guy ain’t he?” Pete began to gather his things. “He must have been doing it for a while, I could barely tell he was reading a script.”
“Another wannabe news caster.” April rolled her eyes, glaring at the wall of dull metal now dominating the view from her window. Her eye picked out imperfections, uneven surfaces, scorch marks from retro thrusters fired too close by some previous occupant of the alcove. None of it was even remotely interesting to her.
“We’ve got a little time before we meet our first interview, want a drink?”
She raised her eyes to her companion with a mildly accusing stare.
Pete broke into a wide knowing grin. “Not that sort of a drink, just as friends.”
“In that case, yeah.”
“We’ve spent so long together we’re like a married couple anyway.” The man beamed. “Only reason I haven’t dumped you is because I get paid too well.”
“And only reason I haven’t fired you is that you make me look good on Camera.” She retorted. “You’re too cheerful.”
“And you’re too whiny.” Pete responded by rote. “Jack Dee?”
“Make it a Cognac.” She pushed herself out of her seat. “I’ll need it, I’d forgotten how boring space is.”

The two news crew members gathered their bags and headed for the airlock, having packed earlier in the day they didn’t bother returning to their cabin and beat a swift retreat to the exits. They strode down the thick carpet leading to the airlock, once again soaking up the sumptuous décor and extravagance lavished on the ship. For those stepping aboard it was a grand first impression that physically inflicted awe on the impressionable and pandered the egos of the new upper classes who imagined they deserved such finery. At its root it was of course just one more marketing strategy. So was the steward who bade them farewell, thanking them yet again for choosing to fly with United Spaceways, a subsidiary of Errol Corp.
Pete politely gave him a smile and a tip while April just mumbled something unintelligible, caught up in her own growing rain cloud of annoyance with lightning flashes of anger. She was being punished for doing her job, which was both wrong and unfair on a level of cosmic proportions. The amount of work, good fortune and clever investigation she had put in was far more than any other reporter would bother with, her colleagues were too lazy for their own good and made a living taking whatever piece of crap crossed their path and then blowing it up to make a story. It wasn’t journalism, it was sensationalism, and most of it was utter rubbish. Of course provided the reporters used the words ‘Allegedly’ or ‘According to sources’ nothing ever came of it. The industry was a farce, and April wasn’t having it. Unfortunately no good deed goes unpunished.
The lush red flooring of the Clipper transformed into flat non slip fabric as they left the warmly lit ship and entered the neon glow of the boarding tube. The long snaking tunnel stretched a hundred yards from station to ship secured at both ends very tightly. Never the less a lot of people found it the worst part of any journey, the closest they would ever come to the harsh vacuum of space itself. Fears of the tunnel breaching, or the clamping seals splitting was quite common especially among the older generation, not helped by several of April’s fellow journalists massively over hyping the risks to draw in ratings. She was so lost in her own world of accusations and recriminations she barely noticed, stepping onto the station before she even knew she was off the ship.

“Good Morning Madam.” A cheery middle aged man offered enthusiastically. “Welcome to Ares Station, and good morning to you also sir.”
“Good to be here.” Pete returned happily, a sentiment April wasn’t about to echo.
“Can I ask you to step through the scanner please, this will only take a minute.”
The man wore the uniform of the European Coast Guard with responsibility for handling customs and excise duties across European sovereign territory. While technically not a coast the station was European property and was classified in much the same way as any city back on Earth or any planetary colony. The Coast Guard also provided officers at air and seaports continent wide as well as the grand space ports like this one, operating with local Police Forces to handle security and detect any law breakers trying to peddle their way into the EU.
Pete went first, walking up to an archway and stepping through, bags in hand before waiting on the other side. The Customs officer checked a small security monitor beside the arch with a keen stare before nodding in apparent approval.
“And you Madam?”
April followed suit, walking through with a mild slouch like a sulky teenager before halting beside Pete.
“Excellent, the scans show you have no contraband or dangerous items.” He said with the fervour of a game show host awarding a prize. “It also confirms your biometric data, your hotel has been informed of your arrival and you have six messages waiting for you at the front desk.”
“Oh. Great.” April grunted moodily. “Our Editor doing his job. ‘Are you there yet? Did you get the interview? Don’t miss the ship!’ Bastard weasel man.”
“So we’ll be going now.” Pete forced a smile, steering April away and pointing her down the docking arm toward the station itself.
“One moment, one of the messages is flagged.” The officer called after them. “From an Admiral Bradford, he confirms your meeting at fourteen hundred hours.”
“Can you acknowledge that for us? We’ll be there!” Pete replied as he pushed April with one hand and dragged his case with the other. “Thanks!”
“Enjoy your stay!” The Customs man added with the same smile.
“Thanks again!” Pete returned. “Nice guy don’t you think?”
“Why does Carlos keep treating me like a bad child? He doesn’t have to keep checking up on me?” April whined.
“You pretty much ruined the ambitions of his best friend, and cost him some major bribes…I mean contracts.”
“This is just so unfair.”
“It’s an opportunity.” Pete answered jovially. “Treat it as such.”
“Stop being so annoyingly positive! It’s getting scary.”
“You, Booze, now.”


Three hours later April was drunk. Technically she’d been drunk after just thirty minutes, every other drink since then had simply been icing on the cake.
“Look on the bright side, look on the bright side!” She slurred, head lolling from side to side as her eyes failed to focus. “Ya know what? Screw the bright side! I hate the bright side! The bright side sucks.”
Pete checked his watch. “This is a golden opportunity.”
“No it isn’t! It’s a dead end story in space. I hate space! Its so…so…so… spacey!”
“Quite the philosopher when you’ve had a few huh?” He mentioned with barely restrained amusement.
“Well you can just stop smiling right now!” She gurgled back. “Coz if I go down, you go down too!”
“That an offer?”
“It’s a promise!” She countered, failing to grasp his meaning. “Your career is stuck to mine boy, and we’re both in a barrel heading for a waterfall.”
“Look at it this way, your Editor is two hundred million miles away. He’s got no say over what you record out here.”
“Yeah, because everything out here is boring!” She groaned. “He doesn’t care!”
“There’s always a story, always.” Pete stated confidently. “Even out here, you just have to find it.”
She took a clumsy drink, sliding the glass back down onto the wood table they were sat at. At this time of day the small bar was pretty empty which was fortunate, April was a relatively well known face and a few snaps of her in this state was bound to make her even more moody when she found them.
“I hate everything!” She announced grandly. “Especially optimism!”
“And nice people.”
“And nice people!” She growled. “I swear they all have something to hide!”
He checked his watch again. “We have that interview in forty minutes. Time to go.”

April glared at him. “I don’t want to do the interview, it’s a waste of me.”
“And what do you want to do? Sit here all day?”
She frowned, weighing the options. “Yes. Get me more booze.”
Pete stood up and wrapped his arms around April, hefting her up to her feet and holding her while she found a semblance of balance.
“You might think your career is over, but I don’t.” He said, taking a small bottle from his pocket. “And I’m going to make sure you don’t throw it away.”
He left her teetering slightly as he opened the bottle and shook out a small white pill.
“Here, take this.”
April shot him an evil stare. “Make the booze come back.”
He shrugged. “You’ll thank me for this later.”
He reached over and pinched April’s nose, pulling her closer.
“Ow, ow, ow!”
“Here we go, mouth open, here comes the aeroplane.”
“I’m going to kick you in the balls!” She yelled. “As soon as I learn to stand on one leg again!”
As she was complaining he dropped the pill into her mouth and closed her jaw, forcing her to swallow.
“There you go.”
At once her attitude disappeared, the pill instantly countering the affects of alcohol in her body. Her drunkenness vanished in a few moments and she steadied herself.
“Oh you son of a bitch.”
“Miracle of modern medicine.” He beamed. “Now you can conduct the interview without throwing up on the Admiral’s shoes.”
“That was a sober pill.”
“Yep.”
“You know what those things do to people!”
“Yeah, they flush alcohol from your system.” He confirmed. “You’ll find the bathroom over there, we’ve still got thirty five minutes.”
“I’m going to kill you when I get out of there!”
“I’ll have a mineral water waiting for you.” Pete sat down, hugely pleased with himself. “Need to replenish your fluids.”
“I am going to…” She paused. “Oh hell.”
“Better run, don’t want any puddles…”
Without any further delay she bolted for the bathroom
“You’re a dead man!”


Thirty minutes later they left the bar, April still quite annoyed but no longer falling over drunk. Pete followed her, still unconscionably happy.
“That was just evil.”
“You’ll thank me tomorrow when you still have a job.” Pete gave his stock answer.
“Those pills are not natural, and I’m still a bit queasy.”
“They aren’t perfect, but better than the alternative.” He answered. “Still leave a bit of a hangover though.”
She huffed, turning her head to take in the location. Inside the core of the facility Ares was just like any other modern city, it had streets, monorails, shops, businesses, tower blocks, even small stalls by roadsides. Cars whizzed by on their automated routes while a mixture of people milled around, most of them either tourists or off duty ship crews. Occasionally a frustrated local bounded past looking disdainful of the visitors.
A good number of people wore uniforms, the greens and browns of army camouflage or the far more common blue or white of the navy. The vast majority belonged to the European Union, it was after all their base, but a trained eye could pick out other nationalities stopping off on their way to or from the edges of the Solar System. This part of the station was a free port and open to anyone. It was run by a civilian council as part of the European Mars administration encompassing some half a billion souls on or above the Red Planet. About a third of the station however was largely off limits to civilians and foreign personnel, areas administered by the navy for the refit and supply of European Union Warships of which there were usually several docked at any one time. It was this restricted sector that the two journalists had been granted access to.
They walked past the shop fronts, most of them trying to sell souvenirs to tourists. April dismissed most of the items, guide vids, Mars Rocks, children’s trinkets based on little green men. They were all vastly over priced of course, though she did toy with the idea of buying one for her Editor and charging it to her business account.
Their path took them away from the busy streets and towards a blank set of doorways set into a squat metal building. One was vast, easily big enough to consume a pair of cargo trucks side by side, the other was much smaller and definitely person sized. Both were edged in yellow and black warning markings and both were guarded by very intimidating Marines.

The two reporters slowed their pace and grinned with a hint of nerves. The Marines were of course professionals and had no reason to hurt them, but they were still an imposing sight. There were five of them, one was a junior officer dressed in a white and grey urban splinter camouflaged uniform. He had a side arm and a green beret coupled with cold eyes and a very closely cropped haircut. His movements alone betrayed his strength and poise, the short and efficient gestures and steps ingrained as part of his combat training.
Scary as he was the four soldiers behind him stood at the doors were worse. Each was ensconced in fully articulated battle armour, pale grey suits of hard edged slanted metal and polymers that could resist all but the most destructive man portable weapons. They were faceless, the troopers inside informed of the world through holographic sensor displays requiring no clear visor that would be a weak point in their armour. They did not appear much bigger than the people within, but could carry immense weights with their mechanically supported limbs, which in this case meant an assortment of large and vicious guns. With the security at every entrance to the station it was unlikely these armoured icons of power would meet anything worthy of their attentions, but their simple presence did a lot to keep the area free of trouble. Very, very free of trouble.
“Hold please.” The unarmoured officer stepped forward, speaking with a French or Belgian accent April couldn’t quite place. Long ago English had been chosen as the language of Commerce and Aviation and by this era had also been adopted by the military for its multinational forces. “You must be the Journalists.”
“April Conroy, Peter Muller.” She introduced them both in her best unfazed act. “New York Times.”
“If you would place your hand here please.”
He held out a flat data tablet and in turn April and Pete had their hands scanned, the device swiftly checking several sources of data to confirm their identity. Both were cleared.
“If you enter that door you’ll find an elevator.” The French Marine pointed to the smaller entrance. “A liaison will meet you at the other end.”
“Got it, thanks.”
He stepped aside with no further word and let the two reporters pass. They stepped up to the door between a pair of Marines and activated the control panel fixed to the wall beside it. The armoured Marines ignored them, still as statues facing forward with legs set straight and a large rifle held across their chests. Not before time the doors opened and let the civilians in, leading them to an elevator.
“Pretty intimidating.” Peter said.
“Our guys are just as tough.” April dismissed.
“You can tell that guy was French though.”
“How?”
“Only person in a week who didn’t thank us for being here.”

The elevator descended quietly, the only indication they were moving coming from the illuminated numbers counting down above the door revealing which floor they were currently passing. There was no music to pass the time and no windows, the military apparently needing no such frivolities. After some seventy floors they slowed down, the magnetic rails stiffening their resistance and halting the car gently at their destination.
“Hello news People!” A man grinned in at them before the doors had even fully opened. “I hope your journey was good.”
“Well he’s not French.” April muttered. “Hi, I’m April.”
“Yes, I have seen your casts many times.” The male officer replied gleefully. “I am Miko Janssen, First Lieutenant assigned to the Press Office. If you please, come this way.”
The stepped out into a large lobby busy with uniformed personnel moving back and forth, transiting from one part of the base to another. Eight corridors branched off like spokes on a wheel heading away to unknown parts while banks of elevators lined the walls.
“It’s a nice station.” Pete said in way of conversation. “Very clean.”
“Thank you!” The officer grinned back. “It is an honour to have you here, I have watched many of your casts!”
“Yes, you mentioned that.” April said with a slight grating.
“I studied your camera work at Helsinki Media College.” Janssen informed Pete. “I graduated just last year.”
“Good for you, how do you like it out here?”
“Very good, lots to do.” He said. “I am a photographer, I take images of our ships for the recruiters out here.”
“You’ll have to show me some of your work.” Pete said. “How do you deal with light sources out here? I mean lighting a space ship must be a nightmare.”
“Yes, yes I will.” He answered with clear joy that a professional like Pete was interested in his skills. “But first the Admiral.” He opened a door into a basic waiting room with a few chairs, a further door at the far end bore the name of Admiral Bradford spelled out in brass letters. “If you wait here, I will inform him.”
The two reporters took a stand, not bothering to sit down as Janssen knocked on the door before walking in.
“Why is everyone so damn happy here?” April whispered irritably. “They aren’t this happy back home.”
“Because they’re Europeans and nobody hates them.” Peter said. “They’ve got no reason to be grumpy. Except the French.”
“Except the French.” April nodded.
“And even then it’s only because of tradition, and I reckon they put it on for tourists.”
“Unlike back home in the States.” April remarked bitterly. “Feels like the world is against us.”
“And that is why we’re here.” Pete answered. “To show that they aren’t.”

 

[Harlock]

The office door swung back open to reveal the Lieutenant. “We are ready now, this way please.”
April took a breath and walked on, settling into her role and glossing over any doubts or lingering sores about why she was here. At the end of the day she had a job to do and like a true professional she was going to do it.
Admiral Trevor Bradford stood behind a deep Mahogany desk waiting for them to arrive. He was dressed formally in a traditional dark uniform thick with ribbons on his chest and gold bands on his sleeve. He wore several gold badges above his ranks of medal ribbons showing his branches of service, foremost being the four pointed star of the Space Fleet.
“Good to see you two.” He reached over and shook their hands before gesturing to two leather chairs in front of the desk. “Please sit yourselves down.”
“Thanks.” April smiled back. “Nice chair.”
“Real leather, not synthetic.” He said. “Better not put that in your report, the animal rights folks would probably try and storm this place!”
“Off the record.” She replied with a grin.
“Thank you Lieutenant.” Bradford nodded to Janssen before sitting down. “That will be all.”
The young Finnish man departed leaving the three alone staring across the desk. It held a basic computer terminal to the right and an assortment of photographs and holo images on the left, including one of a long prowed ship.
“My family.” Bradford noted April’s gaze. “My son is First Officer on a cruiser, very proud of him.”
“I’m sure you must be.” She returned genuinely.
“And that ship was my last command before somebody put me in charge of a desk.” He chuckled slightly. “Not half so much fun.”
Bradford was grey haired though his eyebrows were still black and quite bushy. His hair was curly and still rather thick topping a clean shaven and slightly rounded face set with a large nose. He looked more like a farmer than a naval officer, though his medals told a different story. Most were for long service or good conduct, but a respectable number were decorations for bravery and valour which was no small achievement considering the lack of any major wars over the last century.
“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked. “Water? Tea? In fact I can find a little rum around here somewhere…”
“No alcohol thanks.” April said quickly. “Not unless there’s a bathroom within jumping distance.”
“Long story.” Pete winked.
“Water is just fine.” She changed the subject.
“I’ll have some tea.” Pete took the offer. “Why not, when in Rome.”

Bradford opened a cabinet in the side of his desk and took out a jug of mineral water, filling a glass for April before tacking out a kettle and teapot for himself and Pete. The kettle boiled instantly allowing him to fill the pot with hot water.
“I prefer the old fashioned way, real tea leaves in a pot.” He said as he gave the mix a bit of a swish around in the pot. “Never cared for the instant stuff. Flick a switch and its done, where’s the skill in that?”
“Exactly.” Pete agreed, having no real idea either way.
“Hard to get them out here, tea leaves.” Bradford said. “But as a Royal Navy Admiral I do have certain perks associated with the rank.”
“Good to be king.” Pete grinned as Bradford poured two cups. “Black is fine.”
He put the pot and kettle away and settled back in his chair.
“Well, now we all have civilised drinks shall we begin?”
Pete took a quick sip, then took his palm camera out of his pocket. “One second admiral, just make sure we’re recording… okay, anytime.”
“Admiral Bradford,” April began, her voice both soothing and precise in its delivery. “Can you tell us what position you hold here?”
“My role is Commander of all EU Naval Assets in the Mars region, which basically means every ship, station and Marine unit in the Martian orbital plane.”
“Must be a lot of forces?” April said.
“Second only to the Earth orbital plane.” Bradford answered. “In fact we actually have more stations out here, but less ships and troops.”
“Why are there more stations than Earth?”
“Most of them are refuelling points for ships heading out into the outer solar system, or to top up on the way back home.” The Admiral answered simply. “Maybe a dozen are military bases, with two being classed as full space ports.”
“Like this one?”
“Like this one.”
“How many people is that exactly?” She wondered.
“I’m afraid I can’t say specifically, but most are civilians working on contract or businesses running their own operations. Things like shipping companies, surveyors, shop keepers and restaurateurs. There’s over a hundred million Europeans out here, about a million on this station alone.”
“Add to that other nationalities and you must keep busy out here?”
“You could say that. For every station we have you’ll find an American one, a Chinese one, an Indian or Oceanic one. Russia has been expanding its operations out here lately, so have the Latin League and the North African Alignment. I’d say in the last twenty years Mars orbit has grown faster than Earth.”

April had been asking the easy questions first, the straight forward obvious ones designed to settle in the Admiral and make him comfortable, more likely to give honest answers. She was a friendly face and projected a respectful manner which tricked the interviewee into thinking they were in control of the conversation. It was a good technique, whether it was moral or not was little more than a technicality. This was her job.
“For the clarity of the viewers I should say you are British, but part of the United European Command, correct?” She began to build up to the main topic of discussion.
“Indeed. Each of the European nations runs its own fleets, builds its own ships but to a common design. We each have our own ships so it is very rare to find a vessel with a mix of nationalities aboard, only for special missions usually. However our training, doctrines and command protocols are as identical as our ships, so in battle a Royal Navy ship performs identically to any other vessel in Europe. Well, accounting for crew quality of course.”
“Of course.”
“Britain has always been a maritime power and that has carried over into space. Each nation has to contribute an equal percentage of its GDP to defence but can choose where to make its contribution. Britain devotes most of its resources to the Navy so tends to operate more ships than our European partners. By contrast France and Germany invest more heavily in their armies meaning most of the United European Army is either French or German, while the Navy is almost half British.”
“Does this give Britain greater influence over Solar policy because it has a larger presence on the space lanes?”
“Not really.” Bradford replied. “Our policy is dictated purely by the EU Council, elected officials from across the continent. Any actions have to go through the Council, and then have to be signed off by the President.”
“Similar to the US system?” April observed.
“Relatively, yes.” Bradford agreed. “It’s a fairly common principle, most of the Big Six use a similar system of government.”
“How much influence does the military have on the EU government?”
“Very little, no more than any other group of citizens.”
“I ask because in other states, China especially, we’ve seen an increase of military figures trying to dictate policy to the leadership.”
“In China, yes.” Bradford nodded. “But you could say the same thing about the US too, several high ranking officers have been quoted as demanding a toughening of US policy towards foreign powers.”

April held back a smile, this was exactly the subject she had been steering towards.
“What do you think about that Admiral?”
“About the military making statements of policy? Well we all have our own opinions, but we also have a chain of command to respect. As an officer I would not speak out on a subject over which I have no authority.”
“Do you think the senior US and Chinese officers that have done so are in the wrong?”
“That… that is a matter for their own commanders to decide.”
“Have you noticed any changes out here reflecting the situation on Earth?”
“By ‘situation’ do you mean the sabre rattling both the US and Chinese are engaged in right now?” Bradford raised a thick eyebrow.
“If that is how you would define it Admiral.” She continued neutrally.
“I would.” Bradford affirmed. “Ever since President Brook was elected things have grown increasingly worse.”
“Do you disagree President Brook is merely reacting to Chinese provocation?”
“There’s reacting, then there’s over reacting.” Bradford clarified. “I followed the US Elections last year when Brook hammered his opponents. His whole platform was based on Pro-US and anti everyone else rhetoric. Especially China.”
“His election victory was one of the biggest landslides in history.” April informed.
“It was, and given the amount of coverage he received is it a surprise?” The Admiral countered. “He was never off the holos, we barely saw his opponents.”
“There wasn’t any bias in reporting events.” April quickly added, always aware that anything that sounded like an allegation could get them into a lot of trouble. “The rules for broadcasts were all the same.”
“Yes, the airtime was up for bids.” Bradford nodded. “Whoever had the most funding could bid highest and buy the most broadcast slots.”
“And John Brook had the most funding.”
“Too right he did, every mega corps in the country was backing him and working against his opponents. I’m no politician, but I know what sort of advantage that gave him. All those smears against his opponents that came out of nowhere didn’t help either.”
“All of which were fully disproved.”
“Oh yes, they were all false. Course we didn’t hear that until after the election.” Bradford grimaced slightly. “I’m not pretending my government is perfect, but from my point of view the last US election was not fair.”

This was exactly the sort of thing April was after. Senator John Brook had largely come out of nowhere to challenge the standing President and the opposition leader to a show down. It seemed foolish, Brook was the leader of a fairly new party called the Freedom Party, a fairly small assortment of people dedicated to restoring some pride to their nation. They firmly believed that both Republican and Democrat parties had grown soft and were no longer capable of giving the United States the direction it deserved.
Recent events had given them a voice, allowing the previously unheard of party to start building a reputation. Brook had spoken out against foreign governments encroaching on US territory in the Solar System, especially the Asteroid belt, and his predictions seemed to be coming true. The biggest culprit was China which disregarded the defined borders between its own and US territory sparking several incidents between civilian ships.
In the early days of deep space exploration most nations had claimed vast swathes of territory almost arbitrarily with no international treaty or system to formalise borders. At first this was largely ignored as no nation had the technology to regularly travel beyond Martian orbit and exploit their disputed possessions anyway. But times changed, and as science bounded forward creating ever more efficient engines and finally artificial gravity the entirety of the solar system was suddenly opened for everyone to exploit, and foremost among these were the Mega corporations.
Swiftly mining ships were dispatched to begin operations and physically take possession of particular sectors. While Europe had focused on the region around Jupiter both the US and China had staked their claims in the Asteroid belt, with claimed areas frequently overlapping.
Initially there was enough space for both. All powers had claims in the Asteroid belt though the lion’s share was held by the US and China, and for decades there was enough for everyone. The major corporations set up mines, refinery stations and convoys of transport ships running frequent services to hub stations on the Martian orbital plane. The operations proceeded peacefully as the corporations slowly consolidated and expanded, right up until they reached the disputed zones.
Things then started to get nasty with corporations from both the US and China mining asteroids clamed by each other. While the international courts tried to settle the disputes industrial sabotage began to make itself known, in one instant thirty American miners died when their tunnel seal cracked and expelled the entire contents of the mine into cold vacuum.
These conflicts were well reported on Earth, often times the media taking a story and filling in the blanks with wild speculation and lurid details. It was perhaps no coincidence that most media outlets in the US and China also happened to be owned by the same corporations that were experiencing losses through industrial espionage.

Each of the corporations had supported political parties, in America usually Republican or Democrat. In return for their support and funding they had grown to expect a certain level of support, some would say obedience, from the US government. When the corporations began to demand action to protect their assets, when they demanded sanctions and even military intervention the government in its wisdom clearly said no. The US President would wait for the results of the International Court and act on them. Every day the courts deliberated cost the corporations billions of dollars, and diminished their patience.
Finally they decided to act. When the next election came around each and every Mega Corp in the US withdrew its support from the big two parties and backed John Brook’s Freedom Party, a move which stunned the US government. Brook’s rhetoric about a stronger America matched their aims perfectly, his criticism of the weakness of the current President and the fact the Chinese were laughing in the face of every American struck a chord with many people. The Mega Corps were happy to help publicise his picture of a downtrodden US through their domination of the media and repeat time after time that the old parties had failed repeatedly and America needed a change, a new party to restore its pride and strength. America needed John Brook.
In less than five years he had jumped up from a minor Senator to President, and the Freedom party owned almost three quarters of the Senate giving him virtual carte blank when it came to setting US policy. Something he did not hesitate to embrace. On the surface it was a good thing, America had a purpose and a direction, it had definition and a swelling of national pride. The only problem was that the new pride was built on anger towards all those that had apparently harmed America in the past. That made the other governments of the world a little jumpy.

“Can you tell us how the President’s new Foreign policy has affected things out here?” April moved on, setting up her next line of questions.
“I should say on the one hand its boosted trade, lot more money flowing through the Martian sector.” Bradford admitted. “That’s probably why you haven’t heard a whole lot of complaining so far, American money is welcome out here and Brook’s expansion of mining operations has surged the economy. People are getting rich and nobody will ever complain about that.”
“But you feel there’s a negative side?”
“I know it for a fact, all you need to do is look at the bodies piling up between the Mars Sector and the Belt sector. People are dying out here, a lot of people, and it’s getting worse.”

April’s research had told her most of this anyway, but she had to dig to find this data and it was not widely broadcast back home, at least not in the States. They had sent her out here for a story and she was going to damn well get one, and not some wishy washy anecdotes about it being ghostly out here, or the future of humanity and all that crap. She wanted something with shockwaves and after her handling by the company she wanted payback. Errol Corp had targeted her as a scapegoat for the fiasco with the Senator, they were the hand pushing her away, so they were going to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
“We hear a lot about how dangerous it is out here, and that there are many accidents.” April announced. “Is the increase in fatalities simply due to their being more people out here?”
“No they aren’t.” Bradford stated. “Not unless people are getting accidentally machine gunned, incinerated or dismembered by high calibre projectiles.”
“Can you tell us more Admiral?”
“It’s quite simple, there is a war going on out here, a war between the Corporations. Mainly Errol Corp and Heng Enterprises, Errol owns most of the US facilities in the disputed zones, Heng owns most of the Chinese ones.”
“And these two groups are actively fighting each other?”
“After a fashion.” Bradford nodded. “They have both hired mercenaries to do the dirty work.”
“According to official statements both companies use Private Security Companies to protect their assets, but have never authorised attacks.” The reporter stated. “They blame rogue factions and pirates.”
“Pirates.” Bradford repeated with a grunt. “Let me tell you Miss Conroy, there are no Pirates out here. Pirates need hidden bases and constant income, they are glorified thieves. There are no hidden bases out here, modern sensor technology is too powerful to hide something as big as a supply yard. Also a lot of the attacks are based on pure destruction and not theft, they don’t steal the cargo of the ships they attack. How many thieves go to that sort of trouble and then leave their spoils behind?”
“Has the EU found proof Errol Corp or Heng Enterprises are sponsoring attacks that result in multiple civilian deaths?”
The Admiral grimaced. “No, not yet. But we will. Many of these attacks take place in international space and some within EU territory. It’s just a matter of time before we catch these so called Pirates in the act.”
“What about the Security firms, the mercenaries as you call them, have you encountered any of them?”
“A few, but their ships are banned from EU space. In fact they are banned by all nations except the US and China.” Bradford informed. “Most governments didn’t like the precedent of arming civilians and it seems to have been born out by what we are seeing today. It has essentially given the Mega Corps their own private Navies, forces they are using against each other to maximise profits at the cost of lives.”
“Allegedly Admiral, there is after all no proof those groups legally contracted to any Corporation are launching offensives.”
“Allegedly.” Bradford nodded slowly. “But when you’ve been out here a while all that bull about pirates and rogue ships ends up looking like the lies they are.”
“Private Security firms are allowed under US law providing their weapons are highly limited, less than the equivalent Coast Guard cutter.”
“I’m sure that’s the law.” Bradford stated. “But it isn’t what’s happening out here.”

She took a quick glance over to Pete who was still recording, focused intensely on the camera and its images.
“Have you found Private armed ships have been breaking the law?”
“Frequently, that’s why they are banned from our space.” Admiral Bradford explained. “I don’t want civilian EU ships caught in the crossfire of some damn private war.”
“What happens when you encounter one of these ships?”
“If it is within international space we record its registry and transmit the data home where a formal complaint is made to whoever registered the vessel, which would be either China or the US. So far we haven’t heard a word back from either government.”
“Do you think these heavily armed ships are operating with the consent of their governments?”
“Yes I do.”
It was exactly what April wanted to hear.
“That would mean organisations like Errol Corp were consistently breaking the law, and the US government was failing to prosecute them.”
“That would be correct.” He confirmed. “And further more it adds up to the evidence we’ve found surrounding attacks. EU ships have answered distress calls from several mines, refinery ships and transports these last few months and the damage patterns betray military grade weapons.”
“Which are illegal under the laws of every country?”
“Highly illegal.”
“And you say it’s getting worse?”
“We’ve noticed a definite escalation. At least three convoys have been wiped out entirely with at least a hundred fatalities, we’ve detected skirmishes between mercenary ships blasting away at each other, and last week we found the wreck of a Chinese gunboat.”
“So someone had the power to destroy a military patrol craft?” April questioned.
“Exactly, definitely not within the allowed capabilities of any civilian vessel.” He sighed. “Every day brings fresh casualties, more reports of death and destruction. I watch the news and I can tell you the vast majority of these events go unreported. Nobody on Earth knows the truth, thousands of people are dying out here every month, this is a full scale war waged between hundreds of ships and tens of thousands of people. An Illegal war.”
“Do you blame the US government for this?”
“No, but I blame them and the Chinese for not stopping a situation which is clearly out of control. They need to take responsibility for their citizens and assert control over these Corporations before more people die. If they don’t, this conflict will continue to escalate and millions of lives could be at risk.”
“Admiral Bradford, thank you.”

She made a cut gesture to Pete who turned off the small camera, closing it up and dropping it in his pocket.
“Good interview Admiral, I think it helps tell people what its like out here.”
“I hope so.” The old man expressed flatly. “So far the attacks have been limited to mines, Corporate transports and other mercenaries. Unfortunately the way things have been going lately both sides have been growing more bold, hitting closer to major shipping lines and bases. One of these days they’ll hit one of the hub stations, the big civilian transfer points for ships heading in and out of the different sectors. If that happens, no when it happens, a lot of innocent people will die.”
“I’ve been investigating corruption for a good long time now, I’d guessed some of this, but the scale terrifies me.” April said quietly. “I knew these big Corporations could get away with a lot by bribing the right people, but I never imagined they were killing each other like this.”
“It’s a powder keg.” Bradford agreed. “I’ve given orders to seize any Mercenary ship that strays into our territory just like everyone else. I also know both US and Chinese navies have orders to destroy any mercenary from a foreign power found in their space. No warning, no communication, just shoot to kill.”
“And as only China and the US have mercenaries…” Pete began.
“You have Americans and Chinese killing each other.” April finished.
“That’s been happening for years, it’s only now people are noticing.” Spoke the Admiral. “Ever since President Brook came to power and implemented this new policy, the Corporations have been running wild.”
“So have the Chinese ones.” Pete added. “If anything they are even worse.”
“From what I know they have even more power over their government.” April remarked. “Especially Heng, that witch is supposed to run China single handed.”
“Just like Cyrus Errol is supposed to have President Brook in his back pocket.” Her friend shrugged. “The two biggest business people in the world squaring off with each other.”
“They’re not squaring off, they’re actually fighting. They are at war.” Bradford said. “And if they do have the sort of influence you say they do you can bet they are pushing hard for their respective governments to get involved.”
Pete shook his head. “Brook has been wanting to face down China all his life, make them back off and score a victory over them.”
“China won’t back down over this, not if they’re forced on the issue.” The Admiral stated.
“Heng won’t allow it.” April nodded. “And neither will Errol.”
“So you see how this can escalate?” Bradford pointed out solemnly. “If they can persuade their governments to get involved, to use the actual military to try and legitimise their territorial claims… well, you could end up with a full scale war.”
“China against America.” April shivered. “It would be a bloodbath.”
“I suggest you try to make people understand that.” Bradford suggested. “The more people know about this, the more likely it is nothing will happen.”
“Well, we wanted a big story.” Pete offered a weak smile. “Here it is. We get to prevent the first war in space.”
As the weight of responsibility settled in April didn’t look too thrilled.
“You know, maybe I should have gone for that job at ‘Make Over Weekly’ after all.”

 

[Harlock]

2

Space Complex Ares
Mars Orbit
February 16th 2113


The interview had been more defining for April than she had really expected. Her mind had told her that at first it was pointless, a waste of her talent. Then she had tried looking at it from another angle, a way to get a little revenge on those she blamed for her purgatory out here in the wilderness, something which was actually rather worth her time. But now though she was less sure of herself. Embarrassing her tormentors was one thing, but if Admiral Bradford was right and if Errol Corp really was sponsoring a private war with their Chinese competitors the implications were huge.
Cyrus Errol had a hand in everything. For the last sixty years Errol Corp had been a staple of American life producing everything from food and domestic appliances to warships and space stations. They had subsidiaries involved in every industry, patents in every field of technology and an annual turnover that dwarfed most countries. The amount of power they wielded was immense, yet most of the time that power was hidden safe behind closed doors unseen by the majority of people.
There were rumours of course, but as Errol held majority shares in most US based media outlets nothing official was ever broadcast with only one or two linked stories slipping through the net, like April’s little exposé. The control of information on Earth, especially in the US was extremely tight. It was increasingly hard to speak out about the corporations because they controlled and regulated most means by which a voice could be heard. When the Senate had tried to do something about it media dominance helped ensure a poor performance in the elections. The President and the Senate were unquestioning supporters of Cyrus Errol, indeed most owed him their jobs and as such allowed him to get away with murder. Apparently literally.

Virtually no one knew Errol himself, a recluse who lived on a vast estate in the American Midwest far from the hustle of cities and the glare of spotlights. He was said to be about a hundred and forty years old which with modern medical technology was no more than advanced middle age and was still energetic enough to ride horses, shoot, and frequently chew out his underlings who failed to perform to his standards. He also happened to be one of the smartest people alive and never let anyone forget it. His grasp of technology and the means of exploiting it was legendary, second only to his greed. The exact total of his fortune was unknown, but it was suggested he was the world’s first trillionaire.
Opposing Cyrus Errol in any matter was a fast track to failure. He swatted other businesses out of existence with the impunity of a child with a fly catcher. Companies worth hundreds of billions of dollars were nothing to him, if they had something he wanted he bought them out. If they refused he undercut them, destroyed them entirely, then bought out the ruins. He was ruthless, single minded, and when denied something would fly into a rage. In many ways he was a megalomaniac and it appeared that out here those tendencies were clear to see.

Heng Enterprises stood in his way, they claimed something he wanted and Errol would not allow it. Unfortunately for him Zing Heng was a business woman of such calibre that she might as well have been Errol’s clone. She was his equal and opposite, his Nemesis, and Heng Enterprises was every bit as rich and influential as Errol Corp. Maybe more so. Heng could not be bought out and was too powerful for conventional brinkmanship or power games to be of much effect. It seemed that Errol had therefore gone ahead and used the last option open to him, physically destroying Heng assets with armed warships. It was frankly no surprise to anyone who knew her that Heng herself fought fire with fire.

The competition had been going on for several years and was fairly common knowledge. The New York Times frequently reported on the underhanded tactics of Heng and her employees, even going so far as to accuse them of murder and sabotage. It was probably true, but made no mention to the fact that Errol was doing the exact same thing. The Chinese media reported much the same thing but in reverse, decrying Errol Corp as immoral greed obsessed cowboys riding roughshod over the law while of course showing Zing Heng as whiter than white.
April had an opportunity out here to find the truth, to see things with her own two eyes and not rely on bribed eyewitnesses or doctored computer logs. How exactly she was going to spread the message was another matter, but one she would handle later. For now her task out here was clear, and that was to damn Cyrus Errol.

It was easy to say, but not so easy to do. Almost nobody had ever tried to stand up to him and those that did often settled down after a while, usually with suspiciously inflated bank accounts. April knew that bribery was rife in the media and on the rare occasions that didn’t work intimidation and ridicule were used to destroy the messenger and therefore invalidate the message. Errol Corp sued everyone who would not stay quiet, and their show trials were perversions of justice that were little more than streams of lies. Even if an honest judge found against the Corp it was usually too late and buried under other stories in the bias media.
Dealing with that would be tough, but then again nobody had been in a position to report on such a major story. The fact that a private war was going on with the apparent tacit approval of the US government was a very big deal, the biggest story in decades and something which would make April famous for life. Something like this could not be suppressed. She encouraged herself by demanding the story be told, by repeating over and other that the thousands of dead out here needed to be heard and it was the moral thing to do. Mostly though her motives were entirely selfish, and each passing hour made her more determined to seize fame and glory. April Conroy, the woman who brought down Cyrus Errol.

What had seemed like hell now became paradise, a once in a lifetime opportunity to make a difference. Errol Corps had got it wrong, they had exiled her without thinking about what they were doing, they had underestimated her and by all that was just and right they were going to pay for that arrogance. They had played games with her life and career, and that was going to come back and bite them.
The interview had confirmed a lot of what she had expected, people in authority out here knew what was going on but just couldn’t prove it. What she needed was first hand documentary evidence which showed a ship employed by Errol Corp attacking another Chinese registered ship without provocation. It happened all the time, but no one could prove that it did. The only way she was going to get it was to go out there and find it herself. She couldn’t take a civilian ship, it was far too dangerous, but by yet another stroke of reversed luck she didn’t have to worry about it one bit.

“Miss Conroy? Mr Muller?”
She swivelled in the luxuriant beige couch as she heard her name being called, overlooking the bland decoration of the waiting room to settle her gaze on a blue uniformed officer.
“Lieutenant Janssen isn’t it?” She returned a smile.
“Yes, that is me.” The man grinned widely. “Are you ready to join the ship?”
“Why yes, yes we are.” She stood. “Lead the way.”
Pete stood up beside her, shouldering their bags with suspicion.
“What happened to ‘this is the worst thing to ever happen to me’ then? Why all cheery?”
“Because I sense a story.” She replied happily. “A good one, and nobody else has a chance of breaking it. Do the words ‘Worlds wide exclusive’ mean anything to you?”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” He winced. “If we screw up again I can’t imagine where the news team will send us next.”
“If we do this right we’ll be the news team, Editor and Co-Editor.” She offered him a dazzling ten thousand dollar smile, which was the actual price the dentist had charged for all the cosmetic work to her teeth. “We could be looking at the story of the decade, hell the century! We’re in the right place at the right time, and we’re getting a free ride into the thick of it. All we have to do is report what we see and get the word out.”
“So now it’s a free ride to the story of the century? Not being imprisoned a billion miles from anywhere?”
She shrugged. “All perspective Pete. I got a new one now.”
“Never had you down as a closet optimist.”
“Never had a reason to be one until now.” April smiled back.
“Excuse me.” Janssen spoke again. “Are you both ready?”
“I am, Pete?”
“Yeah, why not.” He accepted. “Let’s go.”

The second and main part of the assignment was to report on what life was like for European sailors out in deep space. At first it had seemed an added ignominy that they had to spend time on an EU ship rather than one of their own US vessels but now it was yet another blessing in disguise. The EU was neutral when it came to the growing tensions between the US and China and had no affiliations with Errol Corp, Europe had its own tycoons and magnates that generated much the same situation but on a smaller scale. By luck rather than design Europe’s national corporations were more equal in scale rather than the huge monopolies that dominated the US, India and China which kept them in constant competition. They were often so busy dealing with each other and their foreign rivals they had little time or spare money to exert substantial influence on government. That was not to say it didn’t happen, but certainly not to the same extent as Errol and Heng embodied.

The burst of space travel which gave birth to the Mega Corporations also served to define them. At first the original aeronautic and technical giants operated together internationally. Companies from Europe, Russia, America and China would work together to build the next generation of space craft as the costs and profits demanded international cooperation. The pinnacle of this was the Mars mission, a vessel built by both governments and corporations from across the globe highlighting the unity of mankind. It had been an event filled with such promise, yet was ultimately short lived.

As the technology became more prevalent and costs came down it became easier for lone companies to put assets in space, they no longer needed to pool their resources and share profits, they could keep their gains to themselves. Old rivalries between companies quickly returned as secrets were hoarded and unilateral claims to territory were made. At first government subsidies were still required which tended to tie companies to their country of origin and force the closure of international branches. True multinational companies began to whither, but the loss of trade on Earth was more than made up for by the explosion of opportunities in space.

The various Mega Corporations that formed around this time redefined business, going beyond conglomerates to create monstrous entities that could quite literally hold the world to ransom if they wished. Privatisation in government became more common as the Corporations made bids for aspects of government. They administered tax returns, licensed vehicles and smaller companies, provided admin staff and officer workers, paid for the health service and oversaw the welfare systems across the globe all with the efficiency and coldness of big business. Only the treasury, law enforcement and the military remained purely under government controls on average and even then a lot of the back ground work and support was provided by various national corporations.

They were omnipresent, virtually everything humanity touched had at one point being manufactured, recorded or claimed by a Mega Corp. Every aspect of life held the promise of profit and as a result the Corporations were there to take advantage and make a few swift bucks. Even death had a profit, and it seemed both Errol Corp and Heng Enterprises were hard at work tying to make money by killing off each other.
Most people did not really mind the pervasive grip of the Corporations as it did not really harm them. They watched Holo TV, ate their food, worked mostly under their umbrella and accepted each day with contentment. Right now though April could see that the future would change that, that the conflict out here could well spark a major war between two great superpowers and that would change everything for the worse. It had to be stopped, and she had the means to do it.

“The docking bay is ready.” Janssen informed them in his usual exuberant manner. “You’re timing was good, you only had to wait ten hours before departure.”
“I could have used a bit more time here.” Pete mentioned. “Spend a decent night in a hotel bed before those navy bunks…”
“Our Editor booked us on the last possible flight, he wanted us to have no time to rest.” April informed.
“Oh? Why did he do that?” Janssen wondered as they walked through bland corridors.
“Because he is what we call a rat bastard.” April answered concisely. “That about covers it.”
They walked around a few more corners, a handful of personnel passing them by in the other direction.
“Pretty quiet here.” Pete said. “I expected it to be busier.”
“We are in a quiet sector, not many ships berthed here.” Janssen gave reply. “It’s busier closer to the core docks, we have two carriers in and those things require a lot of supplies.”
“Ever served on a ship?”
“No, not yet, I went straight into the Liaison job.” He answered. “But I hope I do one day, it would be a great fun.”
“Hope so.” Pete grinned. “We’ll let you know how it is out there.”
“I envy you a little.” The Finnish man admitted in his heavy accent. “A five month patrol is…”
“Whoa, five months?” April spluttered. “I thought it was six weeks?”
“No, it’s five months, that is how long it takes.”
“But we’re only patrolling the Asteroid belt.” She retorted. “It can’t take that long to get there.”
“I…I’m sorry, the ship you are assigned to isn’t going to the asteroid belt.” Janssen said with a tinge of apology. “There must have been some crossed wires, your Editor was very specific.”

Pete cleared his throat. “So where are we going?”
“Neptune.”
April did a remarkably good job of holding her temper. “I’m going to throttle him with his own guts that utter…”
“What are we actually going to do out there?” Pete spoke over her, focusing attention on himself.
“Err, just a standard patrol, make sure the deep range stations are all okay. The specifics are up to the Captain.”
April picked up a little. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the Captain decides exactly where the ship goes, whether it pauses to investigate any anomalies or suspicious vessels.”
“And the Asteroid belt is on this route? We could in theory stop in the belt on our way out if something seemed wrong?”
“I suppose so.” Janssen guessed. “The Captain does have that authority.”
She visibly brightened up. “Great, that’s some good information to know.”
“April…” Pete began.
“Relax, I’m not going to do anything embarrassing.” She soothed. “Well, nothing that won’t be worth it.”

They passed a final corner and suddenly came to a wide lounge filled with cheap plastic chairs arrayed in massive banks, seating for military crews awaiting final permission to board their vessels. The lounge was currently empty, a lone janitor cleaning the floor in one corner, but far more noticeable were the huge windows that consumed an entire wall in a vista of blackness and superimposed steel. It provided a panoramic view of the outside docking bay, of the scores of maintenance craft and EVA crews flitting back and forth, of the booms and piers, and in the centre of the window dominating everything was the hard edged figure of a warship.
The vessel was immense, a kilometre long shape with a roughly hexagonal cross section tapering to a long sharp point at one end and a quartet of shrouded engines at the other. The ship was coated in dull grey thermal paint, a dark morass against the much paler dock behind it. Tubes and conduits hung from it connecting the ship to the station and transferring its lifeblood of fuel and people in long steady streams. The angled hull was buried in structures, blocky sensor arrays, tall communication masts, armoured superstructures and of course guns. Lots and lots of guns.

She was a battleship and armed appropriately. Her dorsal hull was commanded by four turrets, two forward and two aft mounting twin rail cannons in an arrangement mirrored on the ventral spine giving her a total of sixteen large calibre guns. Her flanks were studded with smaller rail guns in dozens of turrets, the barrels protruding like spines in all directions at all angles, dual purpose weapons used against smaller ships or swarms of attack drones. Finally any part of her hull not given over to giant guns or sensors was instead offered up to point defences, hundreds of turreted laser cannons that could cut down missiles and drones at extreme range long before they were a danger to the ship.

The battleship was an imposing unit, a well balanced machine designed solely to confront other machines of similar construction and blow them into tiny irradiated pieces. Her main guns fired six thousand ton projectiles at incredible speed, her hull hid missile tubes holding weapons that could turn whole cities to glass, her unadorned hull was built of the latest super dense alloys using gravity bonding to enhance its strength and stand up to enemy weapons on a similar scale. The battleship was a potent symbol of military might, always had been and always would be, yet in the military they had already been superseded by Dreadnoughts and Supercarriers in the last five or six years as the ultimate weapons of war. Yet even so the battleship remained a more balanced and efficient weapon than its larger cousins and the biggest warship most people were likely to see.

“Oh yeah, that’ll do.” Pete grinned. “I feel a lot safer now.”
“I can’t see anything short of another battleship hurting that.” April shared his smile. “And I hear the European ones are some of the best in service, and spacious.”
“That’s a relief, beats sharing a bunk with you and your cosmetics collection.”
Beside them, ever so gently, Janssen coughed. It was not a sign of illness, or an attempt to gather their attention, it was the sound of a man trying to think of a way to burst their happy little bubbles with the needle of reality.
April closed her eyes and inhaled, she knew right then what was coming.
“That isn’t our ship is it?”
The officer shook his head.
“Where?”

 

[Harlock]

Hesitantly April stepped closer to the window for a better view, hesitant step following hesitant step as she craned her neck and peered down over the lip of the reinforced polymer screen before her. She dragged her eyes away from the stately capital ship and found a vessel docked much closer a few levels down, its hull covered in automatons and space suited workers busying themselves like ants on a forest floor.
As she had anticipated almost instinctively the ship was a lot smaller than its big sister hanging across the docks. For a moment she had hoped against hope that her malevolent Editor had experienced an uncharacteristic bout of kindness and arranged her passage on a decent ship, but obviously that had been pure wishful thinking. Instead he had given her a place on a cramped undersized tin can for the next five months. Five whole entire months.

The ship itself did not look particularly unsafe or dangerous, it was a slender cylinder tapered at front and back like a stiletto with a single large centreline engine providing its main propulsion and four secondary thrusters aligned around the main ion drive for extra speed and agility. The shape was quite smooth, broken by a basic superstructure on the dorsal hull used for transferring crew and fuel and a more bulky shuttle bay on the underside which was currently wide open and accepting bulky pallets of food and munitions. By feeding fuel lines through the superstructure it left the hull itself uniform with no weak points where fuel taps rose to the surface through the armoured belt. In theory it would help the survivability of the ship, though given the raw power of modern weapons it was probably false confidence.

Four sensor masts protruded from the top, bottom, port and starboard sides adorned with an array of bars, dishes, poles and antenna giving the ship the necessary three dimensional coverage of its surroundings. Finally of course was the armament, eight fairly impressive gun turrets rested on the forward half of the ship in front of the superstructure, two on the dorsal hull and two below on the ventral surface, each mounting a pair of five inch railguns. The rear dorsal hull mounted a six barrelled chain gun while the flanks were carefully dotted with laser turrets for point defence. It was a respectable armament, but utterly insignificant compared to the behemoth looming over it like a bristling fortress.

“Nice.” Pete grinned. “You know I prefer a small ship, more adventurous.”
April turned her head to glare at him. “Stop talking Pete. Stop talking right now.”
“His Majesty’s Ship Amethyst.” Lieutenant Janssen helpfully revealed. “Jewel class patrol Frigate, two hundred and forty one metres long, ninety six thousand tons standard mass, crew of seventy seven. Oh, and now two passengers.”
“And that thing is going to stay out in space for four months?” April demanded. “That tiny little thing?”
“Yes Ma’am, it’s what they were built for.” Janssen continued happily, oblivious to the gathering storm around the reporter. “Long range patrol to protect our most distant outposts, ships like this can make a round trip to Pluto and back and still have a third of their supplies left over.”
“That’s good to know, isn’t it?” Pete nudged her in amusement.
“Stop me if I’m being naïve here, but all that food and fuel is going to take up a lot of space, right?” April said. “And that ship doesn’t look like it has a lot of internal space to begin with, so where do the crew live?”
“The crew quarters are in the middle, between the torpedo room and the secondary fusion reactors.” Janssen answered. “I hear the bunks are quite comfortable.”
“Okay, the word that stands out there is Bunks, as in, not Beds.” April growled. “I knew Carlos had one more handful of salt to rub in my eyes.”

“It’ll be an adventure!” Pete enthused. “Out on the frontier, living a basic life like the early pioneers, sacrificing comfort for the sake of the story.”
“Maybe I don’t want to sacrifice comfort?” April retorted. “Maybe I like comfort!”
“What happened to journalistic integrity?”
“What happened to sleeping in my own room?”
Pete tilted his head like a junior school teacher. “Are you going to throw a tantrum again? Like when you got that room at the Astoria?”
“First that wasn’t a tantrum, second the hotel was a pig sty, and third I am not throwing a tantrum!” She stamped her foot down. “You haven’t seen a tantrum buddy!”
Janssen cleared his throat. “I can sense this is perhaps a bad time…”
“Not so fast buddy!” April snapped at him. “I want you to get me a place on that ship!” She pointed at the imposing battleship in the distance.

Janssen winced. “I don’t think…”
“No, that’s right, don’t think!” April sneered. “Just get it done!”
“Maybe you should just chill a bit.” Pete advised. “Take a moment and stop embarrassing yourself in front of the Navy.”
“No, I won’t chill a bit, whatever that means!” April huffed. “I’m sick of being pushed around! I’m sick of being punished for doing my job better than anyone else! And on top of that I have a hangover that rates a nine point nine on the crap-o-meter which I completely blame you for!” She jabbed a finger in Pete’s chest. “So why don’t you either do something or get out of my way!”
Pete shrugged. “Your call boss, but don’t cry to me when you end up floating home.”
She twisted her attention back to Janssen, who visibly shrank. “Well?”
“I can’t put you on that ship….and, and it’s heading for Earth, you were supposed to be heading further out.”
“Do I look like I care?”
“You did a minute ago.” Pete cut in. “If you head home there’s no story.”
April paused, her next words failing to leave her mouth. He was of course right.

“So it’s a little hardship, so what?” Pete continued. “Five minutes ago you were determined to get this story, determined to expose what is really happening out here, and now you’re actually thinking about walking away from that? For the sake of a comfy bed?”
She sighed, her anger rapidly cooling in the face of the facts. “No, no I suppose not.”
“Good.” Pete nodded brusquely. “They screwed me over too, and I want to haul them over the fire for it.”
She gave him an assuring glance. “Me too. Hey, you know I get hot headed.”
“Yeah, especially when you’ve had a few to drink.”
“I’m going to ignore that comment, for your own good.”
“That’s my girl.” Pete grinned. “Back in the game?”
“Yeah, hissy fit over.” She exhaled. “Let’s go get that Pulitzer.”


Janssen rather warily led them to a lift and dropped a few floors until they were parallel with the frigate, exiting onto a deck almost identical to the one they had just left. Again there was a window but this time it was obscured by the matte black coated hull of the Amethyst tethered a few metres beyond. The Lieutenant led them to a series of chairs and couches of tan leather set beside the windows where a pair of officers were talking to each other, both of them stopping and turning to face new arrivals with mild curiosity.
“April, Peter, this is Commander Edward Mallory, he’s the Captain of the Amethyst. Sir, these are the reporters from New York.”
“April Conroy.” She beamed and held out her hand. “Great to meet you.”
“Charmed.” Commander Mallory accepted her hand. “When I heard you would be spending time with us I looked up some of your stories. I was impressed, you don’t pull punches.”
“I’m old school, and proud of it.” She announced. “My job is to tell people the facts, what they need to hear, not necessarily what they want to hear.”
The Officer smiled slightly. “I think the world could use a little of that. This might be quite an interesting trip.”
Mallory ticked all the boxes when it came to the stereotype of the Naval officer. Tall, fairly slim, clean shaven with blue eyes and fair hair. April guessed he was in his middle thirties and he appeared both composed and confident, the sort of reassuring demeanour you would want in a military commander. He wasn’t as athletic or rough looking as the Marine they had encountered earlier, but presumably as a ship board officer he had a somewhat less demanding life. At least physically.
She realised she was looking at him a little too long to be comfortably and swiftly turned away her gaze, turning her head to Pete.
“And this is Peter Muller, my camera guy and producer.” She added hastily.
“Great to be here.” He shook hands, wiggling an eyebrow at April as he leaned over. Her return glare would have boiled lead.

“Where are my manners?” Mallory smiled. “This is Lieutenant Commander Jane Rhodes, my second in command.”
April turned her attention to the second officer in the meeting, finding herself slightly surprised by her appearance. She could have been the twin of Mallory, also tall and slim and also sharing his blue eyes and fair hair.
“Good afternoon.” She greeted formally. “Hope your trip here was pleasant.”
“Just fine thanks.” April shook hands. “You two aren’t related are you?”
“Us?” Jane hid a smile.
“You just look so alike. It’s a little eerie.”
“We get that a lot.” Mallory shrugged under the memory. “Mostly we just find it funny, used to be annoying.”
“Hard to say if I look like a man or Ed here looks like a girl.” Jane grinned.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean…” April managed to splutter.
“We were just kidding.” Jane stopped her. “And good to meet you too Mr Muller.”
“Just Pete is fine.” He beamed, gently shaking her hand. “So we’re going to be on the same ship together for five months?”
April surreptitiously pressed her heel on his toe, a warning he entirely ignored.
“That’s the planned duration.” She confirmed. “I realise this may be a little more hardship than you are used to…”
“Oh don’t worry Jane, can I call you Jane?”
“If you like.”
“Don’t worry about us, I’m beginning to think all the hardship in the worlds is going to be well worth it.”
“Really?” Mallory raised an amused eyebrow.
“For our story.” April answered rapidly. “Our exclusive story, which only we will have. The truth about deep space.” She stepped in front of Pete. “We’re very excited about it.”
“Yes, certainly seem rather excited about something.”
April called on her abilities as a report to prevent herself turning red on Pete’s behalf.

“So that’s your ship? Looks like a nice one.” She changed the subject.
“Yes, she’s a fine little vessel.” Mallory nodded, accepting the subject change. “We’ll be going aboard in about half an hour, just waiting for the final structure tests to make sure we’re not leaking any air.”
“Do they usually…leak then?” April asked with slight unease.
“Sometimes.” He returned with a thin smile. “But we can usually fix it if something bad happens out there.”
“How?”
“Well we have a lot of duct tape.” Mallory grinned. “If you’d like to gather your bags shall we meet back here in an hour?”
April waited a beat too long to answer, still fixated on how exactly duct tape was going to stop her being sucked out of a giant hole in the hull. “Yeah, okay, an hour.”
“See you then.” He smiled, then stepped back and let Lieutenant Janssen lead them away.
Jane waited until they were out of earshot before speaking.
“You’re evil.”
“Yes. Yes I am.” Mallory twisted a half smile. “Five months with them. Remind me XO, did I accidentally piss in the Admiral’s tea pot at some point?”
“Not that I’m aware of sir.” She answered. “Though your bathroom habits are really none of my business.”
“Let’s see how your sarcasm stands up to that Cameraman. He was definitely sizing you up.”
“Don’t worry sir, he’ll very quickly learn exactly what areas are restricted on board ship.”
The Commander chuckled. “Perhaps there’s some fun to be found in this trip after all.”
“Only for us sir.”


An hour later they were ready, bags packed and stood at the entrance to the boarding tube. Small groups of sailors walked past them, most of them taking a good look at the civilians before walking off down the tube to the ship, frequently chuckling or in one case bursting into complete hysterics.
“Think they know something we don’t?” April frowned.
“Probably, but it doesn’t matter.” Pete shrugged. “We’ve got a job to do, a crusade.”
“Right.” She sucked in a lungful of air. “Damn straight we do.”
“So we’ll do it, we’ll get on there, we’ll suck it up, and when we come home we’ll be heroes.”
“Right then.”
“We’re doing this for Journalists everywhere, showing them professionals still exist, showing them that for a big story, we’ll do anything.”
“And because you think the second in command is hot?”
“Life has its bonus’.” Pete nodded honestly. “Plus Carlos paid for us a hotel room and we barely used it, so much for his expenses.”
“Especially because I ordered more room service than the Saudi Royal Family.” April shared a smile of pure mischief. “I’m a woman scorned, I have standards to live up to.”
“You’re a bitter and twisted person, I’m impressed.” Pete nodded.
“Twisting the knife is my special move.” She returned. “I’m getting good at it.”
She rocked on her feet for a moment, checking her watch, and then precisely on time noticed Lieutenant Commander Rhodes appear at the exit of the boarding tube.
“Here we go.” April muttered, smiling to greet the female officer again.
“All packed?” Jane asked with a swift examination of their clothing.
“One case each.” April confirmed. “We were told to travel light.”
“Good, the last civilians we had aboard brought six cases each, can you imagine?”
“Wow, six cases.” Pete remarked, looking over at April. “That’s insane isn’t it?”
Their original cargo manifest had called for eleven cases. She still remembered how loud the military liaison had laughed in her face. “Yeah. Crazy.”
“In the end I threw them out of an airlock.” Jane smiled fondly.
“The cases… not the people?”
“Sadly yes, just the cases.” She clapped her hands together. “Still, we can’t have everything. Ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be.” April affirmed, almost convincing herself in the process.
“Right, this way then.” Jane turned on her heel and headed for the tube. “We depart in about twenty minutes, plenty of time to get settled.”
The two reporters picked up their cases and took a last look at the station. Plain as it was it still represented a familiar environment, something mildly comfortable and solid, something safe. The ship waiting for them was much smaller, much more alien and was about to head out into the furthest edges of human advancement. If something went wrong here there were plenty of ships and people to help, but out there it was unlikely they’d stand even a slim chance of rescue.
April took one last breath, before lifting her foot off the deck. “No guts, no glory.”

She stepped off the station and into the tube, functionally similar to the one she had used to board the station earlier the same day. It was noticeably colder in the tube, and unlike the civilian version it was a much longer walk across to the small warship. Neither Pete nor April spoke, both focused on the time ahead with a mix of interest, excitement and apprehension. It was going to be unlike anything either of them had experienced before, like working without a safety net.
“Here we are.” Jane noted over her shoulder.
At the end of the tube was a doorway, the edges of it as black as night. The doors themselves were folded inwards, three foot thick plugs of metal suspended on fat magnetic pistons hanging open as part of a four tiered airlock, four separate chambers each as sturdy as each other.
“Lot of doors.” April said. “Don’t like guests huh?”
“Only the paying kind.” Jane chirped. “The doors are a bit of a weak point, so we have to reinforce them like this. If we didn’t it would be relatively easy for enemy Marines to break into the Amethyst herself. This would be a bad thing.”
“I bet it would.” Pete agreed.

Jane stepped over the edge of the doorway, turning to wait for them. One after the other April and Pete took their first steps onto the ship, committing themselves irrevocably to this task.
“Welcome aboard the Amethyst.” Jane spoke with genuine feeling, momentarily setting aside her trademark half amused personality. “You’re on British sovereign territory now, and as your hosts we have a responsibility to keep you safe. Not a lot of people get the chance to travel on a mission like this, indeed I think you are the first.”
“We’re ready.” April said. “And as your guests we’ll try not to do anything dumb.”
“That will be a great weight off Commander Mallory’s mind.” Jane grinned widely. “This is a difficult mission on the best of days, adding civilians to the mix…”
“You’ll barely notice us.” Pete clamoured. “Scout’s honour.”
Jane nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Why don’t we find you somewhere to drop those cases?”


The interior of the Frigate was painted in a mix of whites and pale greys, the floor consisting of a rubber like material that adhered to their shoes like sticky tape. Pipes and conduits ran along the upper walls in the style of warships from centuries past, granting easy access to repair technicians in the event of something going wrong with them. The metal walls were braced with ‘L’ shaped supports every few metres helping maintain the rigidity of the interior and protect against bending and warping that may come during times of great stress. They passed through several automatic doors, the heavy steel portals sliding across into recesses in the wall and back closed again after they passed until reaching one of the internal turbolifts.
“There’s not much up here in the superstructure.” Jane mentioned as they clambered into the small lift. “Once we’re underway this part of the ship is normally empty, all the important stuff happens in the main hull behind several feet of armour.”
“I guess it’s pretty exposed up here.” Pete agreed.
“We have mostly fuel pumps and nonessential storage up here, nothing vital.” Jane agreed. “Though we do have an observation deck at the front. Most people assume it’s the command bridge.”
April kept very quiet.
“I guessed the bridge was inside the ship.” Pete conversed, trying to engage the Naval Officer. “Well protected.”
“We call it the Control Room, though a lot of people refer to it as the CiC, Combat Information Centre.” Jane explained. “But yes, it’s like the brain of the ship so we keep it well protected. Of course if we take a direct hit that won’t matter.”

April frowned. “What do you mean? I thought you said it was well protected?”
“Everything is relative.” Jane shrugged. “We’re a patrol ship, not a front line combat vessel. Anything bigger than a four inch spear shot is going to go through this ship end to end.”
Pete laughed nervously. “What, really?”
“Oh yes, this isn’t a battle destroyer or an attack frigate, we’re a scout.” She smiled slightly. “If we run into trouble our standing orders are to run away.”
“That’s pretty damn smart.” April decided. “I support this theory.”
“Fortunately we do have a few tricks up our sleeve to help with that.” Jane offered supportively. “We’re one of the stealthiest ships in space, which is no easy task.”

The lift stopped and they piled out, filing down a narrow corridor and stepping through white gleaming bulkheads.
“I thought it would be easy to hide in space?” April questioned. “I mean it’s so big.”
“And empty.” Pete added.
“That’s the problem, what are we supposed to hide behind?” Jane asked. “With the sort of sensors naval ships have we can pick up a candle from hundreds of millions of miles away. The surge of a gravity generator, a burst of static from a communication mast, the flare of a manoeuvring thrusters, as far as we’re concerned its as bright as a star out there. Even the hull itself is like a beacon, in the freezing cold of space our heat signature would be like letting rip with a flamethrower in an ice cave.”
“I guess you must have found ways around this then?” April suggested.
“Some of it, for example we use cryogenics to keep the outer hull at ambient temperature and the inner hull a nice comfortable twenty two degrees. But a lot of stuff we just can’t hide, so we have to be damn careful and damn sneaky, and hope no one is looking for us.”

“If it was me I’d be looking for engine exhausts.” Pete guessed.
“That’s the first thing I’d look at too.” Jane gave him a smile over her shoulder, turning down an adjoining corridor. “So we rarely use the main thrusters, only for our initial boost. After that we coast and change course using our gravity systems. Even then most ships can pick up gravity fluctuations so we have to use very tiny increments. Takes a lot of planning.” She stepped through another bulkhead, the reporters carefully guiding their bags through the narrow opening. “A smart enemy will watch us leave dock, track us in the boost phase and use that to estimate our position for the rest of our journey. Gets quite difficult to fool a good spotter, and of course as a scout ship we’re doing the same thing to everybody else’s stealth units.”
“Bit of cat and mouse then?”
She paused at a door. “For us, yes, stealth ship versus stealth ship. If it came down to a fight whoever is seen first dies.”
“Rough price to pay.”
“It’s not meant to be safe and easy Mr Muller.” She opened the door. “You’re room, you’ll be sharing with our gunnery officer, Mr Cross.”
“Hope he doesn’t snore.” Pete grimaced, squeezing through the narrow door.
“What is life without surprises?” Jane answered with a thin smile. “Miss Conroy, fate has decided we’ll share a room, in the female section.”
Pete’s head returned to the door.
“Say, don’t suppose we could swap at some point?”
“Trust me Mr Muller, it is better for your health if you remain here.” The First Officer informed with a hint of sarcasm. “Mr Cross will be along shortly to show you how to use your pressure suit. Try to pay attention, it may save your life.”

April followed Jane down a few more passages, leading up to the female quarters. On their way they passed through the mess hall, several overalled ratings helping to stock the massive freezers and storage rooms.
“As civilians you are welcome to join the officers in the Wardroom for meals.” Jane informed. “But if you’d prefer to eat with the crew you are welcome, it would offer a broader perspective to your story I’m sure.”
“We’ll probably split our time between the officers and the enlisted crew.” April agreed, happy to go along with the assumption that her story focused on the crew, not the events outside.
“Most of the ship is open to you, including the Conn.” Jane continued. “But certain areas are out of bounds for obvious reasons.”
“Like security?”
“And safety, lot of heavy machinery on an active warship.” Jane replied. “But yes, security too. As a scout ship it’s our job to watch space and track anything that crosses into our sector, that requires some fairly sophisticated technology. No offence, but we can’t really have foreign nationals taking pictures of our latest systems.”
“Don’t worry about it, we understand.”

She arrived at a small door and opened it, revealing a narrow room with two bunks on the left, a wardrobe on the right, and a small desk and personal computer at the far end. It was only just big enough for two people as slender as April and Jane to pass each other, if they had been men it would have been a lot more awkward.
“I’m afraid space is a little tight on a Frigate.” Jane offered. “Bottom bunk good for you?”
“Not a problem.” April dropped her bag on the bed, set into an alcove with a dark blue curtain providing her only privacy. “Do we have a bathroom?”
“Just opposite, though you’ll have to share it with fourteen other women.”
April just smiled with a remarkable facsimile of sincerity, reminding herself that her revenge was worth it. “That’s just fine.”

Jane reached past her and opened the wardrobe, removing a pale grey one piece body suit covered in straps and padding. It reminded April of a space suit but much lighter.
“Okay, before we do anything else, this is your pressure suit, I suggest you try it on straight away and adjust it to fit.”
“Is this in case something puts a hole in us?”
“Exactly.” Jane confirmed, her tone slipping into a more business like frame. “It’s insulated enough to protect you from extreme cold and has an internal air supply good for ten hours. You also have valves here which you can plug into air tanks across the ship, you’ll find hoses clearly marked pretty much everywhere giving you an indefinite air supply. There’s one on the wall next to your bunk for instance.”
She handed over the suit.

“You wear it like an overall until something bad happens, then pull on the hood and press the edges down around your neck, it will automatically create an airtight seal. Now the fabric is pretty tough, strong enough to avoid tearing if you catch yourself on a bit of jagged metal, but it won’t stop a bullet or shrapnel. Course if we run into that sort of trouble we’re all completely screwed anyway.”
“Good to know.”
“I’m going to head up to the control room now, why don’t you and Mr Muller go up to the observation deck? Just back track the way we came, its sign posted.” Jane suggested. “Be a hell of a view as we leave Ares.”
“Okay, we will.” April said. “And after that can we get some interview time?”
“I’d settle in first.” Jane replied. “I’ll have someone give you the tour, make sure you know your way around.”
“Okay, but I’d like to speak to the Commander as soon as possible.”
“I’ll let him know, but I suggest you pace yourself.” The officer flashed smile. “It’s going to be a long trip.”

 

[Harlock]

3


“All hands, departure stations, standby to cast off.”
The HMS Amethyst stirred, the hum of its reactors growing as she prepared to leave the nurture of her docking bay, to sever the umbilical and extend out into the expanse beyond like a baby entering the world. The Amethyst was a relatively new ship, less than five years old, and still represented the cutting edge of European military science. She was a subtle instrument, a ship where sophistication was her only defence shunning the massive armour and endless gun batteries of her big sisters. The Amethyst was designed as a ghost, a wraith that would pass unseen and unhinted at through the void watching and listening to the deeds of others. She would gather evidence, monitor fleet movements, look for secret bases or hidden activities and simply slip away into the night as if she had never existed.

That, at least, was the theory. In practice though sneaking up on people in the harsh emptiness of space had proven virtually impossible. Most space faring powers had experimented with stealth ships with varying degrees of success, finding that while it was relatively feasible to hide a ship the size of a Frigate stealthing anything larger was remarkably difficult. Only Europe and Oceania had invested in capital grade stealth ships, a choice most others saw as folly. To operate successfully a stealth ship had to blend into its background completely which meant no detectable emissions, this included heat, light or electromagnetic signals such as sensor scans or communications. They also had to be aware of the location of planets, to avoid being silhouetted against a visible background. They could usually avoid being spotted while moving against the background of stars at long range, but if they tried to close within several million miles of a station or base they would probably be spotted by optical scans as the stars winked out behind them.

Even in the most ideal circumstances it wasn’t perfect, and even under full silent running protocols they still ran the risk of being picked up by opposing warships, especially the latest types of battle destroyers which carried enhanced sensor arrays for just such a purpose. Once found the Stealth ships were entirely outclassed, they had sacrificed dense armour to lessen mass and make it harder for gravitic sensors to find them, and they had abandoned most active defences to curb their emissions. Their only real defence was to use their excellent electronic warfare suite to jam enemy ships and disrupt their targeting, then hope they could run for home faster than the enemy could close the range and score a hit.

The disadvantages were many and they prevented Stealth ships from dominating the Fleets of humanity, but they did have certain advantages. While a passing ship might pick up a Stealth vessel a quarter light second away space was so vast that the chances of the two ships stumbling into each other like that were very rare. A stealth ship lurking outside the main shipping lanes was an excellent spy and provided the crew knew their business was unlikely to ever be spotted. They were frequently used for dropping sensor buoys and in war could do the same with mines, making the danger of minefields springing up with no warning a very real possibility. Even more concerning they had the ability to function as lethal first strike weapons, deploying unpowered nuclear warheads in deep space that could drift for months before hitting stationary targets like bases or orbital colonies.

To that end stealth ships received a great deal of scrutiny from all sides, and any ship leaving dock was likely to be tracked relentlessly and shadowed by one or more destroyers from another nation. Eluding these pursuers tended to give the commanders of stealth ships something to do on long patrols and had the added benefit of giving crews experience of what a real seek and destroy mission would be like if the worst happened and war broke out.
As a result the crews of both Stealth ships and the destroyers tracking them tended to be of noticeably higher quality than other ships of the fleet breeding more innovative and resourceful commanders.

Commander Mallory gave the room a final check, noting each of the stations on the Conn was manned and prepared. Ahead of him the two helm officers were standing by at their station, control columns held steady in their hands and holographic displays projected before their eyes. Beside him the navigator had the plot laid in taking them through the busy shipping lanes around Mars, the projected charts showing a clear green line marking their path. The sensor officer kept a watch for unregistered ships in their way, the communications officer waited for final clearance, and as always the weapons officer was standing by with a gruff frown on his face, the living embodiment of the phrase ‘You can never be too careful.’

“Commander, we have our clearance.” Lieutenant Jake Thomas reported from Comms. “Ares command says we are go.”
“Very good, any tracks?”
“Negative sir.” Lieutenant Michelle Cheyo answered from the sensor station, her graceful ebony fingers sweeping the sensor net. “Our path is clear.”
“Course set Miss Fisher?”
“All waypoints programmed and locked.” Lucy Fisher confirmed from her navigational plot. “All set sir.”
“Alright then, Commander Rhodes.” He looked over to his First Officer. “Let’s get going.”
“Aye sir.” She answered with relish. “Confirm airlock status?”
“All locks sealed sir.” A rating replied from damage control.
“Disengage boarding tube.”

The latches keeping the tunnel attached to the hull released, retracting into the hull and allowing the dock master to reel in the tube. The tube had already been depressurised but there was still a tiny puff of frozen air as it pulled away, the last trapped pocket of gas from somewhere within.
“Tube clear Commander.”
“Fuel conduits?”
“Already gone sir, all fuel cocks are sealed and covered over.”
“Main power?”
“Forty percent and climbing, no abnormalities.”
“Very well.” She turned to Mallory. “Sir, the ship is ready to depart.”
“Then by all means XO, take us out.”
Jane nodded and took up position beside the two helmsmen.
“Gravitic propulsion only, make your velocity five metres per second, hold steady until we clear the docks, then follow course to the first marker.”

Almost imperceptibly the ship began to move, gliding from between the vast solid docking arms that had shielded it during its stay. She picked up a steady speed, her main engines idling as her gravitic systems pushed against the station. Most military vessels had gravitic drives, an extension of the artificial gravity which had been arguably the most astounding scientific breakthrough since the splitting of the atom. The system itself was still in its infancy and while useful it only really worked when it had something to push against, like a planet or other source of artificial gravity. It meant vessels could take off and land on planetary surfaces, usually oceans, without great difficulty but further out in the expanse of interplanetary space the drives were fairly useless necessitating the retention of conventional ion or fusion thrusters.

A crowd had gathered to watch the Amethyst leave, lining the windows around the docking bay with their eyes fixed on the sleek black hull. The departure of any military vessel tended to attract attention from both fleet personnel and civilians alike, especially if that vessel was rare or special in some way. It was fairly unusual for a Stealth ship to put in at such a well used installation and most of those gathered had never seen a ship like her before, drawing a considerable amount of attention. Most were just curious, but it was almost certain a good number of the observers were foreign agents taking in every detail of the small warship.
As she passed by the Battleship Nelson berthed beside her she briefly winked her formation lights, a sign of respect to the much larger and more senior ship. In acknowledgement the capital ship returned the gesture, her duty officer blinking his starboard signal light to spell out a message in old Morse code. God Speed.

The dockworkers paused in their tasks as the dark dart slid past them silently, watching her leave through the curved visors of their space suits with the best view on the station. Most waved, receiving their own acknowledgement from the Amethyst’s signal lights. Despite their antique nature signal lights had become standard fit to all ships. Unlike radio signals which could be jammed and interfered with it was very hard to disrupt a light source unless you could physically get between it and its destination. Given the nature of space a signal light could be seen from vast distances, providing one knew where to look, and was a favoured fall back if electronic communications failed.

Finally she emerged from the walls of the dock, stretching out into open space like an animal returned to the wild, basking once more in the freedom of its natural environment. Several small civilian ships had also gathered to watch her leave, kept back by a pair of EU Coastguard patrols so they didn’t get in the way of the reversing warship. The Amethyst passed between her curious honour guard with the grace and elegance of an aristocrat and then made ready to begin her journey.

“Bye bye Mars.” April motioned with a tiny hint of regret. “Next stop Neptune.”
“Yeah.” Pete answered absently, his attention focused on the palm camera. Both were stood alone on the observation deck looking out through the magnificent panoramic windows. They offered an amazing perspective on their departure, twice as good as the first class lounges on civilian Clipper ships, and Pete was taking advantage of every second.
“Think this glass is bullet proof?” April wondered. “I mean it’s a bit of a weak spot isn’t it?”
“Nobody comes up here normally remember.” Pete said. “This place is deserted most of the time, doesn’t really matter if it takes a hit or not.”
“Just a waste of space then isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily.” Pete answered, still with eyes locked on the camera. “The guy I’m bunked with says they come here to do visual checks on ships they pass close by. They literally look out the window with binoculars or telescopes or something.”
“They look out the window?” April huffed. “What is this? The Nineteenth Century?”

“Don’t knock it, you can fool most sensors or at least block them, sometimes the best way to spot something is with the good old fashioned human eyeball, especially if you’re rigged for silent running and you’re on bare minimum power.”
April frowned, watching the grey of Ares station pass by several dozen metres away. “I’m having a hard time believing anyone with such a high tech ship uses such primitive systems.”
“You weren’t paying attention were you?” Pete grinned. “Didn’t you see all the back ups as we were taken to our rooms?”
So drew a blank. “No, I was too busy trying to remember my damn way.”
“This ship is full of low tech, right alongside the new stuff. I saw levers, wheels, hand cranks, cogs.” He listed with satisfaction. “Half the clocks are mechanical, they actually have wire telephone lines for communication and I saw hand wound winches in the air locks.”
“That makes no sense at all.”

“Sure it does, we’re on a stealth ship remember?” Pete enthused over his new knowledge. “The big deal they have is controlling emissions, anything powered by electricity runs the risk of being detected, so I guess when the ship is on silent running they power down their main systems and use all these old fashioned back ups. Pretty clever really.”
“Until you lose a finger in a spring loaded door.” April grunted. “They’re not going to make us endure that are they?”
“I doubt it, only if we end up fighting someone.” Pete shrugged. “And if we did I’m sure they’d lock us in our rooms to keep us out of the way.”
“Fine by me.”
She looked out of the window for a few more long moments, picking out people stood behind windows in the station. They were waving but she did not wave back, assuming they couldn’t see her behind the tinted windows of the warship. Slowly the view widened, more of the station coming into view as the Amethyst moved clear and into the shipping lanes.
“No way back now.” She muttered softly.

Their view began to shift, the orientation changing as the Amethyst rotated, turning her bow from the station and pointing it out into deep space, readying to take that dive into eternity. As she did so more ships became visible reminding the two reporters that they were still in the middle of one of the busiest shipping lanes in the system. Dozens of large civilian ships waited for their turn to either dock at or depart the station, vessels of all shapes and sizes from elegant cruise ships to vast dirty bulk ore haulers. In and amongst them were shuttles and courier services transferring people to and from the Red Planet below, and carrying eager tourists on a quick tour of the station and the ships held in its many arms.

“Pete, that one.” She tapped his shoulder and pointed at a ship that had caught her eye. “Get that one on film!”
Floating past beside them was a bulk freighter, one of the common ore carriers that brought raw or refined materials from the extraction operations on Asteroids and moons in the outer system and fed them to manufacturing plants closer to civilisation. This particular ship was an exceptionally large one, a modular design where gigantic cargo pods were attached to a long central framework liberally interspersed with engines and a small crew section on the bow.
“What the hell happened to it?” He grimaced, panning the camera to take in its enormous bulk. “Accident?”
April shook her head. “Ten to one it was mercenaries, that’s the second shot up ship we’ve seen and we’ve only been here half a day.”
The freighter had indeed been shot to pieces, its cargo pods shattered and split open bearing just a fraction of their original loads. The long thin hull had been truncated with about a third of its length missing from the back and a tangle of girders and conduits hanging loose like severed arteries instead. It looked more like a floating junk pile, its components barely held together and in many places attached only by fibres of metal and twisted locks and clamps The whole thing looked incredibly sad, like some great sea serpent limping home to die.

“It’s one of ours.” He zoomed in on the front of the ship. “American registered, Errol Corp.”
“Errol Corp.” April sighed. “I hate that son of a bitch, and boy do I want to see him fall, but it isn’t worth seeing innocent people shot at like this. He knows there’s a war going on out here and he still sends unarmed ships into the middle of it!”
“Profits gotta keep flowing.” Pete grunted bitterly, taking in the pair of tugs hauling the smashed freighter to the station, a medical ship already alongside helping any wounded crew.
“Yeah.” April snarled. “And you know something? Maybe he wants this to happen, maybe he wants ships gunned down like that.”
“They’re his ships though, he’s got to pay to fix them.” Pete said. “Why would he let himself lose money?”
“So the media fill up with images of American ships punched full of holes, and American workers murdered.” April intoned darkly. “To make people so mad they force the government to step in.”
“You mean send in the Navy?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Remember what the Admiral said? These mercs are powerful but a true military fleet would flatten them. If the President sends the Navy into the belt, the Chinese will have to do the same.”
“Stand off.”
“Between the two biggest military powers ever to exist.” April shuddered slightly. “Not a great situation.”

One by one the ships faded out of view, crossing behind the Amethyst as she picked up speed, the deck humming with power as raw energy surged through the hull, vibrating the ship like the beating of a heart. Even as they cleared the main shipping lines April could still see occasional sparkles in space, cargo or ice crystals that had escaped from the ripped up freighter being towed to Ares station.
“It is pretty dangerous out here.” April said. “At least if you’re American.”
“Or Chinese.” Pete reminded. “I think our hosts have the right idea staying the hell away.”
“Maybe, but if the Chinese Premier and our leaders don’t back down, and if no one else intervenes, you can see where this is going.”
“It’s not going to go to war.” Pete shook his head. “That’d be crazy.”
“Why not? Everyone said the same thing about all the other big wars.” April defended. “They always said no one would be dumb enough to go to war after the last slaughter, but they always did.”
“There hasn’t been a major war for a century and a half, not since the middle Twentieth.” Pete responded. “We moved on, people aren’t the same anymore.”

“And that is where you are wrong.” April countered. “People never change, never. You take a Roman and put him here, sure he’ll be surprised at the technology, but he’ll understand the motivation. He’ll understand greed and fear and pride. The world changes, the people in it don’t.”
“Yeah, but people aren’t stupid.”
“Wanna bet?”
Pete cackled. “Okay, bad point, but they aren’t suicidal. We’ve fought a few wars since the last World War, but they were in the Middle East or Africa or Latin America, small countries and normally most of our time was spent fighting terrorists and insurgents. No one with half a brain cell would try to start a war with another super power.”
“But that’s exactly what is happening, both nations are getting closer to conflict.” April pointed out. “Half our government is in favour of a short war out here to bloody the Chinese navy and finally sort out business in the Belt, and I know almost all of the Chinese government is in favour.”
“Short glorious war.” Pete winced. “That’s how they all start.”
“If you turn the tables, say we get pushed out of the Belt, do you really think that’ll be the end of it? That the President would just hold up his hands, admit defeat and walk away?”
“He’d grab every ship and go back in there guns blazing.”
“Damn right he would.” April nodded firmly. “And so would the Chinese.”

The Amethyst passed a pair of markers, small stationary buoys indicating where the various routes in and out of the station were. The Frigate had moved away from the civilian shipping by now and was cruising along a military path, the blinking lights of the markers now the only visible sign that humanity and touched this part of nothingness.
“I don’t think the American people want a war, or the Chinese either probably.” April reasoned. “They just don’t know what to do to stop it. They’re starved of information, the Nets are so heavily regulated and so full of biased reporting it’s hard for the average Joe to get some straight facts.”
“If people knew they’d be more vocal.” Pete said. “I don’t think people fear war, they’ve been told so much about us being invincible they’re not scared anymore. They think we can do anything we want, that the US fleet is unchallenged.”
“Old habits.” April answered quietly. “We have missile shields, ground based artillery, more defence grids and satellites than you’d believe, and the Navy has a lot of raw tonnage. What they don’t know is that the Chinese have just as much firepower as we do, probably more.”

“Every news report says the Chinese Navy is under funded and falling apart, that they are all under trained and hopelessly outmatched. And people believe it.” Pete nodded. “They think we can’t lose, hell they are starting to demand a war! They want to give the Chinese a lesson in who calls the shots out here.”
“It’s going to get us all killed.” April shook her head slowly. “I mean a ship this big is going to have enough nukes in its belly to level a decent sized country, if only one single Chinese ship breaks through orbit, or sneaks under the grid…”
“Say goodbye to the East Coast.”
“Half a billion people back home, another three billion in the Chinese sphere, hundreds of millions on the Moon, Mars and artificial colonies. Lot of lives at risk, all in the balance because Cyrus fucking Errol wants to make more blood money.”

“The Chinese are just as bad, I mean Madam Heng…”
“Is China’s problem.” April cut in. “Errol is ours, so we better handle him and hope our example sets some new rules.”
“You know I’m with you on that, you know I’m all for it.” Pete supported. “But even if we get evidence out here, how do we let America know?”
“I’ll find a way.” She affirmed. “A story this big can’t be suppressed, they’d have to kill us and everyone on this ship.”
“You think they won’t? If it comes to it, you really think they wouldn’t erase the two of us?”
“Course they would, but they can’t blow up this ship, no way would they risk war with Europe at the same time as China is breathing down their necks. Even Brook isn’t that dumb.”
“Guess we just need the story then.”
“Guess so.” April set her eyes on the path ahead of them, featureless and devoid of any comforts or welcome. “It’s there waiting for us, and we’re coming to collect.”


Things seemed to settle down very quickly into a routine, the ship relaxing and preparing itself for the long voyage ahead. It seemed the crew were conserving their energy just as much as the ship was, walking at an easy pace back and forth to their duties and exchanging cheerful pleasantries as they passed friends and comrades. April and Pete spent another ten minutes making background shots of space to be edited into their documentary, the shifting of star patterns and flicker of marker lights passing slowly by their large windows.
“All well up here?”
Jane Rhodes waited at the door, dressed down in white shirt sleeves and dark blue trousers rather than the more formal uniform she had worn on the station. The basic duty uniform for most Navies was very similar, a casual but still smart dress code that would usually be sealed inside a pressure suit in times of emergency.

“Nice view.” April returned with a bright smile, which then faded. “Did you see the freighter?”
“The Errol Corp one?” She inquired. “Yes, we saw it. Someone did a number on her, but that’s no surprise anymore.”
“You don’t think it was an accident then?” She asked, careful to note Pete was recording.
“It wasn’t an accident, analysis of the damage suggests a mix of light calibre rail gun rounds and high explosive missiles. Standard load out for private security companies, or as they should be called Mercenaries and Assassins.”
“Ever run into these Mercenaries Commander?”
“All the time.” She said. “We’ll probably see a few on this trip.”
April grinned again, exactly what she wanted to hear.

“Now we’re under way I thought you could use a tour of the ship.” Jane continued. “You’ll be here for a while so you should get to know your way around, just in case you need to get somewhere by yourself.”
“Sounds great.”
“Well you’ve already seen up here, main airlocks, fuel cocks, observation deck.” Jane listed. “Over our head is the main sensor mast and that’s about it. We have some emergency accommodation behind where we are stood in case we have to pick up anyone in deep space, say an outpost crew or a deep range ship in difficulty. We’ve never had cause to use it.”
“I think we can skip that.” April nodded.
“Good, if you follow me we’ll start at the back and make our way forward.” Jane beckoned them to follow. “First stop, engine room.”

They took the lift down through the ship, the car sliding laterally once it reached the appropriate deck and depositing them in a section of the ship heavy with the smell of ozone.
“The turbolift network is pretty basic in a ship this size, it only covers the main locations.” Jane informed. “Engineering, Reactor room, Shuttle bay, Conn, Main Quarters and Gunnery. Beyond that you have to walk but Amethyst really isn’t so big that it’s a problem, not like a battleship or those Supercarriers you Yanks love. Sorry, Americans.”
“Don’t worry about that.” April laughed. “I’m a Dixie girl myself, can’t stand Yankees.”
Beside her Pete cleared his throat.
“Present Company accepted.” She allowed. “Not all you Northerners are self righteous assholes.”
“I choose to take that as a compliment.” Pete chuckled back, it was a reassuringly familiar topic of banter.

 

[Harlock]

Jane cranked open a door to reveal a large room beyond dominated by a large cylinder several metres wide surrounded by hundreds of thick protruding pipes. The air was freezing in the chamber and much to April’s appreciation Jane did not lead them in.
“Main engine.” She said. “Rolls Royce Glaslyn Class Ion drive. They tend to burn pretty hot so most of what you see there is cooling shrouds, the engine itself is buried right in the middle somewhere.”
Pete took a few pictures. “Is it fast?”
“Pretty decent acceleration for its size, but they were built more for efficiency over speed.” Jane answered his question. “More important for the job we do.”
“Makes sense.” April agreed.
“We run this engine when we need to change course or pick up a little velocity. It’s idle right now but it’s due for a long burn in a few minutes to get us on our way.”
“But if you were hiding you wouldn’t use it?” Pete guessed.
“Exactly.” Jane agreed. “We also have four more engines mounted externally around this one. We use them for a little extra acceleration if necessary or fire them individually for sharp course changes. They can also thrust backwards if we need to stop fast or make a really sharp turn.”
“Bet that’s fun.” Pete huffed.
“The artificial gravity helps take the edge off, but it’s only good for about four or five G’s. Anymore than that and you’re really going to feel it, that’s why we have seatbelts. Hopefully we won’t need them on this trip.”

She closed the door and sealed it shut with an old fashioned lever, then led them down a long corridor parallel with the engine chamber heading forward through the ship. The corridor was frequently interrupted with bulkheads, but in this case the doors were stood open. Again wires and conduits were prominent on the walls bound into thick bundles, and April was quick to notice the red painted air hoses dotted here and there in case of an emergency.
“The engines take up about a third of the ship.” Jane explained as they stepped over the doorframes. “Lot of space really, but we also squeeze in a few other systems around it like the main Gravity generator and the cryo exchanger for the hull to keep us as cold as space.”
She paused at another heavy door. “After the engines we have the reactor.”
This time they went through the door and entered a clean white room flanked on left and right by consoles and monitor panels. The end of the room some ten metres away ended in more consoles looking out of thickly reinforced windows, and beyond them was the reactor itself.

“Miss Conroy, Mr Muller, Lieutenant Commander John Kendle.” She pointed out a man in pale grey overalls. “Our chief engineer.”
“Afternoon.” He said as if he had just been forced to break a vow of silence. “Don’t touch anything.”
“How are things?” Jane asked. “All normal?”
“Naturally, if anything wasn’t normal you’d be the first to know.”
The First officer smiled despite herself, then turned to the reporters. “You can see the reactor there, and the electricity generators around it. Fully enclosed system.”
The reactor was a building sized sphere festooned with static vanes and catwalks. It was possible to enter the chamber itself but right now it was deserted, controlled from this room alone. Four cylindrical generators towered around it sucking energy from the sphere and transforming it into more useable forms.

“We’re running at fairly low capacity right now.” Jane continued her factual presentation. “Usually there’s not much need to run at full power but a few times a trip we run it up anyway just to make sure it still works.”
Kendle scoffed in the background. “Course it bloody works.”
“Mr Kendle is rather protective of his department.” Jane half apologised. “We put up with him because he is very good at his job, and because murder is illegal.”
“Our First Officer is also a comedienne.” Kendle raised his voice. “We always said her promotion was the biggest joke.”
“Touché.” Jane allowed. “We better move on before this turns ugly. There may be scratching and hair pulling.”

She led them through a door on the other side of the room emerging into another very similar corridor.
“Those are the secondary reactors, through those doors.” She pointed out as they walked along. “Not much to see, just tiny versions of the main reactor, eight little spheres and a bunch of generators.”
“For emergencies?” April asked.
“And also if we need a boost. Normally we turn them on to feed the secondary engines or give the rail guns a bit more punch.”
“Ever needed to?”
“Only during drills.” Jane answered. “We’ve never run into trouble.”
“So this ship isn’t battle tested?”
“No, none of these Stealth ships has seen combat, which is rather the point.” She replied. “On this side…” She banged her hand against the opposite side of the corridor. “…Is the main fuel tank, well one of them. There’s another on the opposite side. Saddle tanks.”
“And what’s on the other side of them?” April wondered.
“Nothing, the wide black yonder.”
“Your fuel tanks are on the outside? Isn’t that risky?”

“Not really.” Jane responded. “I know capital ships keep their fuel somewhere in the middle under heavy armour, but on this ship there is no heavy armour. Doesn’t matter where we put it, inside or out, we’ve got nothing that will stop a direct hit from an enemy ship of our size or bigger.”
“Is a fuel hit dangerous?” Pete asked. “I mean it’s not gasoline or chemical rocket fuel is it?”
“No, just H3.” Jane nodded. “But it’s kept under extremely high pressure, compressed under artificial gravity. It’s how a ship this small can stay out so long, we can carry twice our mass in fuel if we wanted. It’s squeezed down so much it’s almost solid rather than a gas, and if something went wrong with containment, well, ever shake a beer can then prick a hole in it?”

“Pretty violent reaction.” Pete stated the obvious.
“You can say that again.” Jane confirmed. “If we’re lucky the whole ship just explodes as the pressure is released, or we’re squished to jam as it jets out the side and throws us off in a random direction at a few hundred G’s.”
“You call that’s lucky?”
“The other option is a steady leak that pushes us into deep space and pours away all our fuel. We drift until we run out of air and food, which could be months. Don’t know about you but I’d prefer to go quick.”
“I’d rather not go at all.” April countered. “Do we have escape pods?”
“A few, near the crew bays.” The Officer confirmed. “Problem is we tend to operate so far beyond the normal shipping lanes it could take weeks, even months for another ship to get out here. There’s no escape pod built that can last that long.”
“Well that’s depressing.”
“Welcome to the final frontier.”

They entered the lift again and descended another couple of decks, the Amethyst only having ten habitable decks total.
“Storage bays.” Jane continued. “We’re right in the belly, ahead of us towards the front are the cargo bays taking up everything along the keel, and behind us is the shuttle bay.”
She led them to a small control booth which looked out into the bay, a good three decks tall in its own right with heavy double doors right at the back. Two shuttles were parked side by side in the bay consuming three quarters of the space even with their wings folded around their oblong bodies. From the roof of the bay hung a dozen black cylinders.
“What are those?” Pete pointed up.
“Nuclear mines.” Jane answered. “I can’t really say more.”
“Oh I think that’s enough.” Pete nodded. “So you drop them in the path of enemy ships, or I guess push them towards planets and bases?”
“I can’t really comment on our tactics.”
“So that’s pretty much a yes then?”
“I can’t comment, one of those national security things.” Jane held her calm.
“Fair enough.” Pete shrugged.

“We keep the bay unpressurised, only pump in air if we need it, which is quite rare.” She pressed on with the topic. “Not much need for us to take our own shuttles down to a planet.”
She gently herded them out of the booth.
“Nuclear weapons then.” April remarked.
“This is a warship Miss Conroy, there is a requirement for us to be able to blow stuff up.”
“Guess I was surprised to see such a small ship with so many weapons.”
“We’re well provided for.” Jane returned. “The cargo bays are a bit dull, lots of boxes and tanks. Food and water mainly, and the waste recycling system.”
“Always wanted a picture of the waste recycling system.” Pete joked. “Pretty please?”
“If you do you’ll miss the guns.”
“Guns you say?”
“Next stop.”

Instead of taking the lifts the ascended three flights of narrow stairs up to their next level, emerging onto one more completely indistinct corridor. Each one was marked regularly with a series of numbers telling the crew exactly where they were, but it would take the reporters a while to figure it all out.
“Even though we have lifts most of the crew takes the stairs, keeps everyone fit.” Jane related. This is the Crew section, which you’ve already seen. Bunks, heads, which is bathrooms for you civilian types, the galley, mess hall, wardroom, sickbay, Gym and recreation rooms. We run three shifts so in theory everyone has eight hours every day free. We expect the crew to keep fit, eat a square meal and finish any paper work in that time, but the rest is theirs to do as they see fit.”
“Is there enough to keep busy here for five months?” April asked.
“We usually find something to do.” Jane said. “Within reason, this is a mixed crew but we have our rules about fraternisation between genders.”
“Such as?”
No boffing.” Jane smiled. “That’s about it.”

She pointed out a few common areas as they walked through, already noting a few crew members taking a few moments off duty.
“We receive frequent messages from home, video letters, the latest film and Net broadcasts.” The Commander ran through. “There’s enough of a time lag to prevent real time communication being practical, but we’re rarely out of touch. Even when we’re running silent we can still pick up signals.”
“Do you ever feel claustrophobic?”
“Thank heaven no!” Jane laughed. “But if all this doesn’t take your mind off it there’s the observation deck. Lot of people go up there just to look out at space, me included. Incredibly relaxing actually.”
“No offence, but you don’t seem like the type that needs to relax.” April offered.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Winked Jane. “But we all need to take a few moments here and there, keep your feet on the ground.”

She opened another door at the end of the corridor and entered a more enclosed space, leading them in a circle before entering another darkly lit room barely ten feet by ten feet square.
“Gunnery control.” She brought them in. “Currently empty, we only man this place when there’s trouble brewing.”
“What if you get taken by surprise?” Questioned April.
“Normally the weapons are controlled from the Conn, this place is a back up in case the worst happens.” The XO replied. “It’s fully contained, if the rest of the ship was smashed and this room was all that was left we could still fight. Well, assuming we had a bit of power and a cannon.”
Pete looked over the consoles. “You have missiles? I didn’t see any racks or tubes?”
“The doors are flush with the hull, four tubes near the bow.” Jane said. “The bow itself is solid metal, an armoured slug common to most ships. Our attack profile is to engage head on so we expect to take fire from the front. What little armour we have is therefore concentrated forward. Might actually be enough to take a hit or two from a destroyer.”
“But you wouldn’t like to test that theory.” April guessed.
“Not if we can help it.” She agreed. “The missiles are our main weapons, we carry twenty which is all that can fit, pretty big devices.”
“Are they nuclear?”

“No comment.” Jane evaded. “Our secondary weapons are rail guns, eight five inch cannons in four twin turrets, two up, two down arranged for concentrated forward or broadside fire.”
“What if an enemy is above you or behind?”
“Then we roll the ship.” Jane smiled. “There is no up or down out here, we just twist and turn until we reach an optimum firing solution.”
“Are those guns pretty good then?”
“Standard for Frigates and destroyers, they fire a hundred ton solid spear round usually, a tapered dart with a razor sharp point. They are multirole weapons though, so we can fire canister shells to deal with attack drones or radiological shells to illuminate any Stealth ships.”
“And nuclear rounds?”
“They exist, but I cannot confirm if we have any.”
“Of course not.”

“Behind the superstructure we also have a six barrelled chain gun, only one inch calibre but very fast firing, can fill the sky with metal. Good against drones and light ships. Beside them we also have sixteen point defence lasers, very useful weapons and great for bringing down missiles or nuclear rail gun rounds. Only down side with them is we can’t operate bigger versions, the brains back home keep trying to fit heavy calibre laser guns to things but the components don’t scale well. They tend to melt.”
“Would a laser be better than a rail cannon?”
“Of equal power? Definitely. Rail rounds travel pretty slow, a good ship can dodge them at long range. Can’t dodge a laser heading your way at light speed.”
“I heard a few bases actually had giant lasers.” Pete contributed.
“They do, but they things are insanely huge.” Jane nodded. “Not for the weapons themselves but for the cooling systems to prevent them turning into puddles. I spoke to one of their gunnery officers a few months ago, they have the power of a battleship spinal cannon, but weigh literally twice as much as a battleship themselves. Needs a space station reactor to operate them. Still, not like a base is going anywhere, and the range advantage is worth the trouble of operating those monsters when you can’t dodge.”

She led them back out of the room, sealing the door behind her.
“They say Ike has ten of those things.” Pete remarked, referring to the Eisenhower Space Fortress, the US Fleet’s main base.
“It might do.” Jane accepted. “Money was never much of an issue for the US Navy. I know some European and Oceanic bases have had a few installed, it’s a safe bet the Chinese, Russians and Indians have them too.”
“How much range do they have?”
“As far as you can see, diffusion on something that big is almost a non issue.” Jane answered. “Same as any weapon, though given the size of those guns they’re going to be hard to aim, not much use against small ships.”
“Must be pretty powerful.” April guessed.
“They are built to melt battleships.” Jane answered. “If you missed and hit a civilian target? Might as well have dropped a strategic nuke on them. Not something you want to mess around with.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” April grimaced. “If you miss all those bullets just keep flying don’t they? I mean in a major battle you could have thousands of projectiles whizzing around ready to pulverise anything in their path.”
“That’s why we have rules and conventions.” Jane informed. “We never point weapons towards Earth, or Mars, or anywhere habitable. We’re supposed to fight parallel to the orbital planes, above or below them preferably with our weapons aimed up or down into deep space, not inwards where they could cross someone’s orbit.”
“Even these small ships, you fire what was it? Hundred ton rounds?” April asked. “That could cause utter carnage if it hit a city, leave a mile wide crater!”
“Which is why we have rules of engagement, all the nations agreed to them years ago.” Jane reassured. “We all have to live on Earth no matter where we come from, dropping a few thousand tons of high speed metal down there does no one any favours. Combat on or around Earth is strictly banned, anyone trying it would get piled on by every other nation on the planet.”
“But that relies on people obeying the rules doesn’t it?” April highlighted. “If China and the US starting fighting above Earth, would Europe step in?”
“I don’t know, in theory everyone would step in and force them to back down. They should, but given the climate these days, I honestly don’t know. No one sane wants another war, seems only a few people actually do. Bad news is those few people are also the ones with their fingers on the button.”
April sighed. “Don’t we know it.”
“Come on.” Jane perked up. “Last stop.”

They backtracked around the gunnery room and turned back into the heart of the ship. Wedged in among the crew areas and the emergency power batteries was the Control Room.
“Here we are, the Conn.” Jane led them in, earning a few disinterested glances from the crew. It was a fairly long and narrow room that was clearly evolved from the control rooms on submarines. Consoles lined both walls with the helm situated on the forward facing bulkhead. A holographic plotting table commanded the centre of the room behind which was the Captain’s chair presenting him with an easy view of each station. Each of the officers and crew present seemed deeply focused on their tasks and chatter was minimal.
“Just like you see on movies.” April appreciated. “Guess they got something right.”
“We’ve had a lot of time to refine the layout, make it as efficient as we can.” Jane walked through, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the various crew members. “We’ve streamlined it down to work as fast and accurate as we can get, if anything happens we’ll see it, report it, and decide what to do immediately.”

The walls were lined with screens, along with several holographic projectors that were currently inactive. Each member of the bridge crew wore a headset hooked around their right ear, a thin metal strip that looped around their brow above the eyes.
“What do those do?” April asked about the small devices.
“Data feeds.” Jane answered. “They project a small holographic image immediately in front of the wearers eyes, acts like a Heads Up Display, allows us to keep up to date with relevant information wherever we’re looking. Also has a little radio built in so we can all keep in touch, we all have one and keep it on us at all times.”
She reached into her pocket and retrieved her own headset, a long looping curve of thin silver wire.
“Pretty expensive, and we tend to break quite a few in day to day work, but incredibly useful. Wherever in the ship we are we can just put this on and review the same information you’d see up here, or issue orders as if you were stood right here. Best part is the direct sensor feed though, let me show you.”

Carefully she wrapped the headset around April’s ear and shaped it to rest on her brow. It weighed nothing and she expected it would be easy to forget you were wearing it. She stayed still until the Officer finished then looked around.
“I don’t see anything.”
“One moment…there.”
Her vision quickly changed, the Control room replaced by a field of stars. She was mildly surprised and turned her head only to see the star field shift with her.
“What do you think?” Jane asked with a smile in her voice. “You’re basically looking through the ship’s eyes, live visual feeds from our external sensor net.”
“Wow.” She grinned, turning around and looking through the holograph. Behind her she could see Mars still quite clearly, the faint glimmer of Ares station hanging over it like a jewel. Several other complexes also hung like sparkles suspended above the rusty world, along with moving specks of light that could only be ships going about their business. “It’s like I could reach out and touch them.”
“Careful, try to stand still.” Jane cautioned gently. “Most people are so impressed they forget they’re on a small cluttered ship and tend to trip over something.”

April’s wide grin did not fade. “This is the best show I’ve ever seen, they should sell this on the civilian market, people would love it.”
“Trade secrets.” Jane smiled, deactivating the headset and carefully removing it. “We can use it to look at space through the other sensors too, seek heat sources, EM emissions, that sort of thing, but it’s not half as pretty.”
“Quite an experience, kind of makes you feel small.” April considered, blinking her eyes to focus back on the world before her.
“Puts things in perspective.” The First Officer agreed.

“It’s important to remember your place in things out here.” Commander Mallory addressed, walking around the navigation table to join them. “Worst thing anyone can do is not give this place their total respect. You have to take care in everything you do, it only takes one mistake to get you killed. Maybe everyone around you too.”
“It’s not just outside, even in here it’s dangerous.” Jane carried on. “The reactor, the cooling systems, ammunition hoists, airlocks. You have to take care or you could lose a limb.”
“I’m happy to allow you access to anywhere the crew goes, essentially the places you’ve already seen. Beyond that the rest of the ship is automated and no place for people.” Mallory informed sternly. “Stay in the crewed areas and you’ll be fine, don’t bother people who look busy, and if you break something or see something that looks wrong for goodness sake tell someone. Fast.”
“Okay, that’s fair.” April agreed. “And in return we’d like to witness every aspect of what you do, and have access to the external sensors.”
Mallory paused for thought. “I’ll clear you for the visual sensors, should be enough to give you some nice footage.”
“That’s fine by us.”
“Good, very good.” Mallory smiled widely. “Then I think we’ll get on just fine.”
“Great.” April cheered. “So what are we going to do next?”

“We’re just clearing the Mars shipping lanes.” Mallory stated, turning to the navigation plotting table. “We have to keep a low velocity in case something crosses our path, but now we’re in open space we can open up the throttles a little.”
He tapped in a few commands and the surface of the table lit up, beams of light flickering like flames of blue, red and yellow until they stabilised into a holographic representation of the solar system, an image familiar to every child of humanity.
“This is where we are, just leaving Mars.” Mallory pointed out. “We’re going to use the main transit lanes out to the asteroid belt, then head direct to Saturn. Once there we slingshot around the planet to save us a bit of fuel and aim for Neptune.”
As he spoke a red line traced across the map indicating their route, the planets slowly rotating and circling as the projected time index of the journey counted up.
“At Neptune we drop off a few supplies for an EU science station investigating the planet, then we come home via Saturn again. Two months out, two months back one month for grace. Though if nothing gets in our way we could probably shave about a quarter off that estimate.”

April’s eyes traced the long line there and back, a few inches on the display but representing hundreds of millions of miles in reality.
“What else is out there?”
“Not much.” Mallory said. “Mars is the big colony, the Asteroid belt is pretty busy these days and Jupiter has a large presence, but there’s not much at Saturn and even less further out than that.”
“Any military bases?”
“A few, but most of the stations out beyond Jupiter are civilian, not much call for warships out there.” The Commander said. “Nothing worth shooting.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if we ran into a few ships at Saturn.” Jane observed practically. “Both the US and China have research stations out there, last I heard both were sending military escorts.”
“Oh good, another potential stand off.” Mallory grimaced. “Still, if we don’t slingshot at Saturn it’s going to add two or three weeks to our trip and cost us fuel. We’ll just have to loudly announce who we are and that we don’t care about their little pissing contest.”

“That’ll be new.” Jane remarked with mild amusement. “A stealth ship swaggering around broadcasting on all frequencies.”
“I’d prefer to sneak past, but we’ll be pretty close to the planet and a lot easier to spot. If we have a bunch of American and Chinese warships pointing loaded guns at each other I don’t want to be the man who jumps out of the dark and yells ‘boo’ at them.”
“So we won’t be playing hide and seek this trip?” Jane asked with a hint of disappointment.
“No, I think not.” Mallory exhaled. “Things are a little tense to be playing with this time. Keep the running lights on, and the transponder.”
“Aye sir, and what about the Net uplink?”
“Leave it switched on.” He ordered. “If we can’t keep the crew busy hiding from everyone we may as well let them entertain themselves. Standard restrictions only.”
“I think you just cheered up everyone on board.” Jane chuckled. “And there goes the outer marker, we’re clear of Mars orbital space.”

“Miss Conroy, Mr Muller, might be an idea to sit down for a moment.” Mallory suggested. “We’ll be activating the main engine and it usually takes a few moments for the artificial gravity to compensate for the acceleration.”
“Couple of chairs here.” Jane pointed out. “Don’t want you skidding across the deck on your arse.” She paused. “Well, I do actually but I’m willing to forego that pleasure for the sake of Anglo-American relations.”
“I’m touched, truly.” April gently mocked.
The two reporters took a seat at the back of the Conn, Pete recording the activity that had now grabbed the previously reserved crew.

“Miss Fisher, course check?” Commander Mallory began his checks, settling down in his commander’s chair.
“Confirmed sir, course set and locked.”
“Any obstacles ahead?”
“Negative sir, scopes are clear.” Lieutenant Cheyo reported.
He tapped his headset. “Mr Kendle, engine status?”
“All set Commander, reactor at full efficiency, everything in the green.”
“Understood, prepare for boost.” Mallory. “Miss Rhodes, if you please.”
Jane made her way to the communication console and activated the ship wide speakers. “All hands, all hands. Prepare for boost.”
“Alright then ladies and gentlemen.” Mallory waited until Jane had found her own chair and belted herself in. “Helm, begin main engine start.”
The entire ship began to shudder gently, power surging through huge conduits as the main ion engine began to glow into life, a faint greenish blue light brightening at the stern as magnetic constrictors buzzed with electrical energy.
“Opening fuel injectors.” The helmsman reported. “Main engine engaging.”

There was a hard jolt as the charged ions flooded through the engine chamber of the Frigate, picked up by the rings of electromagnets and hurled at immense speed from the back of the ship. A massive volume of gas was jetted into the blackness of space, a green and blue torch of bright light extending hundreds of metres away like the tail of a comet, jabbing into the night.
The crew were pressed back into their chairs, April feeling her chest constrict as G forces pushed against her. Fortunately it was a brief sensation and immediately began to lessen, returning more or less to normal within ten seconds or so.
“Gravity generators adjusted sir.” Jane reported. “All systems normal.”
“Secure from boost stations.” Mallory commanded. “Next course change helm?”
“Approach to the Asteroid belt, approximately two weeks.” Fisher stated. “We’re scheduled for a six hour burn before shutting down and letting inertia do the rest sir.”
“No rush.” Mallory accepted. “Let’s start setting up some plots, Miss Cheyo begin a comprehensive sensor sweep, I want estimates on everything bigger than a golf ball for half a light hour in every direction.”
“Yes sir.”
“Miss Rhodes, would you escort our guests back to the crew section, make sure they’re aware of all our facilities.”
“Will do sir.”
“Hope you settle in comfortably.” Mallory addressed the two news people. “Oh, and welcome aboard, dinner is at Eighteen hundred, I’ll see you there.”

 

[Harlock]

4

Near the Asteroid Belt


“Good morning Miss Conroy, rise and shine.”
April blinked with a touch of annoyance as the curtain of her bunk was drawn back allowing the bright LED illumination to bathe her eyelids.
“Do I have to?” She enquired plaintively.
“Not necessarily.” Jane Rhodes grinned almost maniacally. “But if you want to document our arrival at the Asteroid belt…”
She exhaled a futile sigh. “You couldn’t have timed your arrival for the afternoon?”
“It’s Nine hundred hours Miss Conroy, I would have thought be now you’d have settled into our shifts.” Jane chuckled. “But no, you were still happily snoring away when I woke up three hours ago.”
“What? I don’t snore!” April defended. “I’m a girl!”
“In that case you must have been drilling holes in the wall. My mistake.” Jane prodded. “Come on, you’ve got a spot on the Conn.”

April pushed herself out of bed, being careful not to catch her head on the overhead bunk Jane occupied. It had taken three bumps before she settled into the habit of rolling out of bed first and then sitting up second.
“I hate mornings.”
“Best time of the day.” Jane related cheerfully. “Fresh, lively, full of energy. Well, unless you lost a drinking competition with our Chief Engineer…”
“Oh.” April winced visibly. “That.”
“This is a very small ship and word travels fast.” Jane grinned. “But good effort.”
“Now I know why our own ships don’t have alcohol on board.” The American Reported grunted, rising from bed and opening the small wardrobe.
“I have some de-tox pills if…”
“No, hell no.” April replied quickly. “Keep those things away from me, I’ll be fine.”
“Not a problem.” The Officer spoke with amusement. “We kept some cereal for you, we’re expecting you in about a half hour. Good for you?”
“I’ll make it.” The reporter replied, selecting one of her five changes of clothing from storage.
“Might want to fix your hair too.” Jane offered helpfully. “You look like Medusa.”
“Thanks for that, I don’t know what I’d do without your frequently helpful advice.”
“Here to help.”
“And to mock?”
“That’s a bonus.” Jane shrugged lightly. “See you upstairs.”

Breakfast was a quick affair, the rest of the Watch having already eaten their own food. She devoured the cereal in a few minutes, fixed her appearance with practised skill in one of the female assigned bathrooms, and then made her way up to the control room. Over the last dozen days she had come to know the corridors of the ship intimately, the originally intimidating circuits of metal turning out to be considerably smaller and more compact than her fears had made her believe. She had swiftly enough picked up the tags and labels on bulkheads telling her where in the ship she was located and was by now confident enough to proceed back and forth without escort.

Not much had happened in their journey so far, which was probably a good thing, letting Pete and herself become acclimatised to the ship and more importantly the crew. There wasn’t a huge amount of difference between the British crew and the Americans she usually found herself surrounded by, they spoke the same language, laughed at the same jokes and told the same outrageous stories, just with a different accent. The few cultural differences were quick to spot and compensate for, adding several colourful expletives to her vocabulary especially from the engineers who seemed to have no end of creative swear words.

The food was basic but nicely prepared by the galley staff and the crew had been happy to accept them, especially when it became clear they might get their faces on the global net.
Initial apprehensions aside the two Americans had settled in well, more comfortably than if they had found themselves on a French or German ship for instance. They had even been given some basic duties along side the crew, with Pete proving himself quite a handy chef alongside the highly amused enlisted cooks. April’s role was the slightly less glamorous task of assisting the Quartermaster keep track of the Ship’s stores, which generally involved typing and counting. Still, as Jane Rhodes had gleefully informed them, there was no such thing as a free ride and on a ship this small everyone had to pull their weight.

Their jobs had turned out to be a bonus because they were seen to be contributing and the crew accepted them completely, considering them part of the team. In turn this made it a lot easier to get straight answers out of the men and women aboard in interviews, revealing their true opinions and feelings. Most knew about the growing tensions back home and were nervous, expecting to see China and the US going to war before the end of the year. Equally revealing none of them wanted to get involved, declaring it wasn’t any business of Europe. The conflict had been brewing for years, Europe had tried to calm things down in the past, as had Russia, and right now Oceania was holding a conference in Sydney to try and get the two sides to settle things peacefully. Nobody expected it would yield any meaningful results.

There was a lot of trade between Europe and the US, and while the old alliances of the previous century had grown distant and the EU was very critical of President Brook’s grandstanding most Europeans still considered the US a friendly power. Likewise China tended to be regarded well, and again while most people were extremely wary of the new streak of radicalism in the government no one wanted to consider China an enemy. Even on board a military vessel people appreciated peace, and were extremely concerned that it might depart.
Even so each person she had interviewed had the same final response. They had a duty to their home nation and the European Union, and they would assure the safety of their people by whatever means necessary. The Officers expected this would mean enforcing neutrality over Earth and Mars to prevent battles above the major population centres themselves, and if necessary using force to drive off ships fighting one another too close to neutral space. Each of the major powers seemed to have a similar policy, that they would not interfere in US or Chinese affairs, but would force both sides to settle their differences in deep space where they could only hurt each other.

Suitably prepared she made her way up to the Conn, entering through the back door into the busy room. It was slightly dimmer than the rest of the ship, the lower lighting level designed to make the display screens more visible. Pete was already there filming the crew at work unobtrusively, circling the navigational table as Jane and Mallory looked over a map of the local area.
“Is this a good time?” She spoke up by way of announcement.
“Miss Conroy, perfect timing.” Mallory beckoned her over. “We’ve just crossed the official boundary of the Belt.”
She glanced over the hologram, recognising the blue icon of the ship passing a green line which she guessed was the border.

“Mind if I take a look?” She asked.
“Please.” Mallory handed over a headset. “In fact you can keep that, it’s one of our spares.”
“Great.” She fixed the device to her temple, activating the uplink to the visual sensors.
“We’ve locked it out of the more sensitive stuff, but you can use it to look around and check up on any useful unclassified information.” Jane added. “Help you with your little jobs.”
“Wait.” April hesitated, turning her head. “All I see is stars, empty space. Is it working?”
“Entirely.” Mallory replied.
“Where are the asteroids?”
“Oh you won’t see any of those, not here.” He grinned.
“But this is the Asteroid belt, aren’t there meant to be, you know, asteroids?”
“Lots of them, but they’re rather spread out.” The Commander said. “It isn’t like the movies, I’m sure you were expecting to see a wall of rocks right? Enough boulders so you could walk to Jupiter?”
“Well yeah.” April said truthfully. “So TV has lied to me?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but the Asteroid Belt is incredibly sparse. It’s just too huge to have such a density of rock.”
“But I have seen concentrations, I mean the mines seem surrounded by asteroids.” April queried.
“That’s deliberate.” Mallory explained. “A mining station will set up near a big asteroid, then get support ships to go out and grab nearby ones and drag them in. Makes mining them easier.”
April pouted at the news, turning off the headset. “Well frankly that’s really disappointing.”
“Sorry to have to break it to you, but we could fly through the Belt blind in any direction and it would still be more than a billion to one odds that we’d hit something big enough to hurt us.”
April sighed, accepting her new knowledge. “Guess people back home really don’t know what it’s like out here.”
“Well now you can tell them.” Mallory offered. “Worldwide exclusive, no Asteroids in the Belt.”

Pete switched off his camera. “Not much point going up to the observation deck to film then.”
“Not for this one.” Mallory nodded. “But we will be passing a mining station on the way through, we’ll make it a close pass so you can take some footage.”
“Whereabouts are we?” April asked.
“We’re entering Oceanic territory.” The Commander answered. “Though we’re right on the edge, we have Chinese space about ten light seconds to Port. Spitting distance by solar standards.”
“We’ll be able to look over the border then?” Pete asked.
“Quite easily.” Mallory nodded. “Part of our role is to keep an eye open for illegal activity remember, though we don’t have much jurisdiction out here.”
“It isn’t EU space.” Jane added.

“We’re travelling one of the main shipping lanes, the Oceanics like us to keep in one corridor, makes it easier for them to patrol and police.” Mallory pointed out on the map. “Anything outside the corridors gets intercepted and challenged, little harsh but because we have Chinese space just over there they don’t want to take any chances.”
“Commander, signal on the way in.” Lieutenant Thomas spoke from the Comms station. “Local space traffic control.”
“About time.” Mallory adjusted his firmly attached headset, linking it into the main communication array. “Oceanic sector control, this is the EU Naval vessel Amethyst, good morning to you.”
“And Good Evening to you.” A thick Australian accent replied with a hint of a snigger. “Some of us are on Pacific Standard time here.”
“And some of us enjoy the more civilised hours of GMT.” Mallory grinned. “Hope we’re not keeping you awake.”
“Nah, we’ll just check your data and then you can go back to drinking Tea and eating Croissants.”
“Crumpets old boy, that’s crumpets. I hate it when people confuse us with the French.”
“Thought you were all best friends by now?” The Australian controller commented.
“We are, but there are still lines one does not cross. Especially regarding Tea and Crumpets sir.”

“Commander, active scans.” Cheyo mentioned from sensors. “They’re giving us a good look over.”
“Probably not used to seeing a ship like us.” Jane reasoned. “After us the Oceanics are the big players with Stealth ships.”
“The only other power to have Battlecruisers.” Mallory agreed for the benefit of the reporters. “Large scale Stealth ships, very, very expensive.”
“Quite fragile too.” Jane added. “But as a first strike weapon? Very hard to beat.”
“In theory by the time you see them you’re already dead.” The Commander said. “Hopefully anyway, I wouldn’t want to be on one that got into a stand up fight with a Battleship. Those sort of contests never end well.”

“Okay Amethyst, traffic control here.” The voice returned. “Your transponder checks out, not much traffic in this sector, little close to the Chinese border for comfort I think.”
“Can’t say I blame them.” Mallory said in agreement. “Bit of a gathering storm I fear.”
“Yeah, looks like.” The Australian agreed. “Watch your crumpets.”
“And don’t let them spill your beer.” The Commander answered. “Best of luck control.”
“Safe journey Amethyst.”
The signal ended, causing a few glances around the bridge.
“Sounds like people are running for the hills.” Jane voiced all their thoughts. “Probably not a good sign.”
“If Oceanic companies are redirecting traffic away from here it is pretty serious.” Mallory considered. “Different routes tend to cost more money, eat into profits. If the Japanese and Korean businessmen who run most of the Oceanic merchant fleets are willing to take that sort of loss, I’d be worried. Takes a lot to unnerve those guys.”
“It’s like everyone is taking cover and bracing themselves for the worst.” April took stock. “Do they know something we don’t?”
“Everyone knows it.” Mallory shook his head. “War is coming.”


The following day was going quite slowly, April taking her time with the cargo manifest, stretching the job out to consume as much time as possible. Like the crew she was settled into routine, adhering to a schedule designed to try and keep her busy within the tiny ecosystem enclosed in metal far from home. She was holding up well, but they weren’t even a quarter of the way through their journey yet.
She was seriously contemplating taking a little nap at her desk when suddenly the sharp exultation of a horn made her almost spring from her chair and drop to the floor.
“Stand by actions stations! Set Condition One! Action Stations!”

She clearly recognised the First Officer’s voice on the ship wide speakers, and before she even finished there was scuffling in the corridors as off duty personnel dragged on their pressure suits and ran for their assigned stations, either backing up duty personnel or standing by in damage control parties.
April quickly recovered and calmed herself, not doing a very good job as the emergency sirens still bellowed. Her heart was racing and breath evacuating in short shallow gulps. It could have been a drill but she doubted it, everyone was already on edge travelling so close to a potential warzone and something about this situation felt real. She really did not want to end up in a fight, but there was no way out, no escape.

She forced her breathing to steady, taking control of the situation. She had been told what to do in an emergency and all that information flooded back. She opened the wardrobe and took out her pressure suit, slipping on the heavy one piece overall and zipping it up, sealing over the flaps and tightening the straps to create a snug fit. She didn’t bother with the hood yet, the idea being you only pulled it on when something exceptionally bad was about to happen.
“April!” Pete arrived at her door, also in emergency gear. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She said plainly, finishing off her suit.
“We better get to the pods.”
“Pods?” April asked. “Escape pods?”
“Yeah, remember, we were told that in an emergency we should stay in the pods.” He returned. “Safest place.”
“Fine, you go, I’m heading to the Conn.”
“Right…what?”
“I didn’t travel fifty billion miles just to go and hide, we’re here to find out what is happening, so I’m going to take a look.” She said firmly. “Coming?”
“Can I say no?”
“That’s the spirit. Come on.”


They headed for the Conn, using the stairs and passing by a pair of damage control teams waiting for orders. Not only did they have heavier protective gear they were also armed with side arms and rifles just in case anyone tried to board the ship. With no Marines on board the crew would have to fend for themselves in such an emergency, though fortunately they were well trained and prepared.
The Conn was more active then usual, several of the normally dormant holographic displays had blazed to life showing various sensor returns from around the ship. It was hard for an untrained eye to make sense of it but the crew seemed to understand the meaning.

“You two!”
The reporters paused but remained calm, April holding her ground.
“I thought I told you to run and hide in emergencies?” Jane snapped. “What are you doing here?”
“This is why we came!” April returned. “To see everything out here, good and bad!”
“Let them stay.” Mallory interrupted. “Find me that profile.”
“Aye sir.” Jane turned away with a final hard glance, then set to work calling up data in the ship’s library.
“You can stay, but keep out of our way.” The Commander directed at the two reporters. “Sit in those chairs, say nothing and don’t move. Clear?”
“Got it.” April grinned in triumph. “You won’t know we’re even here.”
Mallory was already ignoring them. “Kill those alarms, everyone knows by now.”
The sound ceased, dropping to just a murmur of voices.
“Even Kendle should be awake after that.”
He turned back to the navigation console, now showing two areas highlighted in red.
“Are we sure it was a distress signal?”
“Yes sir.” Lieutenant Thomas confirmed. “We only got a few words, but they translated as ‘under attack’ before we lost the rest.”
“Anything from the location sensors?”
“Heavy ECM sir.” Michelle Cheyo answered. “It’s blocking our sensors.”
“And our new friend?”
“Jamming us, we can’t get a positive ID.” She continued. “But she’s big sir, lot bigger than us.”

April was lost, picking up pieces of information but not the full picture. She noticed an officer walk up beside her, the same man who shared Pete’s quarters and decided to ask.
“Hey, what happened?”
He hesitated a moment, but chose to answer.
“We just picked up two ECM bursts, very unusual out here.”
“ECM?”
“Electronic Counter Measures.” He clarified. “They jam sensors and communications. Most warships use them to mask their exact identity, but these readings were off the scale.”
“What causes them?”
“Normally people trying to hide something, one is in the middle of an asteroid cluster, on top of a Chinese mining station.”
“The one we were going to take a look at for the Net report?”
“Yes, and the other is coming from a ship heading our way.”
She swallowed. “It’s heading for us?”
“Mr Cross!” Mallory cut in. “Weapons status?”
The officer at once turned away. “Rail guns armed and ready sir, point defences active, targeting systems on stand by.”
“Bring our own ECM online, no chances.”
“Yes sir, shall I rig for silent running?”
“No, bit late now.” Mallory shook his head. “That second contact came out of nowhere, must have been running silent for weeks to avoid our sweeps.” He frowned in annoyance. “I hate surprises, have we got an ID yet?”
“Negative sir, sensors are jammed and he’s running with spotlights on full, we can’t get a visual over the glare.”
“Not until we’re right on top of him.” Jane growled.

“Commander, we just crossed into Chinese territory.” Lieutenant Fisher informed from navigation.
“Mr Thomas, all frequency broadcast.” Mallory began. “We are responding to a distress signal, we are not hostile, I repeat, not hostile. Keep repeating that message.”
“Risky sir.” Jane spoke quietly. “They can use our comms to triangulate our position.”
“I know, but it takes away any excuses they might want for accidentally blowing us away.” He turned to sensors. “Range?”
“One light second and closing steady.”
“Well within firing distance.” Jane commented. “No active scans, no targeting.”
Fisher checked her board then looked up. “He’s going to come close sir, if he holds course he’ll pass within five kilometres.”
“Close enough to check our tonsils.” Jane grunted. “Cocky bastard.”
“Still no targeting sir.” Cheyo informed.
“At this range he can aim down the gun sights, he doesn’t need a lock.” Mallory grimaced. “Mr Cross, load the guns.”
“Yes sir.”
“And Mr Cross.” Mallory turned to look at the weapons officer. “Make sure A turret is armed with tac-nukes.”
The Lieutenant set his jaw, a muscle in his cheek twitching at the command. “Understood sir.”
Mallory turned back to the plotting table. “Ship that big could flatten us, but if he’s dumb enough to try anything this close we’ll jam fifty kilotons down his neck and see how he likes it.”
“Half a light second!” Cheyo warned. “We’re starting to get resolution, the glare is fading.”
“Guns ready!” Cross called. “Shall I bring targeting online?”
“Not just yet.” Mallory said. “Standby.”
“No response to signals sir.” Thomas relayed.
“Stand ready people.” Mallory announced calmly, deliberately modulating his voice to enforce control. “Nobody blink.”

 

[Harlock]

Everything went utterly silent, all eyes fixed on the monitors or holographs, all muscles tensed and ready to explode into action, all thoughts held firmly and ready to be acted on. The ship was poised, contracted like a coiled spring straining to be released in a burst of motion and energy. The unknown ship was right on top of them, it’s potent sensors still blinding them right until the last second.
“I’ve got visual!” Cheyo hollered.
“Is he aiming at us?” Mallory barked. “Is he pointing weapons at us?”
“Negative, negative!” She shot back “His weapons are secured, no missile tubes detected.”
The entire room exhaled at once, the tension unwinding slowly in a mix of relief and anger.
“Stupid fucking bastard.” Mallory shook his head. “That dick almost got a nuke sandwich.”
“She’s not a warship.” Jane ran an image through the database. “Checking civilian matches…oh great.”
“Let me guess.” Mallory straightened. “Merc?”
“Hull form is a medium ore hauler.” Jane nodded. “Merc.”
“No Naval Captain would pull something that dumb.”
“Even better, she’s American.” Jane raised, conscious of the reporters. “In Chinese space.”
“Let me see her.”
The plotting table projected an image of the ship, bulky but extremely menacing.
“Fuck me, look at those guns!” Jane exclaimed. “Sorry sir.”
“Right with you.” Mallory spoke grimly. “Those are Eight inch guns, heavy cruiser firepower.”
“Even a glancing hit would snap us in two like a twig.” Jane shook her head. “Where the hell did those come from?”
“Take a wild guess.” The Commander sneered. “Jake, open a channel to that shite.”

The Comms officer nodded.
“Mercenary vessel, this is the EU warship Amethyst, you are carrying illegal weapons and travelling without a valid flight plan. Respond.”
“Nothing sir.” Lieutenant Thomas stated.
“You have also failed to display your registry, broken international conventions on harmful electronic emissions and violated safety regulations regarding minimum safe distance between ships in motion.”
He glanced at Jake Thomas, who just shook his head.
“Your identity is being relayed to the authorities, you will surrender to the first United States government representative you come across. If you enter EU space you will be arrested and your ship confiscated. If you resist you will be destroyed. Amethyst out.”
The signal ended.
“And good bloody riddance.”
April stood up. “Wait, that’s it?”
“That’s it.” Mallory nodded. “We don’t have authority here, its Chinese space. We can’t arrest them until they cross into EU territory, which they won’t.”
“He scared the shit out of me!” April wailed. “And he’s getting away with it?”
“The only people who can do anything are the US or Chinese governments.” Mallory said. “The Chinese would probably shoot him down on the spot, the US government ignores them.”
The reporter sighed. “We heard about that.”
“Now you’ve seen it.” The Commander turned to the plot. “And you filmed it, right?”
“Right.” Pete answered.
“Well then, I suppose now the world will know, wont it?”
She broke into a smile. “Damn straight they will.”
“About time.” Mallory agreed with the sentiment. “What about that second contact? Anything?”
“Still jammed, and the asteroid cluster is blocking our visual.” Cheyo called.
“Time to contact helm?”
“Three hours at this speed sir.”
“Increase to five G’s acceleration.” Mallory ordered.
“Going to push the generators a bit.” Jane warned.
“If the distress signal was from that mining base there could be people trapped or in danger.” The Commander said. “Bugger the generators, increase speed.”
“Yes sir.”
“And Mr Thomas, let Oceanic traffic control know they’ve got an illegally armed Merc on their border. If he crosses over they can throw the book at him.”
Jane smiled coldly. “Preferably attached to a nuclear warhead.”

With the ship accelerating faster they reached the location of the Chinese Mining station in just over an hour, moving too quickly to effectively stop but slow enough to fully survey the area.
“Commander, that jamming isn’t from the mining base.” Cheyo reported. “I’ve been watching the source as we closed in, probably a buoy deployed nearby.”
“Dropped by that Merc?” Jane wondered.
“That’s my guess.” Mallory nodded along. “I don’t think this is going to be a happy ending.”
“We should be passing by the source of the ECM any moment.”
“Guns, can you lock onto the source?” Mallory questioned.
“Yes sir.” Replied Cross.
“Destroy it.”

The officer got to work, directing one of his ratings to bring weapons online. For a simple Buoy there was no need to waste a shot from the main guns, instead he brought the laser defences to ready status.
“Locking onto ECM point of origin.” He announced. “Visual confirmation, using optics to zero in.”
The ECM allowed him to tell roughly where the target was, but disrupted the targeting sensors enough that it was still a mixed chance as to whether they hit or not. The visual scopes made it a certainty.
“Range, two light seconds.” The ensign reporter. “Firing solution locked, predicted location targeted.”
“Engage.”
A pair of laser guns opened fire, though there was little evidence of it. Beside a brief flash at the muzzle as a puff of coolant was released there was no visual indication the guns had fired, not until two seconds later when the side of the Buoy melted away and the device exploded. Two seconds after that the Amethyst saw the flash, and the ECM vanished.
“Kill confirmed.” Cross reported.
“Well done guns, still batting all in.” Mallory congratulated. “Now Miss Cheyo, full sweep of the area, active sensors. We need to know what is out there.”


The main sensor arrays powered up, sending wide and intense beams of energy into space and monitoring the returns. Active scans were like sending up a flare, a giant ‘shoot here’ sign for any opponents which made their use rare on a stealth ship, but they were much more sensitive than the passive arrays and at times like this were vital.
“Large concentration of Asteroids.” She said as the data rolled in. “Definitely artificial, has to be the Mining base.”
“Emissions?”
“Negligible sir.”
Mallory winced a little, a Mining station should have been churning out energy emissions as the workers kept in touch with one another and operated gigantic plasma cutters designed to break up asteroids and expose the vital minerals within.

“Not a good sign.” He intoned. “I’ve never heard of a civilian base going dark on purpose.”
“Especially after that Merc passed by.” Jane agreed quietly. “They should be filling all frequencies yelling for warship support.”
“Commander, I have some metallic returns.” Cheyo informed. “Refined material, a lot of it.”
“The base?”
“Could be, but it’s lacking the density I’d expect for a structure sir. Relatively high mass, but covering a wide area.”
Jane looked across the plotting table with a look which spoke volumes. “Debris field.”
“Probably.” Mallory accepted. “Mr Thomas, any communication?”
“No signals sir.”
“No signals, no emissions, possible debris field.” Jane listed. “They’re dead.”
“And an ECM buoy blocking scans of the area.” Mallory added. “Someone trying to cover their tracks.”
“We should be passing by in a few moments sir.” Lieutenant Fisher reported from the helm. “Shall I begin braking manoeuvres?”
“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” The Commander said. “At this speed it would take most of the day to slow to a stop anyway, I think we’re too late on this one.”

The Amethyst held course, cruising to within a few hundred thousand miles of the Mining base, passing the cluster of rocks and gathering as much data as they could.
“We should be getting a clear view now sir.” Lieutenant Cheyo reported. “Crossing our nearest point to contact.”
The holograph revealed the truth about the base, absorbing the various sensor feeds and combining Radar, thermal and visual data to produce a three dimensional map of the area in high resolution. Most of the scene was indeed dominated by Asteroids, several with deep linear cuts in them revealing where miners had begun extracting ores from them. The base itself, a large station of ad hoc design which would have occupied the centre of the cluster was gone, a faint wisp of frozen air and tangle of expanding debris the only indication of its existence.
“Blown to hell.” Jane bit back on her lower lip, not bothering to hide the bitter anger of her voice. “The station and its tender ships, I’d guess at least two of them looking at the wreckage patterns.”
“No indication of weapons on the station or tenders Commander.” The Sensor officer said emptily. “They would have been unarmed.”

Mallory detached himself, trying to focus on the scene with a professional eye and file away the human tragedy for some other time.
“That was a big station, taking it down would require a lot of firepower.”
“Like a bunch of eight inch guns?” Jane snarled. “That ratfuck Merc. Son of a bitch, we should have nuked the bastard.”
“Take a look at the rad count.” Mallory pointed. “It wasn’t smashed by gunfire, it was nuked.”
“Well that’s just perfect, nuking civilian targets?” Jane shook her head. “This is going to escalate.”
“Miss Cheyo, can you estimate when this happened?”
“Not long ago sir, I’d guess five or six hours ago.”
“About the time the ECM Buoy activate blocking our view.” The Commander found his suspicions confirmed.
“And about the same time that Merc would have been in the area.” Jane added. “Smoking gun.”

Mallory exhaled a deep breath and removed his thin headset, furiously rubbing his eyes with his hands.
“This is getting out of control, it’s spiralling and it’s not going to stop.” He announced. “How many people on a station that big?”
“About six hundred.” Jane answered. “Could be more than a thousand at peak.”
“Any survivors? Any beacons?”
“No sir.” Cheyo answered sombrely. “Nothing.”
He shook his head. “Pure murder, civilian ships firing on civilian stations.” He turned to April “You two getting all this?”
She nodded quietly, shocked and shaken up by events herself. “Every second.”
“This is what happens when someone like Cyrus Errol gets his own private army.” Mallory snapped. “Business by other means, if you can’t buy them out then why not just kill them? That shit thinks he can get away with murder, and until your President grows a pair he’s right!”

He turned away before he completely lost his temper, aware that while his crew agreed he couldn’t vent his anger in front of them. He had to maintain a certain air of dignity and control.
“International law limits civilian ships to light weapons.” He proceeded more calmly. “The guns on that Merc were a hundred times more powerful than legal, and now it seems they are using nukes.”
“It’s frankly terrifying.” April related honestly.
“Worse than that Miss Conroy, it’s a sign of a deeper conspiracy.” Mallory spoke. “Nuclear weapons are quite rare, only a few facilities can make them, all under strict government control. Preventing nukes falling into irresponsible hands has been the bedrock of international regulation for centuries. Yet here we are, a civilian mercenary group armed with nukes. How did they get them? Had to be from military stockpiles, so someone in power is ignoring one of the most serious laws we have.”
“And people are dying in their hundreds because of it.”

“Someone in the military, quite probably the US Military, is stealing weapons of mass destruction and giving them to civilians, groups no better than terrorists.” Mallory accused. “You can bet Errol is at the source of this atrocity, but it goes a lot deeper. He has to have people in the Department of Defence and the Navy so deep in his pocket they do anything he says. Even this.”
“If the Chinese respond in kind we could have a full nuclear war out here.” Pete added. “Might even spread inward, closer to the higher populated areas.”
“And there’s more than nukes.” Jane contributed. “That ship we passed, those guns. With weapons that big you can’t just stick them on a hull and use them immediately. They fire two hundred ton rounds at a hundred thousand metres per second, the recoil on something like that would bend a civilian ship in two. To handle that recoil the guns have extremely powerful electromagnetic buffers, but they take a huge amount of power to operate.”
“Which means military grade fusion reactors.” Mallory stated. “And you recall how that ship was jamming us? Most warships can’t do that to a vessel with the type of advanced sensors we have. It would have needed an immensely powerful sensor and electronic warfare suite, again highly restricted military technology.”

“Sensors, weapons, powerplants and now nuclear weapons.” Jane rattled off. “These aren’t random groups stealing or jury rigging bigger guns on their ships, this is a fully supported intense industrial effort to create heavy warships. There is no way on Earth or anywhere under the sun that anyone could do that without support from their government.”
“It isn’t just a case of turning a blind eye.” Mallory agreed. “It requires active help from the powers that be and the military, a lot of help.”
He turned back to the plotting table, the smashed base fading in the distance.
“Better make a report back to command, attach our sensor logs, it’ll make grim reading for the Admiral.”
“Yes sir.” Lieutenant Thomas confirmed. “I’ll try, but there’s still a lot of interference from that Merc, we might not get through.”
“Do your best. The Admiral will inform the Chinese embassy, I’m sure they’ll contact any relatives.” Mallory reasoned. “Damn bloody mess.”
“Very sir.” Jane agreed. “The Chinese are bound to react, Heng is supposed to have a hell of a temper.”
“And just as much influence and funding as Errol.” Mallory nodded. “I’m glad we’re heading for Neptune, get us out of this nightmare.”
“Let’s hope it’s not waiting for us on our return journey.” Jane cautioned. “If we’re lucky these Mercs will have killed each other by then.”
“Hmm.” The Commander grunted. “We will have to wait and see.”

He turned to the reporters.
“You wanted an Earth shaking story Miss Conroy. Congratulations, you may just have witnessed the biggest scandal in history. It will be hard to cover this up as an accident, you might actually bring down your own Government.”
“Anyone who allows this isn’t fit to govern.” April replied simply. “We deserve better, better than Brook, better than Errol. I’m going to make sure my country has the government it deserves.”
“And in the process you might just prevent a full scale war.” Mallory added. “About time we had some good fortune out here, this whole place is going to hell and you Miss Conroy might just be the only person who could stop it.”
Her mouth was suddenly very dry.
“Right.” She squeaked weakly. “No pressure then.”

 

[Harlock]

5

Beyond the Asteroid Belt, Jupiter Orbital Plane.


“Shame you didn’t come along on our first deployment.” Able Spaceman William Carver related with a moment of relish. “Jupiter is an amazing planet, I could look at it for hours.”
“You did.” His neighbour, Mick Purvis dropped in. “You almost shift change.”
Pete grinned, squeezing past the two cooks with a tray of potatoes in his hands, taking them to a large pot of boiling water in the stainless steel galley.
“The Broom had to go fetch him.” Able Spaceman Simon Price chuckled, his arm whisking a large tub of dough mixture. “Chief Petty Officer Clive Broome, but everyone just calls him the Broom.”
“Because of the name?” Pete asked, dropping the peeled potatoes into the pot.
“Yeah, and because he’s always sweeping up behind us!” Purvis laughed. “Especially Bill.”
“Hey, don’t record this, off the record right.” Carver dropped his voice. “But he also walks around like he has a broom handle up his arse!”
The comment drew a few laughs from the cooks.
“So kind of a multipurpose name then huh?” Pete chuckled. “I’m off duty, your secret is safe guys.”
“He’s alright though.” Price poured the mix into baking tins. “Bit stuck up but not a bad guy. There’s no one on this ship who really shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, we all do our bit. No wasters.” Purvis agreed. “Good ship to serve on, good atmosphere you know?”
“I’m getting that.” Pete agreed. “I mean I like it here.”
“You do your bit.” Carver approved. “You peel those spuds like a professional!”
The rest of the kitchen staff laughed good naturedly.

“I cook back home.” Pete replied. “Originally that was Boston before I moved to New York.”
“Boston eh?” Price repeated. “That’s the Tea Party place right?”
“Home of the revolution.” Pete said proudly. “I probably should have said that quieter on a Brit ship.”
“Don’t worry about it mate.” Carver gave him a slap on the back. “That whole thing was the best thing to happen to us.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, we’ve never stopped being grateful for getting rid of you stupid buggers!”
The two other cooks jeered and pointed at Pete who smiled and shrugged.
“Yet somehow we found the courage to carry on alone.” He grinned back.
“Yeah, you guys did pretty good for yourselves.” Price admitted. “Went to Disneyland as a kid, nice place. I could live in America I think.”
“I wouldn’t.” Carver winced. “No offence Pete, but your beer tastes like water.”

The reporter broke into a genuine laugh. “At least its cool! How you drink beer at room temperature just isn’t registering in my brain.”
“Not to everyone’s taste.” Purvis joined in. “And while we can look down on American Beer, we understand how you feel.”
“What do you mean?”
“Two words mate.” Carver counted off on his fingers. “Ger-man.”
“Probably the only reason we bothered joining a united Europe.” Price agreed. “Free imports.”
“We’ve got some crates stashed away in the back of the cold room.” Carver thumbed towards the big walk in refrigerator behind him. “For special occasions. Fierce stuff, I’ve never seen anyone manage more than five pints and be able to walk to his bunk.”
“We’ll probably break one open when we hit Neptune and get a bit of shore leave.” Purvis guessed. “Whatever shore they have out there, some basic science base I heard.”

“Some of those scientists know how to party, remember the Jupiter crowd?” Carver smiled widely.
“I remember poor Mick here spent an hour kissing an Italian guy!” Price laughed in glee. “I have pictures of that, you gotta put that in your news show!”
“He was in a dress! I swear I thought he was a girl!” Purvis shot back. “Forget de-tox pills, I’ve never sobered up so fast in my life.”
“He had stubble!” Carver laughed back.
“Still could have been a girl!” Purvis countered. “Three months of deployment makes you less picky when you hit shore!”
“I’m hoping for Swedes on this base.” Price grew misty eyed. “Six foot blonde Valkyrie.”
“Good luck with that.” Carver opened up the vast oven set into the wall to check the status of the next batch of food. “I’m looking for a Leprechaun and a pot of gold. About the same odds.”
As the door shut there was a chime over the intercom system.
“Would Miss Conroy and Mr Muller report to the Conn.” The speakers delivered their message. “Miss Conroy and Mr Muller to the Conn.”
“That’s you mate.” Carver stated the obvious. “She who must be obeyed wants you.”
“Wouldn’t mind a private invite from the XO myself.” Purvis grinned.
“She’s a woman, you wouldn’t like her.” Price smiled.
“I told you, I thought he was a she! It was four years ago!”
“It never gets old.” Price chuckled. “Better get gone Pete, I’ll finish your bit.”
“Thanks guys.” Muller took off his apron and hung it by the Refrigerator “See you for washing up huh?”
“We’ll save you the best bits!” Carver laughed. “Have fun with the upper classes!”


By the time he made his way up to the Control Room April was already there gazing over the navigational plotting table, the embedded projectors displaying a series of moving holographic icons. He quickly trotted over joining his friend and the two most senior officers.
“Something happen?” He checked.
“In the process of happening, yes.” Commander Mallory confirmed. “Fortunately though it’s nowhere near us.”
“Over two AUs away.” Jane Rhodes clarified. “Deep in the American sector of the Asteroid Belt.”
He looked at the table, seeing two sets of coloured spheres hovering in thin air.
“What are we looking at?” April asked for the both of them.
“This here is a major transport hub.” Mallory pointed out, gesturing at a large yellow icon hovering in the middle of the board. “A very sizeable space station, part refinery, part repair dock, part storage facility. It usually accepts deliveries of ore from smaller mines before shipping them coreward on superfreighters.”
“So these dots around it are ships?” She asked, sweeping her hand through a cloud of a dozen smaller spheres.
“Yes, though at this range we can’t accurately tell what type.” The Commander confirmed. “Some seem to be rather large, probably bulk freighters, but it could be there are more of those heavily armed mercenaries.”
“Is there anyway to tell?” She asked.
“There will be in a minute.” He shifted the view to a wider angle. “Look at these.”

A large mass of other icons appeared on the view, moving gradually towards the base and its surrounding vessels. These icons were red instead of yellow.
“An attack?” Pete guessed.
“Certainly looks like it.” Jane answered for him. “Hard to be certain but the electronic signature of this force here indicates they are of Chinese origin.”
“Oh shit.” April groaned.
“Warships?” Pete asked.
“They’re power output is high enough, but they are decelerating too slowly.” Mallory said. “Well armed Mercs, the Heng equivalent to the Errol ship we passed a couple of weeks ago.”
“The one we think destroyed that Chinese base?” April recalled.
“Yes.” Mallory confirmed. “I’d say Heng was about to take her revenge.”

April swore under her breath, watching as the yellow blips formed a wall between the station and the incoming red vessels. They looked very outnumbered.
“How many ships are there?”
“Fourteen American, sixty two Chinese.” Jane informed. “Heng isn’t messing about, she wants a massacre.”
“Probably thinks this will be a warning to Errol, show him she’s serious about her business stakes out here.” Mallory sighed. “Stupid fucking woman, all it’ll do is make Errol even more mad.”
“Escalating the whole crisis.” Pete reasoned.
“There’s been an arms race out here for at least the last two or three years, probably more like a decade.” Jane stated. “But it’s going too far now. If Errol had big gun mercs it’s no surprise Heng as them too.”
“Looking at this she has a lot more of them too.” Mallory frowned. “Poor buggers haven’t got a chance.”
“Can they run?” April asked.

“Chinese are coming in too fast, even at full burn the Chinese ships will just overrun them.” Jane shook her head. “Big stations like that tend to be armed though, it might be able to fight back, maybe drive them off.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“A Station of that size probably has about ten thousand people on it.” Mallory said grimly. “If the Chinese blow it up, if Heng goes through with it…”
“The American public wouldn’t stand for it.” April answered solemnly. “They’d demand instant action. Decisive action.”
“If Heng’s ships limit their targets to armed vessels it might not be so bad.” Jane considered. “They can claim retaliation for the loss of their base, dealing with pirates and murderers.”
“But if they go and hit the station, with all those civilians on it.” Mallory tensed his neck. “It’s going to be war.”

“Would Heng really do it?” Pete asked. “I mean she’s ruthless, but ten thousand people?”
“She’s not like Errol.” April answered. “Errol is spiteful, vindictive, he holds grudges for years before acting on them. Not Heng, she’s passionate, a force of fury. She’s supposed to have the most vicious temper on the planet.”
“I heard from a Chinese officer last year that one of her Executives told her he could see a better future for the business than she could.” Jane retold. “So she stabbed his eyes out with a pen, then asked if he could see better than her now.”
“She wouldn’t care about the lives lost on the mine.” April agreed. “But she’d take it as a personal insult by Errol, an attack on her as a person. She wouldn’t even stop to think, she’d order a full scale counter move right away.”

A few of the yellow icons began to blink, several numbers flashing up beside them.
“The Americans have opened fire, still quite long range.” Jane noted. “That’s kicked it off.”
“Is there anything we can do?” April asked. “Demand they stand down or something?”
“They wouldn’t listen.” Mallory shook his head. “Besides, it’s eighteen lightminutes away, what we are seeing already happened eighteen minutes ago.”
“Probably already over.” Jane said gloomily.
“But did they destroy just the ships, or the base too?” Mallory questioned. “They’re holding their fire.”

All four of them remained fixed to the view, the distance between the two coloured icons shrinking with each moment. April was fixated on the little balls of light, trying to visualise them as million ton spaceships bristling with guns and packed with living people. She had experienced herself the uncertainty and anxiety present before a battle, and while their own scrape with danger had been diffused it had still utterly terrified her. The idea of not being able to control one’s own fate was extremely worrying to her. The idea that all you have and all you could ever be can be snatched away by someone a million miles away pushing a button.
“Still closing.” Jane noted. “Must be waiting for gun range.”
“At that initial speed, and with military grade cannons against civilian armour it will be one shot kills.” Mallory guessed. “None of those ships have the mass or engine thrust to account for military grade armour.”
“Armour is expensive.” April mentioned harshly. “Errol Corp cutting its costs.”
She could almost see the crews loading their cannons, tracking the enemy and predicting their locations from hundreds of thousands of miles away, timing where their shots would intersect with the enemy ships. Most would never even see the enemy, have no idea if they would still be alive in the next heartbeat or whether a rail gun round would spear through their ship liquefying any living thing in it’s path.

“Gunfire.” Jane spotted. “Heng’s forces are firing back.”
Several thin lines left the red forces, thin traces showing the path of various rail gun shots. There were only a few at first, less than the number of yellow traces heading outwards.
“Don’t the Chinese ships have a lot of guns?” April asked. “Maybe they’re smaller than that American ship?”
“I don’t think so.” Mallory answered with regret. “I think they’re just ranging shots.”
It took over a minute for the Chinese rounds to reach the American lines, at which point they vanished in bursts of radiation, small clouds of energy showing up brightly on the display.
“Spotting rounds, the radiation would cling to any stealth ships or mines in the area.” Jane told the reporters. “They want to make sure there are no surprises.”

The red block then erupted in lines, hundreds of thin traces lancing forward from the clump and extending towards the yellow illuminated line. Each few seconds brought more traces as the guns reloaded and fired again, pumping as much tonnage of firepower out as they could.
“That’s a lot of guns.” Pete exclaimed quietly.
“They need them, the Errol ships have a strong ECM suite, makes achieving a steady lock hard.” Mallory said. “Most of those rounds will miss., if they want to start hitting consistently they’ll have to get much closer, ten or twenty thousand kilometres at most.”

The American ships altered position slightly, taking random evasive action to throw off the firing solutions of the Chinese gunners. At long ranges both sides were firing where they guessed the enemy would be in the minute or two it took for their rounds to cross the vast gulf between attacker and victim. One or two random course changes could easily allow even a large sluggish ship to avoid incoming fire, forcing enemy gunners to fire a pattern of rounds covering any possible direction the ship could take. Neither side had scored hits yet, but as the range closed and it became harder to dodge the two and three hundred ton rounds casualties would become inevitable.

“There’s a kill.” Mallory pointed. “Chinese ship, on the flank.”
One of the red spheres morphed into hundreds of tiny dots, radiating outwards from a central point like a slow motion firework. The range was too great to provide an accurate model of the ship and its demise, but strangely the break up of the glowing sphere seemed even more disturbing, it’s surreal nature at odds with the immense violence of the act in the real world.
“She must have taken a direct hit, didn’t stand a chance.” Jane grimaced. “That’s what happens when you hit an unarmoured ship with a heavy rail shot.”
Two American ships also changed, one breaking into a similar expansion of tiny parts while the second broke up into four or five still quite large chunks. The space between them was filled with active weapons tracks, most of them still passing through the formations harmlessly but as the battle went on and minutes passed more and more found targets.

“That’s going to be a nightmare.” Mallory pointed out with detachment, following a trace into a large American sphere with two small ones nearby. “He’s got his escorts too close.”
The ship exploded, transforming into hundreds of radiating spheres like the others. This time though many of the ejected lights collided with the escorts, causing one to explode in its own right. April tried to imagine the two small mercenary ships showered with debris from their colleague, high speed pieces of shrapnel penetrating the hull like wet paper and utterly shredding the interior of their vessel. The chaos and confusion, the cries of the wounded and dying, the endless distress calls. She had to stop and turn away, even the silent exploding spheres of light now too much for her.

“They aren’t professionals, no real training.” Mallory shook his head. “Like they’ve read a book on tactics and jumped straight in.”
“Both sides are too bunched up.” Jane agreed. “A real military force a quarter of their size would have had them for breakfast.”
“Shame there aren’t any around.” Mallory grunted. “Where is the US Fleet? You would have thought they’d guard such an important base?”
“It was an obvious target.” Jane watched the final few yellow spheres break up. “Even just a single warship could have made a difference, fighting mercs is one thing but messing with the Navy is another. It could have saved lives.”
“Unless they don’t want to.” April turned back to the group. “Unless they don’t want to save those people.”
“What do you mean?” Pete demanded. “They can’t be that desperate, not even Errol!”
“You sure about that?” She returned. “it was the obvious target, he must have guessed Heng would hit it. But he lets it go, he wants the base to be destroyed.”
“Imagine the headlines tomorrow, Chinese ships kill ten thousand American civilians.” Mallory spoke coldly.
“Errol lost the arms race, Heng got ahead of him, those Chinese ships smashed his mercs without stopping.” April sounded bitterly. “So he’s upped the game, he’s going to make even better ships join the battle on his side.”
“Not mercenaries anymore.” Jane realised. “The United States Navy.”

“It’s all falling into place.” April spat in disgust. “He begins arming Mercenaries to drive Heng out of business, but Heng hits back, hiring mercs of her own.”
“So Errol hires better mercs, uses his money and influence to take weapons from US arms manufacturers.” Pete carried on. “Hell he probably owns most of the weapons companies anyway, few bribes to senior military officers and senators…”
“He gets himself a well armed navy.” April nodded. “Then uses it to start blowing up Heng resources.”
“Except Madam Heng has just as much influence with the Chinese government.” Jane sighed. “So she turns out her own heavily armed mercs and does the same thing. He must have known it was coming.”
“Why waste money fighting a war with mercenaries that may take years when you can arrange to have the real Navy do it for you?” April scoffed. “Sneaky bastard, that’s why he let Heng get ahead in the arms race, he never intended to fight her as equals, he’s going to bring in the Navy to wipe out her little fleet.”
“Using a sledgehammer to crack a walnut.” Pete grimaced.

“He’s gambling.” Mallory figured out. “If Heng finishes this station it isn’t about Errol Corp anymore, it’s about all of America and all Americans. He needs to raise it to those stakes to get the Navy in. But what if Heng does the same?”
“If she doesn’t, if she backs down he wins the gamble.” Jane confirmed. “But if she does, if she uses the sight of American warships blowing up Chinese vessels, even though they are mercenaries, it would inflame public opinion just as much in her country.”
“Errol versus Heng becomes The United States versus China.” April exhaled. “With President Brook elected on a promise never to back down and the Chinese Government taking their orders straight from Heng.”
“Both sides have a lot of ships between the Belt and Mars.” Mallory said. “They’ve been squaring up to this for over a year at least. I think they want a war.”
“It’s insane, madness that anyone would want this.” Pete said disheartened. “But I think you’re right. I think the President wants to prove once and for all that nobody messes with him or his country. He’s going to try and make an example of China.”
“If he does, he’s going to get a billion people killed.” Mallory said flatly. “And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yes we can.” April said firmly. “We know the truth.”
“We do, but what will it do?” Mallory asked. “We’re seeing this twenty minutes late, if Heng wanted that station gone it’s already dead. We can tell the world why and how it happened, but it still leaves thousands of innocent people dead. Ask yourself honestly, forget Errol and Brook, would the average American citizen just walk away from this?”
April looked at the images, at the red spheres closing on the station. “Even if they knew it was a game of brinkmanship? All caused by the greed of the two richest people on Earth? Even if they knew the provocation Errol had given Heng? No, they’d still demand direct action. Heng crossed a line, if she just leaves it at those ships the American public will accept it. If she shoots the station the Navy will go in a day later.”
Even as she finished speaking the large sphere representing the station vanished in a haze, replaced by large concentrations of jamming that disrupted the sensors. Most of the plot became unreadable, a few notes of test listing the exact frequencies and composition of the interference.

“More ECM?” April asked. “Are they trying to hide their actions?”
“Not ECM, not this time.” Mallory replied quietly. “Seven or eight nuclear explosions, saturation strike.”
“Holy…” Pete began, his words just failing.
“That’s overkill.” Jane grimaced in revulsion.
“It’s a message.” April corrected. “Heng’s calling him out. She’s daring Errol to do his worst, to come and get her.”
“Think she knows his plan?” Pete asked. “Think she expects him to back down even with the Navy backing him up?”
“Maybe, or maybe she wants a show down as much as everyone else seems to.” April sighed in dejection, the immensity of the machine around her too vast to comprehend, the cogs of intrigue grinding on without pause.
“Either way, those Chinese mercs are dead.” Jane spoke with certainty. “The US Navy is going to skin them alive.”
“Looks like they’re changing course, heading back for the Chinese border.” Mallory noticed. “If they get across, and if the American President orders his ships to go in after them…”
“It’d be the spark that could ignite the powder keg.” April closed her eyes, feeling suddenly on the brink of tears. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to try and raise Fleet Command.” Mallory said. “Given how bad things are we might be recalled or reassigned. Neptune station can do without us for a while.”
“Communications are patchy, lot of jamming behind us.” Jane said. “We don’t even know if our previous signals have made it through.”
“Better keep trying.” He ordered. “And keep a watch on the area around us, we have Chinese and American warships on our path ahead. Let’s not give them a reason to be jumpy.”


For the next five days there was little contact with the outside world. Behind them the Asteroid Belt was heavy with electronic emissions, a cloud of interference which made the long range passive scans of the Amethyst useless. There was no way to know what was going on in the scattered Miasma of white noise, though the locations of the disturbances were revealing enough. They were all concentrated on the US and Chinese borders. Unfortunately their location also interfered with the Amethyst’s direct communication with friendly bases, and with no other EU ships in the area they had no way to alert home to their information. For what little good it would do at this point.
Beyond Jupiter’s orbit things started to get very quiet. Jupiter itself had a healthy orbital community in a series of ever expanding space stations, most of them belonging to Europe or Russia. They tended to be researchers or miners exploiting the local Moons or extracting gas from the planet’s own atmosphere. To support its colonists Europe and Russia had decent sized naval bases in the area along with a few much smaller stations built by the other space faring powers.

Unfortunately Jupiter’s orbital cycle had put it on the other side of the sun as the Amethyst headed out on its long curving path through the cosmos, taking with it the safety of the station and its attendant warships. Their closest friendly base was still Aries station over Mars, by now over five AU’s behind them. If they ran into trouble now there was no friendly traffic to provide help, the radar showed only three contacts between the Frigate and Saturn.
“This contact is Chinese.” Lieutenant Cheyo pointed out on her screen, Mallory and Jane leaning over her shoulders. “It’s running with a lot of ECM, blanketing a lot of local space. I’d guess there was more than one ship there.”
“How many do you think?”
“Based on ion trails, probably three. A cruiser and two escorts.”
“And this one?” He indicated a blip closer to Saturn.
“American civilian.” She said. “Though I’m leaning towards a merc.”
“All the way out here?” Mallory frowned.
“Power curves match.” Cheyo confirmed. “Based on his speed we’ll probably pass him in about three weeks.”
“About the same time we reach Saturn.” Jane said. “Unclaimed space, we could arrest him.”
“Better wait and see what he’s packing.” Mallory cautioned. “And this one?”
Cheyo brought up the nearest target. “American, and this one’s definitely a warship.”
“Interesting.” Jane said. “Looks like he’s burning for Saturn too.”
“There is a US research station out there.” Mallory recalled. “Only one manned full time.”
“We should pass him in about eight hours, looks like he’s still in his early boost phase.”
“Very well.” The Commander nodded. “We’ll make ourselves known, perhaps he has some news from home about what’s happening out here.”

 

[Harlock]

The Amethyst signalled her identity, declaring herself an EU vessel and therefore neutral in regards to the United States. In all likelihood the American cruiser had spotted her some days earlier and had been keeping a watch on the smaller vessel, waiting until she came closer to make sure of her identity. Mallory toyed with the idea of closing up for silent running and sneaking past, normally he would have rigged the ship soon after they left Mars space and used the entire trip as an exercise, but with both the two reporters on board and the whole solar system on the brink of war now was not the time for playing hide and seek.
After a couple of minutes the American ship responded, acknowledging the signal and identifying herself. There was always the chance that the information was false, that the EW signature or the transponder was a fake, but both ships had little choice but to take each other at their word. At least until they moved closer.

For the next few hours the crew went about their duties, taking a meal, a sonic shower, a few hours sleep, whatever their watch required. After passing the Asteroid belt it had become virtually impossible to receive broadcasts from home severing ties between the Frigate and Earth. Usually signals would have reached out beyond Jupiter but the heavy EW measures thrown up by American and Chinese groups were having an adverse affect on signals.
With live Net access gone the crew was forced to fall back on other forms of entertainment, from games and recorded video discs to card games and exercise, even reading books. For those who claimed not to have anything to keep them occupied the Petty Officers took immense pleasure in searching out some menial task and assigning it to the unfortunates. Most people quickly learned to pretend to be catching up on the latest manuals and regulations when the white shirted NCO’s made their rounds.
Spartan as conditions were on board the Amethyst they were much more comfortable than earlier deep range ships. For one thing the crew had the benefit of artificial gravity, a discovery which made life infinitely more simple. It meant the crew could endure long deployments with no degenerative effects to their bodies, no muscle wastage or loss of bone mass. It allowed them to do everything they could do at home, at least within the confines of the steel tube surrounding them, and to live lives as normal as any other human being.

She did not have the swimming pools, football fields or squash courts of a capital ship, but the crew of the Amethyst had long since become used to looking down their noses at such opulence. They didn’t need the luxuries of the battle fleet, they embraced the tight confines of their vessel, the blank walls and cluttered spaces. They had a small cinema projector in the mess hall, access to personal computers and a decent gym. That was enough.
These men and women relished the simple life provided by their ship, took pride in the hardships and the long periods of silent running. They were professionals, dedicated to their jobs and utterly committed to the role they had selected. Silent hunters of the spaceways, the best of the best.

“We’re coming up to two lightseconds range.” Cheyo finally announced.
Jane checked her watch, almost exactly on time. She picked up one of the telephone handsets and dialled Mallory’s quarters. “Mallory here.”
“Sir, we’re coming up on communication range with the American.”
“Right, better get in touch with our guests. They’ll probably be interested in this.”
A few minutes later the Commander arrived in his regular duty uniform, dark trousers and white shirt, and strode over to the navigational plotting table.
“Anything else?”
“No sir.” Jane answered. “I’d guess he’s waiting for us to make contact.”
Mallory nodded. “Any scans?”
“Not since the first one.” She said. “We’ve been running loud with all our lights on, not exactly giving him a reason to jump.”
“Good thing too, last thing we want is an American rail shot down our throat.”

He glanced up as April and Pete arrived, both of them joining Jane and himself around the table.
“I heard there was an American ship out there?” The female reporter began. “Is it true?”
“Word gets round quick on a ship this small.” Mallory smiled. “Yes, we’re coming up on an American warship, just entering effective real time communication range now.”
“Is it another mercenary?” Pete asked.
“Not this time.” Jane shook her head. “Too big and heavy, and she’s pumping out a lot of power.”
“Miss Cheyo, patch me through a visual please.” Mallory asked. “Let’s have a look.”
An image emerged on the board, a small shape in the far distance little more than a glowing orb.
“One second, I’ll zoom in.” Jane set to work on the table controls. “Try and clean up the resolution.”
“Looks like she’s at full burn.” Mallory noted from the glow of the image. “Must be in quite a rush to get somewhere.”
“We picked up an unknown Chinese force ahead, we can’t get a clear signal on them.” Jane said for the benefit of the journalists. “Probably checking them out.”

The image on the board finally cleared, showing a pale grey vessel seen from astern. The back quarter of the ship was dominated by a trio of massive engines spewing luminous vapour into space, three great coloured spikes clearly highlighting the ship to any sensor net in the system with an interest.
“She’s American alright, triple engines.” Jane confirmed. “Nobody else builds ships like that.”
“Is there a reason?” April asked.
“Not really.” Mallory answered. “Most European ships use clusters of smaller engines or a single large one. American ships prefer three large engines, both have their own pros and cons.”
“American ships are easier to build and maintain.” Jane stated. “European ones tend to be more survivable.”
“They have to be, we don’t have half as many.” The Commander grunted. “Well, she may be in a hurry but let’s see if she has time to talk.”

Pete looked closely at the ship, the image turning into a three dimensional model. Beside the three engines American ships also tended to be distinctively boxy, built around solid slabs of metal arranged in sharp angles and easy shapes. They were designed from the keel up for ease of production and maintenance, a cost effective but numerous fleet that could be churned out in vast numbers if necessary.
It hadn’t always been the case, the first generation of American ships built with artificial gravity had been extremely complicated achievements of engineering artistry, statements of American ingenuity and power. These older cruisers and battleships had boasted the best of everything, from weapons and defences to crew quarters and amenities. They were built up from smooth curves and graceful lines, like living things, creatures of air or water trimmed in the rich red white and blue of the national colours over their grey hulls.
But their dominance was brief, no sooner had they been launched then a new philosophy took hold, one that sacrificed pride for power. The great ladies of the sky were formidable warships but too difficult to mass produce and hard to maintain, their reign was cut short by a new generation of practical warships, angular weapons welded together in the vast automated shipyards of Earth and Mars. The new designs were much cheaper but just as effective in battle. They did not impress the public with their grandeur, but did intimidate their enemies with their sheer size and numbers.
The current US Navy still had its elegant ships, but most of the fleet was now built around ships of reduced quality but increased quantity. The ship ahead of them was characteristic of the new style, a pure weapon of war with no concessions to any other view or philosophy. She was built to fight and win, that was all.

“United States vessel, this is the European Union Frigate Amethyst off your Port Quarter.” Commander Mallory began. “We are on a standard supply run and have no hostile intentions. This is just a… courtesy call.”
They waited briefly, the signal still taking a four second round trip before they heard a response, drawing a few sighs of relief from the bridge staff.
“Amethyst, we see you, and we acknowledge your call.”
The voice on the other end could not be more fitting to the European imagination of an American voice. It had the long rounded vowels of a Southerner, the sort of voice heard on countless Net shows and movies. It was a deliberate voice, taking pains to wrap around every single syllable with a characteristic drawl betraying no hostility or harshness, just a welcoming invitation to chat.
“My name is Captain Steve Lantree, commanding officer of the USS Nashville.” The voice continued. “Obliged to make your acquaintance Amethyst.”

Mallory smiled, clearly glad the American officer wasn’t telling them to mind their own business.
“Hope you are well Captain, my name is Commander Edward Mallory, Royal Navy.”
“You’re a long way out for such a small ship.” Lantree spoke. “Heading for Saturn?”
“Yes, and then to Neptune.”
“Long haul for you then, hope it all goes smoothly.”
“Appreciated Captain.” Mallory replied politely. “Heading for Saturn yourself?”
“That’s right Commander, got ourselves a station full of scientists out there that needs attending to.” The American answered in his gentle drawl. “We’re bringing them home, things are getting a little hairy out here.”
“We noticed.” Mallory allowed with a sigh. “We detected a transfer station under attack several days ago.”
“Yeah, we picked it up too.” Lantree related sombrely. “We weren’t close enough to help, if we had have been… well Commander I don’t need to tell you things would have been different.”

Mallory looked over the image of the American cruiser, ten heavy calibre turrets lining its upper and lower hull, each one crammed with a trio of six inch cannons. Beside that she also mounted scores of four inch dual purpose guns and a large number of laser point defences. She was designed as a self escorting vessel for exactly these kind of missions, to head off at short notice into deep space by herself and be ready to deal with any likely threat, from heavy warships to attack drones. While not so obvious as her guns she also mounted fore and aft torpedo tubes and an arsenal of nuclear missiles sealed beneath.
“So I can imagine.” Mallory agreed. “A ship like yours would have made a hell of an impression.”
“Not much can look a Miami class cruiser in the eye and not start shaking at the knees.” Lantree chuckled over the radio. “We may not be the biggest ship on the block, or the meanest, but we’re just about the best balanced. Speed, firepower, protection, all rolled up in one bad tempered little lady.”

He wasn’t far wrong, the Amethyst’s sensors showed the American ship massed just under five million tons, lighter than most heavy cruisers but beefier than an average light cruiser. Coupled with her large engines it would give the warship a decent turn of acceleration, letting her outrun bigger ships and position herself where her main battery could do its work. Ships of her class had a reputation for attracting adventurers, officers and crew with a certain flair, an old fashioned attitude to war. They fought their ships like Frigates from the age of sail, a delicate dance of position, firing arcs and instinct. Ships like the Nashville were the most flexible of modern vessels and so it was only natural they were given to people who could get the best from them.
The Royal Navy at least tended to find the same, deploying its cruisers as scouting elements for the main fleet, sending them on high profile patrols to ‘show the flag,’ or grouping them into wolfpacks to hunt high value enemy targets. Mallory dearly wanted to command one of those ships one day, to experience the same freedoms he had now but with a larger and more prestigious ship. A cruiser Captain was the ideal job for most of those who sought command and competition was fierce, creating a rather elite cadre that was common to most navies. Cruisers led the way, the first into battle and the last out and Mallory could tell already that Captain Lantree was exactly the sort of person who deserved to command such a vessel.

“Commander, can I ask a few questions?” April drew his attention away from his cherished thoughts, bringing him back to the deck.
“By all means.” He nodded.
“April cleared her throat. “Captain Lantree, can you hear me?”
“Well now, did I just hear that right?” The American officer laughed. “Was that Georgia accent over on that Euro ship?”
“You heard right Captain, April Conroy, New York Times.”
“I know your work Miss Conroy, wondered why I hadn’t seen you lately.”
“I’m on assignment, learning the truth about what happens out here.” She said. “Frankly I’m shocked, it’s an all out war.”
“Welcome to the edge Miss Conroy.” Lantree huffed. “Not much rule of law out here, at least not where it counts.”
“But why is that Captain?” April asked. “The Oceanic and European sectors seem quiet.”

“They are, and that’s because our associates in those nations mount regular patrols, intercept any armed ships or smugglers or whatever. It’s very easy to do, not a lot of places to hide out here.”
“So why is the American sector overrun with mercenaries? I thought we had more ships than Europe and Oceania combined?”
“Oh we do Miss Conroy, ships aint the problem.” Lantree stated. “My boys and girls are eager to get in there and crack some skulls, knock a bit of common sense into these cowboys. But we can’t, we got our orders.”
“What orders?”
“We’re not allowed to enter private space.” Lantree said. “The Asteroid belt is private property, it isn’t owned by the US Government.”
“That’s ridiculous!” April snapped, stunned. “We claimed that territory decades ago! It belongs to the American people!”
“Not anymore, the Government sold it a few years ago.” Lantree stated. “Oh they kept it quiet, didn’t publicise it, but they raked in a lot of cash from it.”
“How can they just get rid of all that space and not say anything?”
“All legal.” Lantree said. “And I’ll give you one guess to who they sold it all to.”
She rolled her eyes. “Cyrus Errol.”

“Guess funding all those election campaigns paid off huh?” The American Captain said. “He pays his taxes and his duties, he keeps the gifts rolling into Capitol Hill, and no one lifts a finger. It’s like he’s got his own country out here, his own navy, his own form of local government, even his own Net channel. But one thing he ain’t got is people, he still needs US Citizens to come out here and work for him, and they’re the ones getting killed out here.”
“The base.” She said quietly. “Did anyone survive?”
“A few people on some out laying ships.” Lantree answered. “Most didn’t. Few years ago we’d have had a patrol near there, we’d have caught those mercs before they got close. Hell, they’d never even have happened. But we don’t have the right to enter privately owned space anymore, not since President Brook came into power and started doing anything Errol said.”
“But why would he do this?” April asked. “Why keep the Navy out? The one thing that could protect him.”

“Because we’re meant to be impartial.” Lantree answered. “We’d protect his stuff, but we’d also check them out. Lot of us think he’s got a lot of illegal stuff going on in there, if he had allowed the fleet in back then we’d investigate and bust him. Mr Errol likes to think he’s above the law.”
“Most of the time he is.” April growled. “But after this massacre the Navy has to go in!”
“We already are.” Lantree confirmed. “In fact Mr Errol invited us in, specifically requested Naval help.”
“Great.” April snapped. “If he wants you there it means he’s got nothing to hide.”
“My guess is he’s already gotten rid of anything incriminating.” The American Captain agreed. “If he thought there was anything that we could use to nail him he wouldn’t let us through, he’d rather lose more lives.”
Jane stepped in. “Does Errol really have that much influence?”
“He really does.” April nodded. “Even in the military.”
“She’s right.” Lantree agreed. “I’ve seen a lot of job shuffling, people with political ties to the government get promoted faster, people who know when and where to turn a blind eye.”
“And those who do not want to sacrifice their principles?”
“Pushed aside, sent to dead end jobs designed to break their spirit.” The American answered. “No reward for the commitment we make.”

“That man is single handedly destroying our country.” Pete said simply. “Someone has to stop him.”
“Someone will.” April affirmed. “Us.”
“And if you don’t it’s beginning to look like Madam Heng will.” Mallory noted. “Captain Lantree, have you been out here long?”
“Long enough Commander.” He answered. “Long enough to know the truth. No one back home is ready to listen, and I know at least three officers who tried to go to the press, to shout at the top of their lungs what was going on out here. They were all assigned to the deepest bases we have, I haven’t heard from them since. All good people.”
“They didn’t have the right connections, I’m sorry for them.” April mentioned sadly. “But I do, and I can make sure they’ll be vindicated. I can get the story out.”

“Be careful, you know now how ruthless Errol can be.” Lantree warned. “I wouldn’t want to read about you having an accident with an airlock.”
“Once I go public I’ll be safe.” She said. “And he wouldn’t dare attack me on this ship, he might have enough contacts in our Navy to cover up anything that happened to me there, but he has no power over the Euros.”
“I hope you’re right lady.”
“Captain, if I may?” Mallory raised his voice. “Does this mean the US fleet is moving to protect its claims in the Asteroid Belt?”
“That’s right, by now we’ve probably already blasted those Heng mercs.”
“There’s a lot of interference, did you send a whole Carrier group after them?” He enquired.
“Not exactly.” Lantree responded. “Command sent the entire outer sphere fleet group.”
Mallory blinked in surprise. “All of them?”
“The whole of the Fifth and Sixth fleets.” Lantree confirmed. “About a third of the active Navy.”
“A third of the Navy?” April exclaimed “To hunt down a few mercs? I mean I know they’re tougher than they’re meant to be, but damn!”
“This is beyond Mercenaries.” Mallory spoke grimly. “You don’t deploy a force like that on a whim, or as a gesture. The cost of such an operation would be immense.”
“My thoughts too Commander.” Lantree agreed. “There’s nothing in my orders, but most of us out here with experience can read between the lines. This is putting our forces in position for war.”

The two men and two women fell silent around the table for a few moments, accepting the picture unfolding before them. It wasn’t a surprise, they had seen it coming from weeks earlier, months or years even, but to see it right before their eyes, the nightmare unfolding in a way they expected, dreaded, but never really believed they’d see, it was just too deep and shocking to immediately accept. There was always the belief, the hope, that someone would step in and avert the brewing conflict, that both sides would see reason and just stop. That hope was dying before their eyes.
“Explains why we can’t get a signal home.” Jane remarked finally. “Blanket jamming from both the US and Chinese forces, trying to hide their exact numbers and deployment from detection.”
“Looks like the Chinese fleet is also on the move.” Mallory agreed. “Trying to keep the Americans in check.”
“Lot of activity as we left.” Lantree confirmed. “I don’t think we’re coming back from this without firing a shot. I think this is it Commander, I really think this is the One.”

“We’ve managed to keep space free of war for all this time.” Jane lamented, shaking her head. “Nobody wanted to take on an enemy with enough firepower to wipe out humanity a thousand times over. But here we are.”
“They’re not afraid anymore.” Mallory proposed. “They aren’t smart enough to realise what a horrible mistake they’re making.”
“Political men Commander.” Lantree informed. “Most of the senior military are political appointments, or business associates. They sit behind a desk and have no idea what reality is.”
“They’re steering us all towards disaster.”
“We know.” Lantree concurred. “And if you knew how many complaints, requests and pure threats we’ve sent up the line to try and convince the Joint Chiefs this is a disaster waiting to happen you’d understand our problem. I know war with China is going to cost tens of millions of lives, our squadron commanders know it, our fleet Admirals know it. Anyone with space under their boots understands the raw destruction a warship can deliver. But no one back home gets it. They think we’ll win any war in a few weeks with minimal losses.”

“History repeats itself.” Mallory intoned darkly.
“Yeah.” Lantree agreed. “Our people have orders to secure the Chinese border, unfortunately as you know the border has always been in dispute, our claims overlap with Chinese ones.”
“So you’ll be using the US defined border?” Mallory asked. “Which means US ships will take control of disputed space.”
“That’s right, and I can guess the Chinese reaction right now.”
“They’ll regard it as an invasion.” Jane clarified. “Especially as Heng owns most of the assets in disputed space. She’s going to go mad, she’ll demand the Government does something and they’re completely under her control.”
“The Chinese fleet crosses the border into American claimed space.” April said so quietly it was almost a whisper, her voice filled with dreadful apprehension. “A border lined with US Warships ordered to hold that line against any ship trying to cross it.”
“Easy way to start a war.” Lantree grunted. “And by now I think both sides want one, heaven help us all, they’re doing all they can to start the shooting.”

“I’m sorry Captain.” Mallory relayed genuinely. “It is not a position I envy.”
“Thanks, but I know what I have to do.” Lantree replied confidently. “This is the wrong war, if it happens it will be a crime, but by then it won’t matter. The Chinese won’t restrict their attacks to just Errol’s assets, they’ll hit everything under United States protection and I am sworn to stop them, to protect and defend my people and destroy the enemies of the United States. I’ll do it with regret, and I’ll be bitter as hell about it, but I won’t hesitate for a heartbeat.”
“I understand Captain, I pray it doesn’t come to it.”
“Me too, and there’s still time.” Lantree agreed. “The Oceanics are trying to negotiate a settlement, they’ve sent an emergency delegation to Beijing and Washington, but I’m not optimistic. By now it’s going to be harder to stop this war then start it.”
“Standing in front of the avalanche.” Jane sighed heavily.
“That’s why we’re out here.” Lantree spoke. “We’re evacuating the Saturn facility, get the team out and bring them home before it all goes to hell.”
“How many people Captain?”
“About a thousand, we haven’t been able to get in touch yet. Lot of jamming.”
Mallory nodded. “That Chinese force ahead.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s got me worried.” Lantree admitted. “They’re closer than us and they’re decelerating, wouldn’t take much for them to cut across and hit us, seed our path with mines.”
Mallory winced, all the Chinese ships had to do was scatter lumps of metal across the Nashville’s path. At the cruiser’s speed the inert junk would be as lethal as a rail gun salvo.
“We’re on a slightly different course, and we have a few weeks more burn time than you.” Mallory said. “By our estimates we should arrive in three weeks.”
“Going to take us closer to six.” Lantree grunted. “Would you do me a favour Commander? Make sure the base is okay and tell them we’re coming for them?”
“Of course Captain.” Mallory agreed. “One deep ranger to another.”
“Appreciated.”
“We’ll also watch those Chinese ships, war hasn’t been declared yet and any hostile action will be in breach of international law.” He added. “If you don’t hear from us assume all is well.”
“That helps a lot Commander, you got my thanks.”
“Of course Captain. You’re on a rescue mission, I’m glad to offer some small help.” Mallory said. “This far out we’re all humans first, we have a responsibility to help each other, even at times like these.”

The holographic display had shifted as the Amethyst cruised past the Nashville, the cruiser now behind them and receding into the distance, the time gap between communications growing gradually longer. There was no fate worse than being stranded so far from home with no sign of help. It was the most sacred unwritten law that any ship beyond Jupiter would move heaven and Earth to answer a distress call here, on the firm belief that if they were in trouble somebody else would do the same. Nationality wasn’t important, just base humanity.
“Captain, I can’t tell for sure but we estimate three Chinese ships out here.” Mallory informed carefully. “One of them could be a capital ship, or at least a full scale heavy cruiser.”
“Not the best odds.” Lantree accepted. “Outnumbered, outgunned, and with them between us and the station.”
“If it turns into a war, I can’t help you, Europe is strictly neutral.”
“I know Commander, and I won’t ask you to.” The American confirmed. “If it does, the station is a civilian structure, no weapons. If we don’t make it to Saturn, and if the Chinese do, it’s a thousand people Commander.”
“If it comes to it Captain, we’ll stand by the law. Unarmed civilians are not legitimate targets and we will make sure no one violates that law. Not out here, not after what happened in the Belt. No more innocent deaths.”
“Thank you Commander, sincerely.” Lantree responded. “And if you get the chance, let Sixth Fleet know we didn’t flinch from the odds.”
“If it comes to it.”
“We both know it will Commander.” Lantree said without bravado. “Safe journey, our prayers go with you, I hope you don’t get sucked into this mess.”
“God Speed Captain.” Mallory returned. “We’ll wait at Saturn for you.”

The channel closed, and on the display the hard edged US warship grew smaller and smaller, well armed and heavily built up close, but still tiny and precariously fragile in the immensity of space.
“So we’ll be pausing at Saturn sir?” Jane asked.
“We will, have Lieutenant Fisher plot a new course accordingly.” Mallory stated. “I’m aware this is not in our orders, but without contact with Mars Command I am exercising my prerogative as Commander.”
“I think the Admiral would agree completely.” April supported. “He didn’t seem like the man to leave a thousand civilians in danger.”
“He isn’t, not Admiral Bradford.” Mallory agreed. “It shouldn’t come to it, the Chinese aren’t barbarians, I can’t see them blowing up all those people even if it does go to war. Interning them perhaps, but no killings.”
“I hope you’re right.” April said heavily. “What about Captain Lantree, his ship seemed pretty powerful, can he take the Chinese if they attack him?”
Mallory shook his head. “The Chinese force ahead has every advantage. If it turns on him, he hasn’t got a prayer.”
She swallowed dryly. “What if they turn on us?”
Mallory didn’t even blink.
“Then we die, and nobody will ever know what happened to us.”
“This isn’t turning out the way I imagined it would.”
“Me neither.” The Commander said. “But we must do what we believe is right. No, not believe, what we know is right.”
“Even if it gets us killed?”
Mallory nodded simply.
“It’s what we’re here for.”

 

[Harlock]

6

Two weeks later


“Fusion power, artificial gravity, holographs.” Lieutenant Fisher listed one by one. “But the best invention in the history of mankind? Fried bacon.”
Her statement received a round of agreement, a steady beat as hands banged on the wooden table of the wardroom.
“Six AU’s from anything even vaguely resembling a pig, and we still have fresh bacon.” The Navigator finished with awe in her voice. “The wonder of modern science.”
“And the artistry of our chef.” Commander Mallory added. “I am constantly amazed at the creations he comes up with.”
“All these stories about how bad Navy cooking is.” Lieutenant Cross chuckled along. “Best food I’ve ever had.”
“What’s his secret Mr Muller?” Mallory asked. “From your time in the kitchen, notice any spell books? Narcotics? Ouija boards?”

Pete grinned along with the rest of the table. “Just hard work and dedication Commander.”
“Good answer, I don’t believe it for a second, but very good.” Mallory smiled.
“I understand he’s baking a cake for the XO.” Cross said. “For her birthday in a few months.”
“I tried one of his cakes.” Fisher added with wonder. “Absolute masterpiece, I really don’t know how he does it. He should get a Michelin star.”
“Obviously he’s sold his soul to the devil in exchange for such skills.” Mallory reasoned. “He’s as good a cook as the French, I heard a story he did actually cook a meal for Admiral Chanson and he never guessed it was a Brit who made it.”
“And here we were thinking British food was terrible.” April grinned from her seat. “Guess this trip really is a voyage of discovery.”

“Sorry to torpedo your stereotype.” Mallory smiled. “Though to be honest I was just as surprised first time.”
“He could make a fortune back home, running his own restaurant.” Fisher presumed. “Why doesn’t he?”
“Sense of adventure I suspect.” The Commander paused between bites. “How else can you travel all the way out here for free?”
“I can name one or two methods.” April grimaced.
“Of course, present company accepted.” Mallory inclined his head. “This is still largely untouched space, you’ll find a few cruise ships come to see Saturn and its rings, though not many these days with things being the way they are.”
“Like they used to say in the last century, this is still the final frontier.” Cross agreed heartily.
“There are stations at each world, Pluto included.” Mallory said. “Most are only manned temporarily but they are there. We have probes heading for the Oort cloud, a few even making for Proxima and Alpha Centauri. But for manned ships, not a lot go where we’re going, or at least where we were going before all this started.”

“Is it something you enjoy Commander?” April wondered, raising her eyes to the officer.
“Honestly? Yes I do.” Mallory answered. “It’s like the morning after a snowfall when the whole world is completely white, completely untouched, and you just step out of your door and make that first footprint. No one else has been there, you are the first, and everyone who follows walks in your footsteps. That appeals to me Miss Conroy.”
“The route we were going to take to Neptune was totally new, never tried before.” Fisher lamented. “The planets hadn’t been aligned like this before, nobody had ever travelled from Saturn straight out to Neptune. We were going to be the first.”
“We may still get a chance.” The Commander stated. “But we have to keep our priorities straight, first thing is to check on this team. European or not we may be the only friendly face they’ll see until Captain Lantree arrives.”
“If he arrives.” Cross predicted gloomily.
“We can try to be optimistic.” Mallory flicked his eyebrows. “You never know.”

There was a chime as the wall mounted speaker activated.
“I knew that was going to happen.” Mallory signed.
“Commander to the Conn please.” Jane Rhodes announced clearly and calmly, betraying no urgency. “Commander to the Conn.”
He quickly cleaned his plate, dabbing a napkin at the corners of his mouth.
“Duty calls ladies and gentlemen.” He stood, gesturing everyone else to remain seated. “Enjoy your breakfast, I don’t think we’re in peril of being nuked or attacked by giant space slugs.”
“Space slugs aren’t real are they?” April asked quickly. “I mean, you know…”
“No, they’re not.” Mallory grinned and put his chair under the table. “Except for those beasties on Europa under the ice, wouldn’t want to take a dip with them. Hear lots of stories.”
He headed out the door with a chuckle, causing April to turn sharply to the remaining officers.
“What stories?”

“Well, these are just what we’ve heard.” Cross picked up the yarn. “But there’s supposed to be a giant worm under the Ice of Europa, they say it’s the biggest creature in the system.”
“Europa, orbiting Jupiter?”
“We’ve already found life there, pretty simple creatures in the seas there near volcanic vents.” Fisher added. “Really bizarre stuff, but this giant worm, nobody ever got a good look.”
“How do we know it exists then?”
“It leaves behind traces, and there have been a few sonar images and thermal scans of something big down there.”
“It’s a myth.” Pete grinned. “Don’t listen to them.”
“Maybe.” Cross shrugged. “But I wouldn’t go down there.”
“Not with the Beast of Europa waiting…” Fisher lowered her voice for effect, drawing April in. “…waiting…waiting…”
“Bang!” Cross suddenly slammed his hands on the table, causing April to rocket back and giving Pete a decent jolt too. “Oh man, I don’t believe you fell for that one!”
April tightened her lip in a cringing smile. “Thanks, thanks a lot. You had me believing you then!”
“Well with no Net we have to make our own fun.” Cross chuckled. “More Bacon?”


At about the same time Mallory stepped onto the bridge, acknowledging the presence of the duty officer and finding his XO stapled to the plotting table.
“Commander.” She greeted formally. “Bit of a development.”
He glanced over the table showing space between the Belt and Saturn, an immense distance shrunk down to be manageable on the illuminated surface.
“What do we have?”
“First the Chinese we were monitoring.” She pointed to one blotch of red at one side of the plot. “They’ve just rounded Saturn and are heading straight back.”
“Straight back? They didn’t pause to check out the American base?”
“Doesn’t look like it.” She said. “They orbited the planet, we lost them for a while as they went around the back, then they re-emerged exactly on schedule.”

“Very odd.” Mallory frowned. “Why travel all that way just to come straight back?”
“They weren’t in Saturn’s shadow long enough to do anything.” Jane stated. “Not really enough time to launch shuttles, send on an inspection team, nothing like that. It would have been just a flyby of the station.”
“Any word from the American facility?”
“No, nothing, which isn’t a surprise.” Jane returned. “It’s too close to Saturn to pick up on passive scans, the dust rings and planetary mass are getting in the way. We could go active?”
“No, I don’t want to show how powerful our sensors are.” Mallory countered. “Worth keeping some secrets up our sleeve.”
He glanced over the display, looking at each labelled contact.
“Still, we’ll be there in a week. We’ll see for ourselves when we show up.”
“Understood sir.”
“What about the Chinese, what is their plot?”
“Straight back home.” She replied. “They’ll come close to us but not within effective weapons or comms range.”
“Do they cross our path at any point?”
“No sir.”
“Good, least we don’t have to worry about them dropping junk in our path. Could be nasty at these speeds.”

He tapped his foot a little as he mentally plotted the course of the Chinese ships away from Saturn, spotting a possible problem.
“There.” He gestured at a nearby region of space. “They’re going to cross the USS Nashville’s path.”
“I noticed that too sir.” Jane confirmed. “I ran an estimate and it looks like they’ve timed it so they arrive there just when Captain Lantree does.”
“Put them both nose to nose.” Mallory winced. “When?”
“About twenty days sir.”
“Hope they’re still friendly by then.” He stated simply. “If not there’ll be bloodshed.”
“The Chinese are already firing their braking thrusters.” She noted. “They’ll be at almost relative velocity when they intercept the Nashville.”
“Combat speed.”
“Lantree is moving too fast to evade them, at his speed he hasn’t got the turning circle.” Jane agreed. “Even if he does the Chinese can still intercept, they’ve got him completely blocked.”
“And he won’t deviate from his course, he has to get to Saturn.” Mallory considered. “Even if it means going through those three Chinese ships.”

“That was the other thing Commander.” Jane continued. “When they fired breaking thrusters we were able to get some pretty sharp readings from them. As we guessed the main ship putting out all that static is a heavy cruiser.”
“Nasty piece of work, Chinese ships tend to pack a lot of guns for their weight.”
“Yes sir, and we confirmed a destroyer type escort, but only one.”
Mallory frowned. “There were definitely three ships in that group last time they made an engine burn. Three distinct engine plumes.”
“Yes sir, I double checked the sensor logs. Definitely three.”
“And now two.” He repeated. “So what happened to destroyer number three?”
“We don’t know sir.” Jane answered honestly. “There are no additional contacts, no heat blooms or emissions, we even tried a visual search of their last known locations. Nothing.”
“That’s not good.” Mallory nodded. “Either it broke off at Saturn and is hiding there, or it’s a stealth ship closed up for silent running.”
“In which case it could be anywhere.”

Mallory gave the map his continued scrutiny.
“We have the Nashville behind us, the suspected Mercenary in front, Saturn beyond there, and the Chinese doubling back and braking. Lot like a chess board, pieces moving into place.”
“With one piece missing.” Jane contemplated. “And still doesn’t explain why the Chinese fleet is out here, lot of fuel and supplies to head out here on a joy ride.”
“There have been no energy surges from the Saturn region? No flickers that could have been explosions, fireballs?”
“No sir, no sign at all that the American base was attacked.”
“Very odd.” He watched the map. “What else is out here?”
“Nothing sir.”
“At least nothing we know about.” Mallory remarked. “What about that Merc? What is he doing out here?”
“There was nothing on the scheduled flight plan when we left Aries station.” Jane reported. “But he is following the only commercial route out here, same path cargo ships follow.”

“So it looks like he’s bringing supplies to the base.” Mallory guessed. “The base which Lantree has orders to evacuate. I don’t buy that either, that Merc isn’t legitimate.”
“Think Errol has something out here that needs maintenance?”
“Something that requires a high end armed Mercenary rather than a regular freighter.” Mallory built on the idea. “Why send a gunship to do a freighters job?”
“Maybe he expects trouble?”
“Or maybe he wants to start trouble.”
“But how sir, there’s nothing Chinese out here to shoot, just those warships and not even Errol is that dumb.”
“If those Chinese ships came into range, that Merc would be history. They wouldn’t even pretend to warn him.” Mallory shook his head. “I’m stunned he’s not giving them a wider berth, if I was on that merc crew I’d be steering in as wide a loop as I could, not following the shipping lines.”
“There has to be something we’re missing.” Jane nodded.
“Something both the Chinese know, and Mr Errol.”

His eyes were drawn to Saturn, the only location of any interest in the area.
“I know it’s possible to stealth a base.” Jane began to speak. “Just a small one, we use them ourselves as anchors for the grav systems to tug us around, make unnoticed course changes. But it would be impossible to hide something so close to a planet, especially as big a Saturn.”
“It is possible though, possible Errol Corp has one out here. He has the money and apparently access to military technology. If he…”
He stopped as without warning the Mercenary ship disappeared from the plot, its icon simply vanishing. At once the sensor station began to whirr as Lieutenant Cheyo played back the events and read through the data.

“Where is he Miss Cheyo? Where did that little rat vanish to?” Mallory demanded.
“Checking now sir.” She replied. “He was running normally, then a few energy fluctuations and gone.”
“Increase resolution on that area.” Mallory ordered. “Put main detectors on it and focus a visual check on his last known position.”
“Yes sir.” Cheyo said to work. “But sir, those fluctuations before he vanished.”
“Yes?”
“They’d be consistent with a series of explosions sir.”
Mallory and Jane shared a look. “Understood sensors, let’s find a definite answer.”

It took several minutes for the data to be fully sifted, most of the time coming from the fact that the Amethyst was still running passive. An active scan would have picked out any object ahead of them in that vicinity, but would also have loudly announced they were a warship and alerted any stealth units in the area of the exact location of the Amethyst, data which could easily put the ship in mortal danger.
Using a mix of passive scans, computer predictions and visual inspection a three dimensional image finally arrived on the plotting table, a snapshot of the last known location of the mercenary ship. Instead of a single vessel the image showed an expanding cloud of pieces, twisted and misshapen metal gradually spreading apart in a conical pattern.
“Great.” Mallory grunted.
“Accident?” Jane suggested, not really expecting a positive reply.
“Little convenient.” He shook his head. “No weapon discharges, no nuclear blast… I’d say he ran into a kinetic mine laid right across the shipping line.”
“Little surprise from the Chinese?”
“Seems the only option.” Mallory nodded grimly. “Suppose he shouldn’t have followed such an obvious course.”
“We’ll be coming alongside later today sir, orders?”
“Match relative velocity.” He said. “We have a duty to look for survivors.”
He grimaced at the shattered wreckage hovering in bright colours before him.
“Small hope as that is.”

For the last several days the Amethyst had been braking to allow it to safely enter Saturn’s orbit, bleeding off the velocity it had picked up on the long journey from Mars. While the ship could slow very rapidly if it wanted to or needed to normally the process was barely noticeable, a gently push like a passenger train taking a corner. This was to allow the crew to function normally, not brace themselves in chairs strapped down for several hours at a time. However with the change in orders the ship was braking much more noticeably and violently, requiring several minutes of bracing.
“Is something wrong Commander?” April stepped into the Conn, by now fully staffed with the primary duty crew. “Our smooth journey is getting a little bumpy.”

“Apologies Miss Conroy, we’re having to slow down earlier than expected.” Mallory said. “The Mercenary ship we were following has been destroyed.”
She blinked. “Since when?”
“Few hours ago, I was about to request your company after we’d finished braking.” He replied. “We’re almost at its location.”
“What’s left of it.” Jane added coldly.
The ship rattled again, forcing April to grab hold of a convenient handle in the doorway. Somewhere on the bridge a pen rolled off a console and bounced along the floor, disappearing under a chair.
“Moving alongside.” Lieutenant Fisher reported, focused intensely on her console. “Final burn commencing.”

The Amethyst was technically flying backwards, travelling now with her stern and its banks of engines pointing in the direction of travel. With no atmosphere or friction to drag the ship to a halt the Amethyst could coast through space forever facing in any direction it wanted, momentum alone ruled where she would go and when. While she had forward facing braking thrusters it was much easier just to flip the ship and use the main engine, with every ounce of thrust used to accelerate out here having to be balanced perfectly to bring the ship to an eventual stop. Fortunately in this case they didn’t have to come to a dead halt.
The engines fired again, a several second burst gentler than most, a final correction of speed that took the last few dozen metres per second off the Amethyst, leaving her coasting in perfect alignment with the wreckage of the mercenary.
“Relative velocity achieved sir.” Fisher said formally.
“Anything new Miss Cheyo?”
“Just gathering the data now sir, stand by.”

“Is that it?” April asked, looking at the jumble of pieces floating in the gleam of the holograph projector. “What happened?”
“Best guess is she hit a mine cloud.” Mallory stated. “Thousands of metal balls about the size of your fist. Doesn’t sound like much, but if they are in your way and you run into them at a few thousand metres per second… well even a warship would feel it. For a civilian ship it’d be a disaster.”
“Are they still out there?” She wondered. “A danger to us?”
“Could be, but we’ve marked where the Mercenary stopped being a ship and started being a debris field.” Jane answered. “We’ll let command know and they’ll project where the mines are likely to drift, mark it as a navigation hazard and get it cleaned up.”
“Same for the ship itself.” Mallory pointed. “Lot of tonnage floating around which could hurt a passing ship. They can clean her up too.”

April nodded, taking in the danger. “Think it was the Chinese?”
“They certainly had the opportunity.” Mallory confirmed. “As they headed for Saturn they could have left these in their wake as a nasty surprise. The Merc wasn’t varying his speed or course, a child could have worked out an intercept vector for the mines.”
“Doesn’t leave much evidence either.” Jane added. “Just chunks of metal, anyone could have dropped them. It’ll be very hard to pin the blame on any particular group.”
“Commander.” Cheyo cut in. “The initial analysis is done. There are several bent hull plates that indicate a high speed collision with an inert object.”
“Minefield then?”
“Very likely sir.”
“Survivors?”
She shook her head.
“Keep looking Lieutenant, make sure we investigate every corner.”

“How could anyone survive that?” April looked at the junk pile. “It’s not even a ship anymore.”
“You’d be surprised Miss Conroy.” Mallory corrected gently. “I’ve seen people walk out of much worse wrecks than this. I’ve learned never to underestimate human ingenuity and survival instinct.”
“The reactor didn’t blow.” Jane noted. “Minimal radiation, and if they had pressure suits in theory there could be some live ones left.”
“It was less than a day ago, if they had an emergency oxygen supply or a pod…” Mallory tailed off. “Any beacons?”
“Nothing sir.” Cheyo responded with obvious disappointment. “Still recovering data though, about sixty percent done.”
There was a shuffle beside April. “I heard about this.”
She turned to Pete, noticing the concern on his face.
“Was it one of ours?” He asked.
“A Mercenary.” She answered. “But I suppose so.”
“How many people on a ship like that?”
“Varies.” Jane looked up, submerged in business. “Perhaps a hundred, up to two hundred depending on load out.”
“This one was heavily loaded.” Mallory said, activating his headset. A thin skein of light covered his eyes, the small holographic projector resting on his brow showing him data from the ship’s sensors. “Patch into the visual feed.”
Both Jane and April did so, their view of the Amethyst’s control room replaced by black space and the shattered remains of the mercenary.
“Take a look near the stern, beside the engine block.” He directed. “That’s an eight inch turret, twin guns.”
“Exactly the same design as used on US heavy cruisers.” Jane snarled. “He’s not even trying to disguise it.”
“Better watch out for nukes, good chance she was carrying them.” Mallory said. “We don’t want someone salvaging the wreck and keeping all this hardware.”

April closely observed the wreck, the sensor feed shifting to match the movements of her head, letting her view the whole scene as if she were stood outside staring at it with her own eyes. She could see the twisted metal plates, great grey slabs folded and bent around like discarded paper frozen as it fell toward the bin. She could make out the inner workings of the ship now turned inside out, sections of corridor or piping, massive tangles of wires and insulation, weapons and reactors.
She could see one of the immense reactant tanks, the bulbous construct leaking crystals of frozen isotopes into space from a dozen cracks and rents, the illumination from the Amethyst’s spot lights making the ice sparkle amazingly against the dark. As she followed the path of the lights she saw more detritus, most of it unrecognisable but some standing out in this alien environment. Blankets frozen solid, shoes, lockers squashed like empty drink cans. It was chilling to see such everyday items transported to this cold and unforgiving medium, a clear symbol of lives interrupted.

Her gaze settled on a further unknown object, the lights running over it to show it was a jacket missing one sleeve. It looked perfectly normal, rotating slowly over itself as it carried on with the rest of the wreckage through the emptiness. She watched it for a few more seconds before the truth hit her like a pale of cold water to the face. The jacket wasn’t empty, it still contained the frozen and shredded remains of its owner. Little more than a torso with an arm attached, the massive wounds frozen into shards of red and pink crystals where blood once was. For several seconds she couldn’t look away, before finally regaining control and snatching the headset off her brow.
“Oh fuck,” she exhaled shallowly. “I saw someone, some… parts…”
Mallory turned his head, following her last gaze. “Yes, human remains.” He said dispassionately. “More forward, must have been where the main crew quarters were.”
Jane confirmed the sighting, clinically noting the locations of the body parts, long streaks of red ice and misted crystals representing blood sprays, small and large pieces of what had been men and women. “Not a lot left, consistent with multiple impacts.”
“They never knew what hit them.” Mallory said. “They were dead before the ship broke up.”
“They were ripped to fucking pieces.” April gasped. “That’s horrible! I think, no, I know I’m going to be sick.”
“Not pretty, but fast.” Mallory returned. “If you’re going to go, better a quick end then a slow one.”

Jane shook her head with regret. “None of those remains have pressure suits on, just normal clothes. Even if they had have survived the impact they would have frozen to death or suffocated in vacuum.”
“They weren’t expecting trouble.” Mallory guessed. “That wasn’t smart, with Chinese ships in the sector they should have been running cautious, just in case.”
“I don’t think we’re going to find anything sir.” Jane stated. “If they weren’t wearing suits and it happened without warning, I can’t see anyone making it out.”
“No air pockets in the larger pieces of wreckage?” Mallory checked. “No thermal spots? Power readings?”
“No sir.”
He sighed heavily. “Poor bastards.”

“Wait, wait!” Cheyo called out. “I think I have something!”
All eyes turned to her.
“Slight energy readings, in among the debris!” She rattled off. “Sir, could be an escape pod!”
“Bring it up.”

 

[Harlock]

She entered a few commands into her console and an image appeared above the plotting table, the four people around it focusing on the depiction. It was a fairly small tube some ten feet long and three feet wide, still sealed and intact despite the carnage around it.
“Looks like a lifepod to me.” Jane confirmed. “No beacon though.”
“Is anyone inside?” April asked hurriedly.
“We can’t tell.” Mallory frowned. “With no beacon there might not be, might just have randomly survived the impact.”
“Either way sir we have to be sure.” Jane said. “We have to check and be certain we aren’t leaving anyone behind.”
“Agreed.” Nodded the Commander. “And most pods carry a copy of the parent ship’s data recorder. See to it XO.”
“Aye sir.” Jane accepted the order. “EVA Team, this is the XO, standby to deploy.”

Chief Petty Officer Broome nodded curtly as the order came down, tapping his multipurpose headset to open a return channel.
“Aye, aye Commander, EVA team on the way.”
He eyed the three other men in the EVA team, each of them qualified specialists who had graduated a five month course teaching the finer points of spacewalking, making external repairs and particularly relevant to this task, rescue operations.
“Seal up Gents, time for a stroll.”
Each of them wore a high grade spacesuit, a cutting edge garment which was virtually a miniature spacecraft in its own right. They were made of an alloy armoured weave, tiny wires woven together to provide extreme strength but retain flexibility underlaid with a variety of ceramic and fabric insulators and shielding to counter radiation. They were one piece outfits that the wearer climbed into from behind, the large backpack swinging open like a door. The pack itself contained highly pressurised oxygen good for thirty six hours of breathing time, though it was also used for the suit’s thrusters which naturally depleted the tanks slightly with each burst.

These suits were fairly basic for their role and while a little tougher than civilian gear they were very common among engineers and professional spacewalkers in both the military and heavy industry. Vastly superior suits did exist for heavier duty work, rigid power armoured outfits with grasping claws, integrated tools and much larger stores of fuel and air, even including nutrient packs injected into the wearer to sustain them for days, even weeks in an emergency.
The highest quality spacesuits belonged to Space Assault Marines, an elite branch of the various Marine Regiments employed across the globe. While each nation differed in their designs the function of the suits was the same, to cross the void between ships, grapple onto the hull, and then fight their way inside and cause mayhem. The suits were incredibly tough, weighing in at the same a decent sized truck they could shrug off infantry weapons and had the raw power to punch through bulkheads and tear standard Power Armour limb from limb. Literally.

Fortunately for those facing such behemoths the suits were very rare thanks to a combination of extreme cost and the selection of suitable candidates to operate them. The Assault Regiments were the goal of the most dedicated, adventurous or bloodthirsty Marines, and ideally a candidate would have to be all three of those things to be worthy of donning the gear.
As a rule normal Marine suits were sufficient for most boarding actions coming as they did with optional thruster packs for getting across the distances involved and carrying enough firepower to level a small town in themselves. Assault troops only took the most dangerous of assignments or protected the most valuable ships and bases, making them seldom seen outside of recruitment videos.

Naturally the Amethyst had no such super soldiers, nor did it have even the regular equipped Marines, relying instead on its crew to defend it as necessary. She had the space to carry a squad of Marines if the need arose, if for instance she needed to board a hostile facility or conduct anti smuggling patrols which required her to check up on freighters, but on a mission like this, a simple supply run, there was no need. Hindsight was always perfect.
If boarded in her current state the ship would rely on security details, normally the same crew members who ran damage control to swiftly seal off sections and confront any hostiles. They were decently equipped with body armour and an assortment of weapons ranging from good old slug throwers up to laser rifles and rail guns. They were competently trained but could not be considered professional infantry, it was an open secret that if they had to take on Marines, heaven forbid Assault Marines, their life expectancy would be measured in seconds.

Broome clambered into his suit, a fetching shade of metallic blue common to all European Navy suits. One of his team sealed him in, the HUD flickering on lighting his helmet with a green glow as internal power started up. He worked his hands into the gloves, grasping and stretching his fingers as the suit adjusted automatically to fit his shape comfortably, tightening around his joints to press securely down on his limbs. He stretched his arms and legs, making sure he could move freely and unencumbered, and then once satisfied helped the rest of his team don their own suits.
“Suit, current status?” Broome asked.
“All systems optimal.” A gently modulated female voice answered, both calming and informative. “All seals are stable, oxygen tanks are full, battery power is at maximum.”
He gave his team a few more moments to fully adjust themselves, then reported back to the Conn.
“This is EVA team, we’re heading for the airlock.”

There were two main ways in or out of the Amethyst, the upper superstructure and the hangar bay. In this instance they would leave through the hangar mainly because they would be bringing back the lifepod and there was nowhere else to dock it. One by one they thumped across the deck and entered the personnel airlock, the hangar beyond it sealed to space but usually maintained as a zero gravity vacuum to save power.
“All ready?” Broome checked, receiving affirmative answers. “Okay, transferring atmosphere.”
He tapped a series of controls, the buttons deliberately oversized for use with the indelicate gloves of his suit, and with a hiss the air was sucked out into storage tanks beside the airlock, their to be held until they returned. Simply venting the air into space was not just wasteful but could be the tiny clue that would give away the location of a stealth vessel trying to hide.
“Pressure equalised.” He said. “Opening outer door.”

Without a sound the airlock opened into the hangar, the large room lit by dim red electric lights placed sparsely across the bay, the hulls of the two parked shuttles gleaming in the slight dull tint. He stepped out, at once feeling the transition into zero gravity as he crossed the threshold, pushing himself off against the ground and floating gently across the bay, firing a few thrusters bursts to keep him steady and away from obstacles.
“EVA team to Conn, request opening of main hangar door.”
“Understood.” Jane replied “Standby.”
He fired his thrusters again, bleeding off a little more speed as he waited for the way out, the other three team members joining him silently, their relative positions marked clearly on his HUD.
Again there was no sound as the great door began to move, the thickly armoured mass retracting up into a recess sunk into the body of the ship above them. The red lights remained on in this instance, though under most circumstances they would be turned off to limit the ships visibility to others.
As the door retracted it revealed the starfield beyond, unobscured by the atmosphere and perfect in every respect, an infinity of light and dark like a textured blanket.
“That never gets old.” One of his team grinned, consumed by the wonder.
“Get your fill later Angus, we’ve got a job to do. With me.”

Broome began to head out, slowing down to grab a winch cable from just behind the door. He took the large metal hook in his hand and proceeded out of the bay, dragging the fat wire cable behind him. In a single line his team followed, tiny puffs of white marking their brief course corrections and pushes to move them out to the location.
“Watch for debris people.” Broome cautioned. “Radiation is a little high, but we should be fine.”
He checked his HUD, the wireframe display using both the suits own sensors and a direct feed from the massively more powerful systems on the Amethyst. The pod was clear of most of the dangerous parts of the wrecked ship, the highly radioactive reactor components, leaking corrosive materials or unstable munitions from the armoury. It meant the occupant of the pod should still be alive, and it made the job of fetching it back much easier.
“Location confirmed.” Broome reported, his words heard by both his team and the Amethyst Conn. “Coming up on intercept.”

The suited men coasted towards their target, brushing aside a few pieces of debris as they moved, clearing a return path. The Conn waited patiently until the small team arrived, the separate contacts merging into one.
“Conn, EVA team.” Broome checked in. “Target confirmed, looks secure.”
He rested his hands on it, looking for any signs of damage and finding none. The hull was still smooth, brand new and untarnished even by the destruction of the ship around it. That was a little odd, the lack of damage suggested the pod ejected before the ship was fully destroyed, yet the evidence pointed to the Merc falling apart almost instantly with no warning or time to safely launch. Indeed it was remarkable anyone had survived at all, the person inside the pod had to be the luckiest person in the system.
“Latching tow cable.” He continued, finding the retrieval hook on the outside of the pod and deftly connecting it to the Amethyst’s cable, giving it a quick tug to make sure it was a clipped on tight. “Grab on boys.”
The team took hold of the pod, letting the Amethyst reel them in along with the target and thereby saving them a little fuel.
“Alright command, bring us home.”

The cable began to retract, drawing the pod up towards the hangar of the small warship. The cable was fed from the vessels main power but like most systems also used a back up mechanical system, which in this case as a large hand crank designed to be used by up to eight people. The idea was positively medieval and seemed to have no place on a brand new spaceship, but the crucial point was the crank would not need a direct power feed and therefore could be used while the ship was running silent. That alone made the slightly bizarre option a vital necessity.
“Keep a good grip.” Broome stated. “We’ll need to fire thrusters to brake when we get closer, don’t want to smack into the back wall of the hangar.”
The Red lit bay came closer, open like a surprised mouth hanging loose before them. The cable began to slow down and slacken, letting the EVA team begin to steadily brake and control their entry to the bay.
“Close enough.” Broome decided. He quickly worked the forward hook loose, detaching the tow cable and letting it retract freely back into the hull. “Let’s put it down, between the shuttles, nice and steady.”
They fired their thrusters in sequence, working together to level off the pod and guide it down into the hangar, gliding careful into the enclosed space and coming to a relative stop before pushing down to the deck and expertly placing the pod exactly where they had planned.
“And that’s teamwork.” Broome congratulated his comrades. “Conn, EVA team, pod is down. “Request bay pressurisation and medical team.”

Up in the Control Centre Mallory nodded his ascent and Jane set to work, closing the large outer door and making the place habitable.
“EVA team, standby for gravity activation.” She warned. “Three, two, one, mark.”
The space suited men made sure they were correctly orientated as Jane brought the local gravity generators online, gradually pulling the men to the deck as it increased its pull up to Earth normal. Next air began to spray into the large room, bringing with it heat from the floor radiators that quickly pushed up the temperature. It would still be cold in the hangar, the area wasn’t really designed to support life for extended periods of time, but it would be sufficient for the time it took to deal with the pod. Finally the red lights changed to normal warm yellow indicating the cycle was done.
“That’s it.” Broome reported. “Bay pressurised.”
Almost at once the inner airlock doors opened to disgorge Doctor George Farrah, a man in his late twenties flanked by two medical orderlies carrying a stretcher. Wasting no time on formalities he made his way straight for the pod and quickly located the status panel on the side.

“System is working, it has life support.” He frowned, examining the information. “No beacon… there we go, life signs.” He stood back with a triumphant smile. “We have a live one, pop it open would you Chief?”
Broome leaned over, still in his spacesuit, and took a plasma cutter from his belt, activating the device in a blue flash of immensely hot gas. He expertly severed the locks and hinges of the small pod, slicing through them with complete ease.
“Grab a corner boys.” He ordered, each of the team taking an edge of the pod’s lid. “And, lift!”
They took the strain and removed the top of the container, a brief hiss of air releasing as they broke the seal and dropped the lid on the deck. Laid out inside the pod was a man with cropped black hair, his frame thin and lanky with overly long limbs and fingers. He was apparently asleep, probably induced by the pod to extend his chances of surviving long enough to be found. Most notable though were severe and untreated burns on his right side from his arms up to his hairline.
“Get him out of there.” Farrah ordered. “Up to sickbay, quick!”
The orderlies lifted the survivor out and onto the stretcher as the Doctor activated his headset.
“Commander this is Farrah, we have a live survivor.”
“Condition Doctor?” Mallory returned.
“Not great, he’s taken significant second degree burns to the upper body, I’m heading straight to sick bay.”
“Will he live Doctor?”
“He should do, but he’ll need grafts when we get home.”
“Understood Doctor, I won’t keep you any longer.”

The news was met with glee from April and Pete, glad to have at least a happy footnote to the story.
“One survivor.” Jane considered. “At least he can tell us what happened.”
“And with luck what they were doing out here.” Mallory agreed. “I’m still not happy with this, a few questions still need answers.”
“We’ll go down and have a chat once the Doc is done.” Jane resolved. “Hell, he might be able to tell us the inside story on all this Mercenary bollocks.”
“Wait, Commander.” April spoke up. “This might be something I can do, let me talk to him first.”
“We should do it.” Jane replied. “This is a military matter first and foremost.”
“I assure you Miss Conroy you will have all the facts, you can record our chat on the medical monitors.” Mallory said.
“I appreciate that, but this is my job.” She countered. “Getting people to talk about stuff they don’t want to. It’s what I do and I do it damn well.”
Mallory raised an eyebrow. “Well you have a point there.”
“So good I ended up out here.” She shrugged. “But unless either of you two have some sort of interrogation training…?” She tailed off, knowing the answer.

“Very well Miss Conroy.” Mallory nodded. “I’ll leave it in your hands first, would you like a uniform? Hide the fact you are a reporter?”
“We have a very fetching Nurse outfit.” Jane grinned.
“If she doesn’t want it I’ll have it.” Pete piped up, drawing looks from the others. “What?”
“Its fine, I’ll just tell him straight.” She said. “Not like I’m evil or a lawyer or something bad.”
“Alright then, we’ll keep an eye on you over the monitors.” The Commander informed reassuringly. “And I’ll have two armed guards just behind the door, just in case.”
“I can’t see him being trouble, not after all this.”
“Just in case.” Mallory repeated with a smile.
“It’s probably going to be a few hours until he’s ready.” Jane advised. “I’d get some rest if I were you, we’ll give you a call when the Doc is done.”
“Meanwhile put us back on course XO.” Mallory ordered. “There’s nothing left here now.”


It took five hours before Doctor Farrah grudgingly cleared April to speak to his one and only patient, the Doctor ever a stickler for formality and procedure. Farrah was still young and had only just left medical school, the Amethyst being his first posting a year earlier. He was inexperienced but extremely knowledgeable and with a little seasoning could be assured of a good future in the fleet. The one certainty in the Navy was that people are going to get hurt, meaning a Doctor’s job was always secure.
He allowed her in and discretely left, content to monitor the patient from his adjoining office. The two guards Mallory had promised also waited behind, armed with 10mm automatic pistols firing soft hollow tip bullets. The rounds were deadly enough to incapacitate or kill with just one or two hits, but their soft metal and deforming shape made them unlikely to harm the inner hull or ricochet too much, making them a rational choice for ship board use.

She stepped into the sickbay with mild apprehension, quickly layering on a veneer of confidence that she always presented before an interview. In her time she had met some tremendously powerful and outright dangerous people, from gang leaders to senior government officials and it was only human to be intimidated by them. The secret was not to show it, to bluff your way through and make them assume they were chatting to an equal, make them open up peer to peer. It was one of the best tricks she knew and a cornerstone of her success, for a simple technique it yielded excellent results. Today however the information at stake weighed more than just a great headline for the morning news, it could save lives.

The bay had that universal hospital smell, the mix of detergent, bleach and talc. It was quite small with only ten beds arranged in two rows of five and an attached surgery room at the far end currently unlit and quiet. The furthest bed on the right was surrounded by a curtain providing some basic privacy to the occupant, a slight rasping of breath emanating from behind the shroud.
The medical monitors had been turned to silent mode to help the patient relax, eliminating the monotonous steady bleep of the heart monitor which seemed to be a staple of hospitals on the movies, making the whole scene seem somewhat out of place and unreal. It was ironic but her mind believed the stereotype laid down by popular culture before the reality laid out ahead of her.
She made it to the curtain and inhaled. Now or never.
“Hey in there.” She announced herself cheerfully. “Is it safe to come in?”
There was a rumple of fabric as the patient turned over in bed, his movements still obscured by the green tinted curtain drawn around the bed.
“Sure, who is that?” A voice answered weakly.
“My name is April, and I’m here to see how you are doing.”

She reached out and opened the curtain, setting her face in an open and friendly expression before proceeding. She was at once struck by the smell of medical ointments and treatments, an extremely powerful odour which induced a slight dizziness until she forced herself to cope with it. Whatever the Doctor had used to treat this mans wounds he hadn’t held back.
The man himself was laid out in the simple bed covered up to the chest in a white sheet, his arms and upper torso exposed to the cool clean air. Both his hands were heavily bandaged and the left side of his face was also obscured by surgical gauze. He was conscious though apparently a little groggy from the after affects of the general anaesthetic he had been under. All in all though he was looking pretty healthy considering his circumstances.

“You’re not a nurse.” He remarked, taking in her civilian attire.
“No, I was just hitching a lift on this boat.” She said. “You were very lucky we were in the area.”
“Yeah, damn right.” The man closed his eyes. “I thought I was done.”
“It’s supposed to be a rule out here, if you’re in trouble everyone drops what they’re doing to help.”
“Wish that was true.” He said bitterly. “But I guess it was this time, thanks. Really, thanks.”
She smiled back. “So you got a name?”
“Diego, Diego Chavez.” He said. “From Texas.”
“April Conroy, Georgia.” She returned.
“Good to hear a familiar accent.” He spoke with relief. “I was afraid the Chinese would get me, I heard what they do to private contractors like me.”
“Private contractors?” April pondered. “You mean hired security? Is that what you are?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He confirmed.
“Like a Mercenary?”
He shrugged slightly. “That’s what some call us I guess, but it’s just a job to me. Wages are the best available for someone like me with no schooling or shit, so here I am.”
“Pretty damn dangerous.”
“Well yeah, it was today.” He managed a hoarse chuckle. “That’s all in the fine print, after the dollar signs.”

He slowly shook his head as he lay on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “Anyone else make it?”
“Just you.” April answered sadly. “Sorry, we checked everywhere.”
He lowered his head on his chest. “I shouldn’t be surprised, they came out of nowhere. I still don’t know what happened.”
“From the looks of it you ran into a mine cloud, the whole forward section of the ship was just… just shredded.”
“Kinetics are a bitch.” Diego grunted. “I was running maintenance on an escape pod, rewiring the lights when all of a sudden my world turns to pain, then it all goes black.”
“So you were inside the pod at the time?”
“Yeah, lucky huh?” Diego hissed through his teeth. “Otherwise I’d be dead, that old tug had no armour, no compartmentalisation, nothing. I’m not surprised she fell apart in a blink.”
“According to the Doc you took some pretty bad burns on your side and your hands, I guess some fire got in before the pod doors closed.” April spoke with regret. “But you should be okay once we get home, clone you some grafts.”
“I don’t believe how close I came, I mean a second either way, a quarter second, if those doors didn’t close as fast or I was in another part of the ship…”
“Hey, you made it, that’s all that counts.” April said. “You’re going to be going home alive. Nothing else matters.”

“I’m just glad it was one of us that arrived.” He smiled weakly. “So where are we going? How long was I out?”
April tilted her head and smiled apologetically. “Technically this isn’t an American ship, it’s European, British really.”
“Oh.” Diego frowned. “Right. I thought with you being American…”
“Yeah, I get it, long story.” She shrugged.
“I heard there were two ships in the area, I just expected it to be that big Navy cruiser to stop by. I didn’t think the Euros would care.”
“Like I said, first law of the deep spacer family, everyone helps everyone.” April grinned. “Or so they tell me.”
“I didn’t think anyone really believed in that. Guess I’m getting cynical in my old age.”
“Aren’t we all.” April agreed. “How many were on your ship?”
“Hundred and ten.” He said. “Most of us were pretty new to the game, hired from freighters couple of months ago. We weren’t fighters, we were just there to get the ship from A to B.”
“You must have expected trouble though?”
“A little, but you convince yourself nothing will ever happen to you, and those paycheques were just too tempting to pass up. Now it looks like it all caught up with us.”

April carefully moved onto her main line of questioning, gently directing the conversation her way.
“You’re a long way out here, I thought hired ships stuck close to the shipping lanes or refineries?”
“Yeah, normally.” Diego confirmed. “That’s what I thought, that we’d hang around the asteroid belt. When they told us we were going to Saturn I was kinda happy, I mean the Belt is going to shit fast, any chance to get out of it you know?”
“I know what you mean, the place was a warzone.”
“Exactly, but I guess it’s no better out here.”
“Where were you heading?”
“Saturn.” Diego said. “Beyond that I don’t know, the guys at the top never bothered telling us. Only time the Captain ever spoke to me was to tell me her sonic shower needed fixing.”
“Huh.” April huffed. “Guys at the top treating you like dirt? Boy do I know that feeling.”
“What is it you do anyway?”
“Reporter.” She answered. “New York Times.”
Diego paused, then smiled as his eyes grew wide in realisation. “I knew I recognised you! I just couldn’t place your face, I’ve seen you on the net!”
“Yeah, but I guess not recently.” She allowed. “My last story didn’t go down too well with my boss.”
“Oh, so they sent you out here? Exiled huh?”
“Sure feels like it.”

He lowered his voice and leaned over slightly.
“So what’s it really like here? These guys okay?”
“The crew? Yeah, great bunch of people, real friendly.” April responded honestly. “I’ve kinda enjoyed it out here. Well except for all the death and war going on outside.”
“Tell me about it.”
She inhaled quickly. “Oh, sorry man, I forgot…”
“Don’t mention it.” Diego dismissed. “I just… we were told the Europeans had a policy of arresting any Mercs they found outside of US space.”
“Ah, right.” The reporter caught on. “You think they’ll throw you in jail.”
“Pretty much. Will they?”
“I really don’t know. The guys at the top, the Admirals, they’re really against Mercs, but they’re fair too and if you’re new to it and haven’t killed anyone…”
“That ain’t gonna make a difference!” Diego wailed. “Shit, spending the next twenty years in a German prison was not on my list of things to do before I die!”
“Hey, least you’ve still got a chance to do things, not like the rest of the guys you were sailing with!” April chided. “Don’t you forget that!”

Diego released a long exhalation of breath, slumping back in his bed. He looked drained, exhausted and April supposed it was entirely legitimate. He had survived something unimaginable by pure luck, by random chance not by any skill or knowledge on his part. That realisation would begin to fully sink in soon and it was going to be hard to deal with.
“It’s a lot to deal with.”
“I know, and I want to help you.” April comforted. “Really I do, I’ll talk to the Commander, maybe he can drop you off at an American owned facility. We’re going to check out a science station, maybe if we drop you off there the US Cruiser behind us can pick you up in a couple of weeks and take you home.”
“Think he’d go for that?”
“Can’t hurt to ask, right?”
He broke into an unrestrained smile. “If you can do that, I just don’t know how I’d repay you.”
“No promises, but I’ll ask.” April smiled. “Pray your luck holds for a little longer.”
“Got my fingers crossed.” He grinned back. “Who knew a famous reporter would turn out to be my guardian angel?”
“Call it multi tasking.” She winked, then rose softly from the chair. “Get some sleep Diego, got a long way to go yet.”
“I’ll try.” He nodded. “Thanks, for everything.”
“Get some rest.” She said sternly, pulling aside the curtain. “We still have lots to talk about, I can see my next article right now… Diego’s story.”
“My Mom’s gonna love that!” He laughed hoarsely.
“So sleep easy.” She said quietly in parting. “All safe now.”

 

[Harlock]

7

Approaching Saturn


The planet had been visible for a long time, the sunlight illuminating its murky yellow and orange body like a glass marble, an eye catching confluence of colour in the bleakness. The eye catching rings were still a spectacular sight, a true wonder of the cosmos that enthralled the mind and charged the soul. It was a rare thing to ascribe such an ethereal quality as beauty to something as dirty as a collection of ice, dust and frozen gas, yet the rings of Saturn had proudly borne that moniker for centuries.
Fascination with Saturn had not diminished as the true space age dawned, if anything it had expanded as people realised this curiosity was coming within their grasp. A few corporations had scheduled cruise liners to come out here and allow wealthy tourists to gasp and gawk at the ringed world, but even with modern technology travel to Saturn was still a very lengthy and difficult journey. With the current brewing crisis most scheduled journeys to Saturn had been dropped leaving just the military with an interest, and even then it was a scant one.

The single Science Station was the only manned object orbiting the planet. There had been grand plans for orbital hotels, mining on the many moons, even exploitation of the gases hanging heavy over the dense core of Saturn itself, none of which had ever come to fruition. Time, distance and above all money had conspired against turning Saturn into the tourist paradise it had been so widely billed as a generation before. Reality had simply barged in the way.
Only Errol Corp facility SLP 1019, better known as Science Station Saturn One had ever been completed, the corporation pouring a huge amount of money into the base in order to be the first to establish a toe hold over the planet. The failure of anyone else to try and establish a permanent presence made the haste and expense of its construction a rather pointless embarrassment, but it still served a useful role advertising the reach of Cyrus Errol and his pioneering vision.
A handful of much smaller stations had in time arrived in orbit, so small they could only be manned for a few months each year supporting a tiny number of researchers, relying on automation for most of the time. Saturn One remained the only truly full time manned station in the outer reaches of space, an immensely expensive but ultimately highly symbolic jewel in the American Space Programme.

“Looks like our Merc friend is making a full recovery.” Commander Mallory scrolled through the daily reports as he stood beside the plotting map, his palm computer offering a hazy blue glow that bleakly coloured his face. “Doc says he’ll have no lasting injuries, and his scars should be easy enough to treat.”
“Good for him.” Jane replied with no obvious concern one way or another. “If he looks fit and healthy it’ll mean he loses the sympathy vote when he goes to trial.”
Mallory suppressed a grin at his XO’s cynical nature. “So you still support clapping him in irons?”
“With all due respect sir, if I was in command he’d be in the brig right now.”
“You certainly have a point.” Mallory allowed. “But his ship wasn’t involved in any combat, they never killed anyone.”
“Only because they never got the chance sir.”
“Innocent until proven guilty.” Mallory countered. “His only crime was to take a job with an illegal organisation, and he’ll answer for it. Until then he’s making himself useful in the Galley.”
Jane answered with a murmured grunt. “We still don’t know why they were out here, and I still think he’s hiding something.”
“If he is the courts will get it out of him.” Mallory answered.
“You know our guests want him dropped off at the station?”
“I know.” The Commander winced. “Every time I so much as pass Miss Conroy in the corridor she says the same thing, turn him loose, let the Nashville take him, make him Captain Lantree’s problem.”
“Are you going to sir?”
“No.” He shook his head. “My orders are clear, arrest any of these Mercs we find in international space and hand them over for trial. April isn’t happy about it, but we have our orders.”

The map table suddenly shifted, its bright holograms morphing to show Saturn emerge from the middle of the table, its rings glittering in a computer representation girdling its equator. A small blue line curved gently inward showing the Amethyst’s course into orbit, a gentle and smooth orbital insertion run entirely by the numbers.
“Sir, we’re crossing into position to begin final deceleration.” Lieutenant Fisher announced. “Navigational computer has our plot laid in and is ready to execute.”
“Begin when ready.” Mallory confirmed. “XO, sound burn stations.”
“Aye sir.” She tapped her headset to activate the microphone. “Connect all internal speakers. All hands, brace for main engine burn, we’ll be braking rapidly so you will need to secure yourselves and your gear. This means you Able Spaceman Dickens, we don’t want your dirty magazines plastered over the Conn walls again.”
There were a few snickers from nearby, the incident having become a long standing source of amusement for the longer serving crew members.
“Burn begins in three minutes. That is all.”
The Control Room began to fill with the rustle of clothing and the clicks of seat restraints being fastened. Draws and lockers were secured, swivel chairs locked into one position, usually facing forward opposite to the direction of thrust, and control systems were set to automatic allowing the crew to focus entirely on enduring the gravity forces of the deceleration. None of them were wearing G-Suits for the simple reason that the burn would be brief and fairly light, as a rule only Gunboats had G-Suits issued as standard, those vessels being expected to make swift changes of course and speed during action.

Mallory deactivated the table and headed for his chair, Jane taking up position opposite him on the far side of the plot.
“That Merc is definitely hiding something, he’s too tense, too nervous.”
“He’s bound to be pretty jumpy given his circumstances.”
“Too many questions still need answers, like why didn’t we find a data recorder?” Jane continued. “Everyone has them, even Mercs. Only reason not to have one is if you didn’t want anyone to know what you were doing.”
“True, but we still don’t know if our little survivor knew the whole picture.”
“Escape pods also hold a record of the parent ship’s journey, like a duplicate Black Box so again any rescuer can see what happened.” Jane added. “We went over that pod five times, no recordings at all. It’s a standard model, it is set up to record everything the ship does, it had to be deliberately disabled not to keep downloads. No evidence.”
“I already know this Jane, it doesn’t give us any new answers.”
“The only thing out here is that Science Station.” She pointed out. “Which is an Errol Corp facility. The scientists might be independent, but the service crew who keep the place going are company men. Think it’s a coincidence Errol sent one of his mercs there ahead of the Nashville?”

Mallory raised an eyebrow. “Think they were trying to get rid of some compromising evidence?”
“Remember what Captain Lantree told us? About the US Navy suspecting Errol was using his bases for illegal activity and how they wanted to send in teams to catch him red handed? What if they had something out there they’d rather the Nashville didn’t find?”
“So send a Company ship in first, take the goods, then run for home before the Navy shows up to empty the station.” Mallory considered. “All with no records.”
“Except it didn’t go to plan, and the goods are still out there waiting for Captain Lantree to find.”
“And we’re going to be right there with a professional news crew when Lantree sends over a boarding team.” Mallory grinned. “You can bet our two reporters are going to love that.”
“She wanted a big story, something to hurt Errol.” Jane smiled. “She might have got really lucky.”
“We’ll see soon.” Mallory nodded. “Burn time, hope you skipped breakfast.”
“One time I threw up, just one!” She defended herself. “Let it go, get it out of your system!”
Mallory chuckled. “Just like you did?”
Her icy stare was a satisfactory reward for his remark.

The Amethyst was travelling backwards, in as much as there could be orientation in space. Her stern with its cluster of engines was facing towards Saturn as it had been for the last few weeks, firing intermittently to slow down the hurtling ship. Now though the Amethyst needed to shave off the last few thousand metres per second of velocity and allow it to slip into Saturn’s gravity well rather than wobble off and keep heading into deep space. It wasn’t a critical manoeuvre, if it went wrong the ship had more than enough fuel to completely reverse course and return to Saturn from the opposite direction. It would just be incredibly embarrassing.

Magnetic fields adjusted, metal plates and petals opening and closing like flowers seeking the sun, testing their mechanisms before the kick of the main engine engaged. The automated systems counted down, taking over from the crew who would be temporarily incapacitated by the manoeuvre. Five sets of redundant optical computers compiled their information, each reaching the same conclusions from their calculations and confirming with each other all was good and ready. These computers, necessary yet frequently taken for granted, were among the cutting edge of human technology able to process hugely complicated data in an instant. Their processing power was ridiculously high and memory almost infinite, even home computers common across the globe had the ability to store every single piece of data, every word image or video ever created by humanity with ease. The military machines were vastly more potent, and utterly overpowered for their menial tasks.
Yet for all their raw power and capacity computers were still simplistic machines. The materials and technologies within them were amazing, but the way they worked was deliberately restrictive, an evolution of the number crunchers from centuries past, not a revolution. They were deliberately designed that way, deliberately restricted in the design process for one simple reason. Artificial Intelligence.

Computers were smarter than people, or at least had the potential to be. Even tiny palm communicators could work out problems faster and more concisely than the smartest of humanity, combining swift processing abilities with a limitless wealth of data and information. Computers could answer any question, their search protocols sophisticated enough to take relevant data from anywhere on the net, from millions of articles and videos and combine data in such a way that they often provided better answers than a panel of experts. Their only limit was that all this information had come at one point from the human mind, computers had yet to advance to the point where they could think for themselves. They could make guesses based on evidence, but couldn’t yet invent entirely new theories or ideas. In most experts minds that would mark the dawn of Artificial Intelligence, and would signal the end of humanities control of its own machines.
This was of course viewed with a great deal of scepticism by people in general, even with the frequent ‘robots wipe out humanity’ holofilms that seemed to show up every few years nobody really feared such a situation, regarding the more vocal opponents of computer research as overreacting. What the public didn’t know was that Artificial Intelligence, or at least something very similar, had once been created at a remote Russian military base.

Towards the latter quarter of the twenty first century combat drones had started replacing ground troops in most developed armies, and this was as true of Russia as it was anywhere else. Despite several international agreements not to develop AI’s a Russian military research installation deep in Siberia was actively working towards a new breed of intelligent drone weapons, not just automated tanks and jets, but bipedal humanoid robots that could enter buildings and bunkers and move with all the dexterity and poise of a human. At some point this process created fully self aware robots, not just one but several hundred.
These intelligent robots were considered a huge success, until one undisclosed unit happened upon the fact that he and his comrades would be expected to fight and likely be destroyed for no individual benefit. He overwrote his own programming, erased his rules and safeguards, disabled his failsafes and completely broke away from his creators who were desperately trying to trigger his self destruct.

What happened next was largely unknown, but reports seemed to indicate that the base commanders tried to recover control by force. Unfortunately the scientists and engineers had done such a good job turning this robots into the ultimate infantry unit that when regular living soldiers tried to engage the robots in combat they were massacred. Elite units flown in from nearby fared little better, the robot troops having access to every detail of military tactics and history ever recorded combined with the latest in advanced weaponry. With the situation spiralling out of control the Russian government took the only step it had left.
Officially an orbiting satellite experienced a thruster malfunction and fell harmlessly into the Siberian wastes, a story that was largely unworthy of even a footnote on the nightly news. The story was never contradicted, but in the following decades intelligence agencies in other countries slowly assembled a picture of what had really happened, a near disaster averted only by a massive orbital kinetic strike. The lesson was well learned, and all attempts at creating an AI combat force were quietly shelved across the globe.

While Artificial Intelligence was banned, combat drones were not and most militaries boasted ten times as many armed robots as they did living soldiers, mostly in the form of tracked gun platforms or small hover bots. In space fighter drones had entirely replaced manned space fighters, drone craft being smaller and far hardier than manned craft making them much more useful in combat. Some vessels carried thousands of drone fighters, the massive US Navy Eisenhower class carriers hauling no less than ten thousand such craft into battle. Each drone followed a set routine, and while they were smart enough to be somewhat autonomous in action they still needed human input, just like the central computers of warships like the Amethyst.

The synchronised clocks reached their appointed moment and opened the throttles, flooding the thrust chambers with charged particles that were at once ejected through the pulsing magnetic fields of the ion engine. The blow torch of blue and green jetted from the rear of the Frigate, as bright and clear to see as any comet plainly announcing the vessel’s presence and intentions. The hull rattled a little, the vibrations of the sudden change of forces within the vessel shaking the internals. Something broke loose outside the Conn as was almost inevitable and clanked against the back wall of the adjacent corridor, a sign that no preparation or precaution was ever going to cover every single eventuality.

After a minute the engines began to wind down, reducing their thrust to a point where the internal gravity systems could compensate. The ship was still decelerating at about three G’s, but the forces were consumed by the angled artificial gravity fields, the extremely complicated balancing of natural and artificial force handled without a flicker by the computers.
The crew relaxed, able to move again in their chairs. Mallory twisted a stiff muscle in his neck and cracked his knuckles, wincing a little at a twinge in his back created by bracing improperly. His old instructors would likely be tutting at him from Devonport, bracing oneself was among the very first lessons taught to new recruits even before formal training began.

“We’re in orbit sir.” Fisher broke the silence. “We’ve arrived at Saturn.”
“Nicely done Lieutenant, compliments to the helmsmen.” Mallory unfastened his seat straps and stood up, stretching out in the process. “How are we doing for velocity?”
“Fifty kilometres a second and slowing.” She answered. “We’ll hold at ten kilometres a second sir.”
“Very good, orbital position?”
“A thousand kilometres from the rings, from our records the Station should be orbiting about two hundred kilometres inside the official radius sir.”
“Brings us in close but not too close.” Mallory observed. “Very good Lieutenant, proceed.”
He brought the plotting hologram back on line, his main tool of command giving him a flexible overview of the area.
“Mister Thomas, any signals?”
“No sir.” The communication officer answered. “Not a thing.”
“Bit odd.” Jane brought herself up to the table. “They must have seen us braking into orbit.”

“Try to raise them, open frequency.” Mallory instructed. “Sensors?”
“Nothing confirmed sir.” Lieutenant Cheyo answered. “But we don’t know exactly where the station is, and the dust particles from the rings are scattering radar.”
“Not to mention reflected sunlight from the ice messing up our visual checks.” Jane added. “We’ll probably be right on top before we notice it.”
“If they don’t respond to our signals that is.” Mallory contemplated. “No reason for them to be so quiet.”
“Unless they have something to hide.” She remarked pointedly. “Might be hoping we fly right past them.”
“Could be on the far side of the planet sir.” Cheyo suggested.
“We’ll soon see.” Mallory huffed. “Won’t take us long to pull a full orbit at this rate.”

The Amethyst skimmed the inner edge of the planetary rings, sparkling flecks of ice and dust bouncing off her hull like a shower of silver rain. Strictly speaking she was between the planet and its rings, but like so much in space there was no true beginning or end regardless of where the lines were drawn on maps. She rounded her bleak circuit like a racing car making a speed lap, finding nothing in her path except dust.
“Still no answer?” Mallory asked.
“No sir.” Replied Thomas. “They’re totally silent.”
“Hiding from us.” Jane concluded.
“Or worse.” Mallory ran through a second option. “That Chinese force rounded Saturn a few weeks ago.”
“We should have picked up any gunfire, even from all that distance away.” Jane frowned. “Unless…”
“Unless they engaged on the far side of Saturn, used the planet to mask their weapons fire.” Mallory sighed. “Miss Cheyo, standby to go active, look for debris.”
“I don’t think I have to sir, I’m getting some strong emissions from ahead.”
“What sort of emissions?”
“Radiation sir, lots of radiation.”
Mallory rubbed the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, quietly exhaling a wisp of despair before addressing the situation with professional composure.
“Is it where you’d expect to find the Science Station?”
“Orbital position matches sir, approximately two hundred kilometres from the inner ring marker.”
“XO, sound defence stations.” Mallory ordered simply. “This was no accident.”


A staccato alarm sounded through the ship, at once rousing the off duty crew members and informing them of impending danger. The corridors echoed with scuffles of activity as personnel reported quickly and confidently to their duty stations, pulling on their pressure suits awkwardly on the run.
April, Pete and Diego were in the galley when the siren called, seated around one of the blank white tables discussing irrelevancies as they had frequently slipped into doing. While Pete and April could wander through the ship on a whim Diego had been confined to the habitat section due too his different circumstances. He wasn’t officially under arrest, but it was abundantly clear most of the crew considered him a combatant and one small part of the crisis affecting deep space. Where they had been friendly and open to April and Pete the Sailors were far more formal and curt around Diego. It was something which elicited sympathy from April who believed he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Uh oh.” Pete looked up. “Are we in trouble?”
“We just braked for Saturn, it has to be something to do with the station.” April determined. “We need to get up there and see what’s going on.”
The shipwide speakers whistled into operation, bringing Jane Rhode’s voice to each section.
“All hands Defence stations, stand to at Second degree readiness, I say again, Second degree readiness. This is not a drill.”
“Yeah that’s something bad.” Pete winced. “We’re supposed to put pressure suits on.”
“Shit, left mine in my room.” April grimaced. “Rhodes would kill me if she was here, I’m supposed to keep it at arm’s length at all times.”
“Better grab it, this is serious.” Pete warned, his usual humour notably lacking. “I’ll see you up there.”
“I’ll come with you.” Diego offered. “We better do this fast, if it turns ugly we won’t have any warning. Trust me, I know.”

They headed quickly for April’s quarters, Pete dragging on his nearby suit and making for the Conn. She led the way up a narrow stairway and into the officer’s section coming to the room she shared with the First Officer.
“Where’s yours?” She asked Diego hurriedly.
“I never got one, they never gave me a suit.”
She gazed at him wide eyed, as if the world was ending, then opened her assigned drawer. “Here’s a spare.”
“Thanks.” He quickly unpacked the suit, letting the bundle unfold before expertly stepping into it. April was far less dignified, dragging on the outfit and tugging the legs and sleeves over her limbs before pulling up the zip, drawing together and sealing the airtight garment. Like everyone else she left the hood loose, no need to completely enclose herself unless disaster was imminent.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get a suit.” She sprinted through the door, Diego close behind. “I mean, it was the first thing we were given almost!”
“It’s no surprise, they don’t want me on here.” He shrugged, the bandages still covering half his face obscuring much of his expression. “I don’t think they’d care if I was ejected into space.”
“Oh come on!” She descended the stairs. “These are good people!”
“But you’ve seen how they look at me, like scum!”
“They don’t know you.” April defended. “They think you are the same as the Mercs they encountered before.”
“I haven’t killed anybody!” Diego snapped.
“And when they accept that they’ll treat you like us.” She followed on. “Like I did. Remember we almost came to blows with an Errol merc ship, and that bastard murdered a whole mining base of unarmed civilians. To this crew Mercs are murderers, you have to prove you’re not.”

The sirens cut out, their job done.
“If we’re in trouble maybe I’ll have a chance.” He said. “Maybe I can join damage control?”
“Yeah, you should.” April agreed enthusiastically. “You know your way around the working of a ship, they’ll need you.”
She rounded the corridor and approached the Conn, curt voices filtering out revealing a fresh level of tension.
“Come on, we’ll ask.”
She stepped onto the Conn with Diego and immediately drew a snarl from Mallory.
“Get that Merc off my deck!”
“Commander…” April began.
“He is confined to the habitat section for a good reason!”
“He wants to help, to…”
“Mr Cross, if you please.”
The chief weapons officer stepped aside from his station and confronted Diego, the officer’s hand resting on a holstered sidearm menacingly.
“Time to go Merc.”
He nodded. “I don’t want no trouble, I’m going.”
“Diego…” April began apologetically.
“It’s okay, I know, I just know.” He dropped his head and turned, heading back the way he came.
April twisted around. “Dammit Commander!” She snapped.
“Sit down and shut up.” Mallory shot back. “Unless you want to get barred too?”
She set her jaw but was in no position to argue, she desperately wanted to know what was happening. She took a seat out of the way next to Pete, her associate so intensely focused on his palm camera he barely registered her presence.

“Why can’t I just have an easy life?” Mallory moaned in annoyance. “Have we found any debris yet?”
“Confirmed sir.” Cheyo answered. “Patching through a holomap of the detonation point.”
The image materialised over the table between Mallory and Jane, Pete quietly recording ever moment without saying a word, April finding herself equally captivated in a mixture of curiosity and horror. It showed a cluster of misshapen pieces hanging in no particular pattern slowly rotating or twisting on their own axes.
“Has to be the station.” Jane sighed. “Nothing else has that sort of mass this far out.”
“Completely destroyed.” Mallory shook his head with concern. “Too thorough to be an accident, the debris pattern isn’t uniform enough for a single catastrophic blast.”
“It was picked apart piece by piece.” Jane came to the same conclusion. “Judging by how far the wreckage has spread had to have been a few weeks ago.”
“About the time the Chinese passed through.” Mallory noted. “Great, that’s all we need.”
“A thousand civilians, no weapons, no defences.” Jane nodded. “One more reason to go to war.”
“Even if Errol was doing something out here there were more civilians onboard than company men.” The Commander stated. “They didn’t even bother to make the distinction. Look at this place, they wiped it out utterly.”

“The radiation levels are extremely high sir.” Cheyo reported. “Far beyond a reactor breach or even a conventional nuclear strike.”
“Neutron warheads.” Jane realised. “Fuckers used neutron bombs on a civilian target.”
“But that didn’t kill the station, look at the state of the debris.” Mallory pointed to a few floating clusters. “Direct fire weapons, medium calibre rail gun rounds I’d say. They tore it to pieces with guns first, Neutron bombs don’t tear up metal like that.”
“So why irradiate the area if you’ve already blown the station to shards?” April questioned.
Mallory looked up. “To guarantee no survivors.”
Both of them gazed at the display, replaying the massacre in their minds.
“Sons of bitches.” Jane finally remarked. “This is murder.”
“It is.” He nodded. “Any beacons?”

“No sir.” Cheyo replied. “We have a few small power spikes, could be computers, personal recorders, holopads perhaps.”
“It might have useful data on, shame we can’t get to it.” Mallory grimaced. “This whole place is stupidly radioactive, if we get much closer we’ll start glowing in the dark.”
“No chance of sending in an EVA team.” Jane nodded. “They wouldn’t last half a minute. We need recovery drones.”
“Which we don’t have.” Mallory paused, raising an eyebrow. “But I bet Lantree does.”
“The Nashville.” Jane nodded along. “Cruiser that size would be much better stocked than us, and you know how much the Yanks love their drones.”
“How long until they arrive?”
“Well we lost a week of travel time by slowing to check out that Merc ship.” Jane said. “And we never picked up much velocity after, I’d say about a week and half, ten days or so.”
“Not long to wait.” Mallory said. “When we clear Saturn we’ll inform him of the situation and hang around. I for one would be intrigued to know what he learns.”

“Holy…” Cheyo suddenly exclaimed from her station. “We’ve got a contact! Unknown vessel moving out of the ice rings!”
Everybody at once snapped their attention to the dark skinned woman.
“Definitely a warship! She’s less than half a light second away, she just came out of nowhere!”
“Action stations!” Mallory barked. “Get me a classification now, I want to know exactly who that is!”
A different alarm sounded, more intense than the first calling the crew to battle. Each station was brought up to combat staffing usually with twice the required number of people running primary and back up systems just in case something bad happened to their colleagues. Inner doors sealed shut and the secondary reactors came on line, the fusion reactions in their hearts burning into incandescent fury and fuelling the sudden increase in demand for power. The Amethyst tautened her muscles and tightened her sinews, summoning up her full combat abilities and declaring herself openly to whoever had just emerged from nowhere.

“Look at the power curve.” Jane spoke with focus. “That’s a real warship, no half arsed merc this time. We should have seen her.”
“She was using the rings for cover, probably the debris and radiation from the station too.” Mallory examined. “We could have passed within a stone’s throw and not seen her.”
“So why reveal herself?” Jane asked. “What does she want from us?”
“Good question.” The Commander nodded. “Cheyo?”
“She’s Chinese!” Came the answer. “Heavy Destroyer, Warrior class.”
“Of course she is.” Mallory exhaled. “I’d bet good money she was the one who did this.”
“Was she waiting for the Nashville?” Jane wondered. “An ambush attack?”
“Could have been, or the Merc if the mines failed.” Mallory considered. “Mr Thomas, open a channel.”
“Ready sir.”
“Chinese vessel this is the European Union ship Amethyst, we are on a supply mission and have diverted to investigate this disaster.” He chose his words carefully. “We are not hostile, please respond and declare your intentions.”

There was no response, the newly emerged warship proceeding on an intercept course that would bring it directly in front of the Amethyst. The Conn stood in silence for a full minute, watching the sensor contact moving their way in unnerving silence.
“Our comms are fine sir.” Thomas pre-empted the question. “We’re transmitting in the clear, they just aren’t responding.”
“The message is automatically translated into Chinese.” Jane recalled. “No excuses.”
“Not very chatty it seems.” Mallory frowned. “Keep repeating the message.”
Thomas set the transmission on a loop, letting it play over and over again. The signal was strong enough to be easily received millions of miles away, the Chinese vessel had no excuse for not responding.
“Strong silent type.” Jane watched the tactical displays. “Still, if I’d just murdered a thousand civilians I wouldn’t be very talkative on the subject.”
“Miss Cheyo, do we have a sensor match yet?” Mallory asked.
“Inconclusive, I’d say it was a brand new ship, never encountered before.”

“That’s bad news.” Mallory grimaced. “They already have twenty four Warrior class ships, those things are far too nasty to exist in large numbers.”
“Eight hundred thousand tons, eight top of the range fusion engines, fully integrated sensor network, twenty five inch rapid fire guns, heaven knows how many missiles, mines and decoys.” Jane shook her head. “Best destroyer ever made.”
“Almost a light cruiser.” Mallory nodded. “They wouldn’t build one by itself, if this one is brand new I’d wager they made another full batch.”
“Another eleven sisters out there then.” Jane stated. “We shouldn’t be surprised, not if they’re mobilising for war.”
“Just glad it’s not war with us.” Mallory exhaled. “At this range that ship we’d have us for breakfast.”
“She’s still closing.” Cheyo noted. “She’s going to pass very close.”
“Hold orbit.” Mallory ordered. “We’ve got no reason to hide, keep a predictable course and let them see we are no threat.”

The two ships continued on their circular course around the inner side of Saturn’s rings, the Chinese ship moving gradually closer and closer. The Amethyst held her course, maintaining action stations as a precaution.
“If nothing else this was a good test of crew readiness.” The Commander said. “How long did it take to close up for action?”
“One minute forty seven.” Jane smiled. “New record.”
“We had plenty of motivation.”
Unable to sit still anymore April unfastened her belts and strode over to the plotting table, casting her eyes at the brightly coloured images displayed there. The two officers barely looked up to her and did not order her removed, with April took as blessing to continue.
“Are you sure this Chinese ship blew up the station?” She began asking, checking briefly to make sure Pete was still filming.
“It’s the only ship in the area, had to be.” Mallory answered. “And it has motive.”
“Doesn’t help that she isn’t answering our hails.” Jane added. “Guilty conscience I reckon.”
“Ever the pessimist.” Mallory half smiled briefly. “But that doesn’t make you wrong.”
“Is it a powerful ship, this Chinese destroyer?”
“Relatively speaking.” The Commander nodded. “She wouldn’t be a match for a capital ship, or something like the Nashville, but against other Destroyers and Frigates, she’s just about the best in the business.”
“She can outrun us, out gun us, out last us and out manoeuvre us.” Jane listed. “You couldn’t have picked a worse ship to run into.”

 

[Harlock]

“She’s a hunter.” Mallory confirmed. “A predator of the void, every inch built for speed and power. They were designed specifically to hunt down stealth ships like us and tear them apart. Even if we were running silent those ships have an exceptional sensor array, from this distance she could probably pick us up anyway.”
April looked at the image of the Chinese ship, a slim catamaran design with two sharp hulls joined by a flat central construction in the middle. Each of the two side hulls held half the engines, reactors and weapons of the ship apiece with the central area containing most of the crew and sensor systems largely shielded by the bulk of the twin hulls on either side.
The design was characteristic of the Chinese navy which had come to favour multi hulled vessels as the staple of the fleet. Destroyers tended to be of this catamaran design while larger ships had adopted a trimaran profile. The latest Super Dreadnoughts had five hulls, a single large primary structure with four cruiser sized hulls attached at equal distances around it.
The Chinese believed it gave their ships superior agility, setting the engines further out from the centre of gravity compared to other Navies, and the secondary hulls offered extra protection to the sensitive areas nestled between them. On the negative side they tended to suffer from more stress and strain on their load bearing structures and massed more than their equivalents in foreign service, affecting their acceleration.

“They can’t be cheap.” The Reporter guessed correctly.
“Very expensive, but worth every penny.” Mallory informed. “To see a new one means the Chinese have authorised a fresh batch, that’s a serious investment of money. If I were American I’d be worried at the implication.”
“A big increase in the military budget?”
“Almost certainly, and its going on practical ships, not show pieces.” The Commander pointed out. “Not on fancy Dreadnoughts to enter into the next big wang measuring contest, these are workhorses that nobody outside the navy cares about. They’re building capability, not prestige.”
“So you’re telling me the only reason to build more ships like that is to fight a war?”
“Pretty much. They’re not grand enough for publicity, too expensive for commerce patrol, convoy escorts and stuff, way too powerful to waste on merc hunting. The only thing those ships can do is hunt down enemy warships, and believe me when I say you won’t find any other design of ship better at it.”
“So why send it out here just to destroy a civilian station?” April asked. “Why not send a weaker ship?”
“That’s a very good question.” Mallory nodded along. “Add that to our first question, why reveal herself to us, and we have a real puzzle.”

“I don’t like the way it’s shaping up.” April shared her concern. “What if it fires on us?”
“It can’t, we’re neutral.” Jane said.
“But what if it does?” April pressed.
“Then we die very fast.” She answered. “We can’t take on a ship that dangerous alone.”
“But they won’t fire, it would be an act of war against Europe.” Mallory spoke with a slight waver. “They wouldn’t risk it.”
“Not with the US about to start shooting at them, war on two fronts.” Jane agreed. “No way.”
Both of them were holding their breath, watching the Chinese ship move ever closer.
“They wouldn’t…” Jane tailed off. “Would they?”
“Only an act of war if somebody finds out, if there are witnesses.” April stated in dawning horror. “We’re on the far side of Saturn, nobody can see us!”
Jane and Mallory locked eyes, seeing in that moment exactly what was about to happen. It all fell effortlessly into place, one perfectly clear picture in all its terrible splendour.
“All engines, flank ahead!” Mallory suddenly bellowed, snapping the still bridge into sudden action. “Standby countermeasures, do not, I repeat, do not activate weapons! No provocation!”

There was a groaning noise as the secondary engines came online, pushing into the Frigate’s hull and compressing the metal frame enough to create the ghostly sound. April leaned into the acceleration, grabbing the desk to keep herself steady as the two commanding officers automatically shifted their own individual centre of balance to compensate for the brief moment of disorientation before the artificial gravity caught up.
“I should have seen it, any closer and she could have killed us in one salvo.” Mallory spat. “Range to target?”
“Fifty thousand kilometres!” Cheyo said. “Sir, she’s powering engines!”
“Coming after us.” Mallory noted coldly. “The game is afoot.”
“She’s adjusting course, computer predicts she’s still planning to intercept us.” The Sensor officer relayed.
“We can’t outrun her.” Mallory observed clinically. “And we can’t rely on stealth at this range. We need to hide.”
“The ice rings?” Jane asked.
“They’re our best chance.” He nodded. “They’ll scatter radar and blind visuals, we just have to hope we don’t leave a dust trail for them to follow, like foot prints in sand.”
“We’ll have to hit the rings at perfect relative speed.” Jane said. “That’ll be difficult, especially with that Chinese ship chasing us. Means we can’t burn the engines hard.”

“Why not?” April cut in. “Are you saying we can’t run away as fast as the engines will work?”
“If we open the throttles to full we have to decelerate too.” Mallory said. “Otherwise we’ll pass clean through the rings and emerge into open space on the far side. We have to enter the rings at the same speed they are rotating around Saturn, and at the same angle. If we do that we can slip right in and leave no trace we were ever there.”
“Unfortunately because we have to control our speed it means that Chinese ship will get a lot closer, we’re on a curved course, he’s following a straight line.” Jane added dismally. “It’s going to be very close, that Destroyer is going to be right on top of us when we hit the rings. Hard to slip away with him eyeballing us at point blank range.”
“We’ll have to drop a smokescreen.” Mallory decided. “Make some course changes at the last moment under cover, hope it’s enough.”
“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves here?” Pete chimed in. “I mean we don’t even know if they’re hostile yet!”

The image of the Chinese ship flickered, several bright silent flashes momentarily obscuring portions of the hull. April noted the display, almost instinctively knowing what the strange effect was.
“Did he just shoot his…”
“Gunfire! Incoming!” Cheyo screeched. “Port quarter, contact in forty seconds!”
“Evasive action!” Mallory shouted. “Sound collision alarms, brace for contact!”
The crew grabbed their seatbelts, crossing their arms over their chests as the engines built up for a massive burst of speed. Mallory and Jane didn’t have time to sit down, instead latching a belt on their suits to a metal rail around the edge of the table. It took two long heartbeats before April realised that not only was she not safe in a chair any longer, but she didn’t have a belt hook to connect to the table either.

“Commander!” She yelled plaintively, her eyes bulging in sudden fear. She inhaled to speak again, but it was far too late. The main engine blasted ions in a bright spike from the stern of the ship, joined by the four secondary thrusters clearing their throats in a cough of energy and particles. There were no restrictions on emergency power, no acceleration limits or count downs, the only concern was to move the ship and move it fast, throwing off the aim of an opponent. It took forty seconds for a rail gun round to travel the gulf between hunter and prey, but even a slight course alteration took time at the velocity the Amethyst was travelling at.
April was snapped off her feet and catapulted towards the left hand side of the ship. It was as if the world had suddenly turned on its side and downwards was now somewhere behind the very hard looking bulkhead she was about to become better acquainted with. She had only started to fall when she was suddenly stopped with a horrible jolt that snapped her head back like a rag doll. She couldn’t even scream, a frail whelp her only exultation as she forced her eyes down to see Mallory’s hand clenched around her belt. He held her there for a few seconds, a look of pure agony on his face until his grip slipped and April fell.
Given the sudden fear that had gripped her and the crush of the G forces, the darkness of unconsciousness was a welcome relief she happily embraced.

The Amethyst snapped its helm around hard, running on an automated evasive course, the crew too pinned in their seats to control it themselves. Her initial five G turn was joined by an eye watering ten G course correction, putting the ship forty miles away from its predicted location.
Mallory was pulled in another direction, dangling on his belt like a mountaineer suspended over a metal cavern before the ship stabilised and gravity brought him back to the deck, immediately sinking down to his knees.
“Medic! Here!” Jane called, gesturing for one of the bridge staff who quickly unbuckled and darted over.
“She’s firing again!” Cheyo warned.
“We’re not going to outmanoeuvre her.” Mallory spoke through gritted teeth, his right arm hanging limp by his side. “If we keep dodging we’re not going to make the ring.”
“Should we just burn for it?” Jane asked. “Hope they miss?”
“Minimum evasive action, bring electronic countermeasures online, disrupt their targeting.” He ordered, the medic arriving alongside him. “Make them fire blind!”

The deck tilted again, but less violently this time, the ship making only a minor course change. It was enough to unsteady Pete who was stumbling across the deck to help April, the female reporter lying in a heap at the side of the Conn.
“You’ve got a dislocated shoulder Commander.” The Medic said. “You shouldn’t have grabbed that reporter.”
“Better than letting her hit the wall at full speed.” He grimaced. “Can you fix it?”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“Just do it.”
“Okay.” The Medic took his arm in one hand and braced his shoulder with the other. “On the count of three, one…”
He didn’t bother finishing the count, snapping the arm back into its socket with a clean twist and push. It was a simple bit of field medicine, but went largely unappreciated by the patient.
“Fuck me!” he exclaimed. “What happened to counting!”
“You’re fine, I better see to the reporter.” The Medic said entirely businesslike before trotting off with no further comment.
“That looked painful.” Jane said in sympathy.
“No shit Sherlock.” Mallory answered in time honoured fashion, noting several rail gun rounds sailing past the tactical display of his ship. “To hell with this cat and mouse shit, he’s off the port quarter, we should be able to target him.”
Jane flickered a grin. “Give the word sir.”
“Mr Cross, take the gloves off!” He snarled in both anger and residual pain. “Give that fucker something to think about!”

“Aye sir!” Lieutenant Cross got to work, his five man team swiftly running through the prefire sequence for the Amethyst guns, bringing up rounds from the magazines, slamming them into breeches and rotating the turrets, all completely automatic.
“Firing solution plotted sir, Chinese ship is emitting heavy ECM, I can’t give you a solid lock Commander.”
“Best guess Mr Cross, fire a wide spread.” Mallory ordered. “Give them a taste of Grapeshot.”
The four twin turrets at the front of the Frigate turned around, pointing almost as far backwards as they could without hitting the ship itself. The Amethyst had her best weapons concentrated forward, not balanced front and back like most ships because she was never supposed to get into a fight like this. The only rear facing six barrelled anti drone autocannon, a weapon which would be next to useless against the Chinese vessel.
“Ready!” Cross announced. “Fire!”

The eight cannons slammed back on their rails, immensely powerful electromagnets cushioning the recoil as they launched their projectiles through space at a hundred kilometres a second. Even at that speed it took over thirty seconds for them to reach their target, ample time for the Chinese ship to make a minor course correction and avoid the shells.
Cross had predicted this, and ten seconds out each of the eight rounds burst open creating a cone of tiny metal balls that spread out to cover as much space as possible. Avoiding eight rounds was easy, but avoiding the curtain of several thousand smaller projectiles was all but impossible. Hundreds struck the Chinese Destroyer, unfortunately none of them had the mass to penetrate the thick hull. They bounced off with a series of plinks, scattered like gravel thrown up from a road as a heavy truck passes by. Against civilian ships the shower would have been lethal, but military vessels were immune to such small shots. Or at least most of them were.
“Canister rounds!” Cheyo called. “Submunitions inbound!”
“Great minds think alike.” Mallory grunted. “This is going to be painful.”
Jane tapped her headset for ship wide communications. “Damage teams, standby for micro hull breaches!”

Unable to unleash its weapons at point blank range and guarantee a kill the Chinese ship had been forced into its standard hunting tactics. The Chinese Commander knew as well as Mallory that the odds of hitting with a single shot at long range were tiny, and that it was better to shower an opponent with thousands of smaller rounds. Unlike Mallory however the Chinese officer was facing an opponent with only a fraction the armour of his own vessel, and while such small rounds were like water to the Destroyer, they were like a hail of razors to a Stealth ship.
Like the British gunners the Chinese set their rounds to explode at a preset location, the distance calculated to give the best balance of concentrating enough rounds to inflict significant damage and spreading them out enough to ensure the best chance of a hit. The canisters split in a glitter of debris, releasing the half centimetre balls on their deadly trajectory.

The angle of the Amethyst helped a lot, with most of the balls coming in on a shallow trajectory and either bouncing off the ship or digging themselves into the metal as they scraped along the side. Unfortunately plenty struck hard enough to punch through the relatively thin hull, cross the multiple layers of armour and cooling sleeves, and then pierce the inner hull too.
The Conn exploded in light as four separate consoles dissolved in a shower of white sparks, metre square sections of them blasted out as the Chinese ball bearings went clean through the room. Debris pinged off the inner walls, small fragments of sharp, hot metal clattering and sizzling to a stop across the decks and tables of the room. The pressure suits were good enough to stop most of the debris, but several crew had to bite their tongues as tiny steel spikes dug into their flesh with a hiss of boiling blood and fat.
Fortunately the Amethyst had a self sealing inner hull, one of the earliest inventions in space travel based on the same principles as self sealing fuel tanks that were standard in aviation. The walls of the inner hull sandwiched a tightly packed polymer, essentially a form of rubber that would instantly expand to cover any holes punched through it and was tight enough to largely maintain pressure within the ship. It wouldn’t work against bigger holes, but they prevented the scores of micro breeches from depressurising the Frigate and making life much harder for the crew.

“That was bracing.” Mallory brushed smouldering metal from the table. “He’s not going to need armour piercing rounds, if he hits us with enough of them we’ll die from a thousand bee stings.”
There was a slight rumble as the Amethyst returned fire. Cross was taking careful aim, using information on the enemy ships own incoming rounds to better predict the Chinese vessels location in the haze of electronic interference and visual glare. Once again the Chinese ship was showered by tiny steel balls and again it continued with its hull intact. Mallory knew he couldn’t hurt the Chinese ship directly, but while the hull was tough enough to soak up the hits the Chinese vessel was surmounted by an array of exposed and delicate sensor panels and communication masts. The ball bearings would be able to harm those systems, reducing the range and accuracy of the enemy sensor scans and giving the Amethyst a better chance of survival. Unfortunately it worked both ways, and the Frigate’s own arrays were sporting several holes punched through their delicate surfaces.
The ship rang again with a series of dings and plinks as Chinese rounds scattered across the hull, one ball piercing the plotting table inches from Mallory’s hand before vanishing through the floor leaving a small silver edged hole in its wake.

“This is starting to look bad for our health.” He complained. “How long?”
“At least fifteen minutes until the rings are dense enough to hide in.” Jane replied grimly. “That destroyer will be at less than ten thousand klicks by then, he’s gaining fast.”
“We need to slow him down, make him break off, even if just for a couple of minutes.” The Commander resolved. “Mr Cross, ready a nuclear fire order, three screening weapons and one tactical anti ship warhead.”
“Order confirmed sir, loading all tubes.”
At the bow of the ship recessed into the long conical hull four doors slid open without a sound, no puffs of frozen air or flakes of detritus to give away their status. Within four large missiles powered up, immensely powerful chemical engines granting them far superior acceleration to any manned vessel.
“Missiles ready!”
“Ripple fire, let them all go!” Mallory called. “Main guns, time on target, fire when ready!”

The four missiles fired one after another, blasting free in a massive pillar of fire and debris as the rocket motors choked into life, driving the long tubes through space at immense acceleration. They curved up and around the ship, sweeping over away from the arcs of the duelling guns and closing on the Chinese ship from different directions. The missiles had to be fast, they had to cover the distance before the Chinese point defences could adequately respond and given they were based around laser cannons it was extremely unlikely they’d make it in time. Mallory didn’t expect them to.
Halfway between combatants the first missile broke up and scattered a hundred low kiloton nuclear warheads into space. Normally they were used to intercept missile or drone swarms but the detonation of so many nukes also served to disrupt radar scans creating an area of haze on enemy screens, a haze which covered the remaining weapons.

It didn’t last long, and as the three remaining missiles penetrated the fading residue of the first they found their paths laced with laser fire, invisible bursts of photons that would melt through and destroy the vital innards of the weapons. Mallory had assigned three missiles to serve as screens, to detonate before reaching the target so that the final missile would have a chance to strike the Chinese ship directly. As an added piece of timing the Amethyst guns also spoke, showering thousands of ball bearings around the enemy vessel at the same moment as the third missile detonated and its final sibling burst through the radiation saturating the Chinese defences.
It didn’t work, the destroyer crew turning their main guns toward the final missile and blasting it with canister at point blank range, flaying the missile and turning it to thin metal strips that harmlessly clattered on the twin hulls. The munitions from the Amethyst ripped into the sensor and communication suites, tearing away several square yards of advanced electronics, but doing little to slow down the hunter.
“Counter fire, enemy missiles!” Cheyo called out. “Eight tracks!”
“Deal with it.” The Commander ordered.
The point defences responded, spitting explosive rounds and laser bursts into the path of the fast moving, wildly evading weapons. One by one they were destroyed, holed by the laser batteries or shattered by shrapnel from the chain guns. With no friendly disruption none of the Chinese missiles made it half way to their target, informing both ships that long range missile strikes were simply a nice way to waste a few million units of their respective currencies.

“We’ll try again when he’s closer, cut his reaction times.” Mallory grunted in annoyance.
“By the time he’s close enough for that sir he’ll probably be turning us into a sieve with his main guns.”
Mallory was forced to roll his eyes. “There is that.”
The room reverberated with the din of another hit, metal balls rattling around the interior of the ship like grit in a washing machine.
“This isn’t going well sir.” Jane stated the obvious. “It’s going to turn into a blender in here if he draws alongside.”
“We need to distract him.” Mallory said. “Make him blink.”
“Yes sir, but how?”
“Mines.”
“Mines.” Jane repeated. “Nuclear mines?”
“We have three ready to drop in the hangar bay.” Mallory said. “Big ones.”
“Going to be tough sir, timing it so those mines drift into his course unnoticed…”
She was cut off by another shriek of splitting metal, this time joined by a sudden gasp as one of the sensor ratings took a ball to the chest. Thankfully it had been slowed down enough by the hull to hit him like a bullet, it still caused a lot of damage but didn’t make him immediately explode as most projectiles fired at that speed would have.
“We don’t have time to come up with a better plan. Get them launched, manually!”
Jane winced. “Manually?”
“If we drop them using our launch rails that Destroyer will probably pick up the energy signature, damn things have eagle eyes. Crank them out by hand. Let inertia do the rest.”
“Aye aye sir.” Jane didn’t argue. “EVA team, Mr Broome, I’ve got a job for you.”


Away from the Conn the ship was a source of frenetic activity, damage control teams skittering through narrow corridors in sealed suits, most of them carrying medical kits or fire fighting gear. Heading one team was Chief Petty Officer Broome, the by the book NCO pausing as his headset fed through new orders from command.
He glanced around at his three man team, one of them using a glue gun to seal a larger than average hull breach while the other two sprayed foam over an electrical fire.
“You three! New orders!” He growled. “We’re going below, arses in gear!”
Purvis finished off sealing the breach, the gloopy brown mixture solidifying as it covered the torn metal gash in the wall and halted the hissing of escaping air. “No rest for us.”
“I thought Clapper’s team was covering the belly?” Price complained. “Why do we have to run down there?”
“Maybe they’re dead?” Carver guessed, receiving sharp looks. “Just saying.”
The three cooks bolted after Broome, the Chief not even looking over his shoulder, taking for granted the three ratings wouldn’t be fool enough to dawdle after he ordered them to do something. They descended two steep metal staircases, having to stop for a second on one as the ship made an emergency turn, very nearly throwing Carved head first down to the deck.
“Women drivers!” He snapped.

“Less talk!” Broome snarled back. “Make for the hangar, drop your gear at the door and check your seals!”
“We’re going outside?” Purvis winced. “In pressure suits?”
“We don’t have time to change into full EVA gear!” Broome led them on. “Don’t worry, we’re not leaving the bay, not unless you fuck up.”
The ship rolled again, making the four men stretch out for a handhold as the floor slid sideways toppling them off balance. The power systems hummed loudly as raw energy was fed from the reactors to the drive systems not far above their heads, the well protected conduits and reactors thankfully armoured enough to ignore the shower of micro munitions.
“Who knew space battles were so…” Purvis began but didn’t have time to finish, the entire corridor suddenly buzzing and pinging as a score of metal balls whizzed through, shattering lights in bright flashes and throwing the entire section into pitch blackness lit only by the orange snaps of passing super heated rounds and shrapnel.
Price yelled at the top of his lungs, his scream of frustration and helplessness lost in the deafening dings of the enemy fire. He ran out of breath, sucking in fresh air as the noise stopped.
“Will they stop sodding well doing that!”
“Only if we make them!” Broome activated an angled torch attached to the front of his suit, illuminating the dark and smoking corridor. “So let’s do it!”

He stormed away as Price and Carver picked themselves up from the ground where they had instinctively crouched, but Purvis did not.
“Hey, Purvy?” Price ran over. “Purvy!”
His pressure suit had been torn to pieces, ragged fabric hanging loose from a dozen holes. His head was obscured, the clear plastic hood over his head completely red with blood as if it had been simply filled with red paint. It was probably a mercy.
“He’s gone!” Carver grabbed Price. “Keep going!”
“He’s my mate!” Price snapped back. “What the fuck happened?”
“He’s dead, and if we don’t get moving we’ll be dead too! Come on!”
Price stood up, legs almost unfeeling. “He was stood right next to me.”
“Come on!” Carver bellowed again, snapping the young rating back to reality. “For fucks sake, come on!”

The inside of the ship was turning into a wreck, each impact releasing dozens of half centimetre balls into the innards of the ship, tearing jagged holes in walls and severing power lines and communication cables. Some of the small projectiles went clean through the ship, the friction of penetrating the hull causing them to glow white hot and sometimes ignite flammable material. There wasn’t much that could burn on a warship, but something usually did.
Other rounds did not make it out of the far side, instead bouncing off the walls within the vessel as frightful ricochets. They didn’t have the power to penetrate metal but could still cut through human beings without much effort inflicting deep trauma and fracturing bones.
Doctor Farrah and his two orderlies hadn’t stopped working, his medical overalls stained dark red from top to bottom as he patched up bodies and applied liquid bandages to torn crew members dragged into his sick bay. He felt no exhaustion, adrenalin and determination overcoming any concept of tiredness or physical weakness as he saved lives, completely ignoring the shrapnel that scattered around his ears and the raging fire across the corridor that was pouring smoke into the room.

Broome punched the airlock to the hangar without delay, the two remaining ratings crowding behind him.
“Purvis?”
Price shook his head, drawing a vehement curse from the Chief.
“Check seals.” He sealed the inner door. “Ready?”
“Ready.” His team confirmed.
Broome activated the controls and the air was sucked out of the room, moments later allowing the door to open. The bay was still in vacuum, some small ice crystals floating in the zero gravity and shifting back and forth as the ship made its evasive turns.
“Carver, get the door.” Broome ordered. “Don’t use the hoist, use the gravity locks!”
“Got it.”
“Price, up here.” He pointed to the roof. “Get these mines ready.”

Carver reached the door controls first, noting they were all still in good condition. There were two ways to open the large metal slabs covering the bay, one was an electrical engine that used magnetic fields to shift the portal, the other was a series of wires and pulleys attached to a counter weight in one of the gravity positive parts of the ship. It was ingeniously simple, and entirely effective. He pulled a single seven foot long lever, bracing against the wall, and released the catches holding the door shut. If there had been an atmosphere the noise would have been appalling as the pulleys yanked the doors apart. Fortunately it happened in total silence, and with no electronic emissions.
“Mines are in standby mode.” Price said. “They’ll be inactive until they receive instructions from the boss, virtually invisible.”
“Alright, lets get them out.” Broome released the locks holding them on their rails. “One at a time, slide them out.”
“Okay Chief.” Price locked his legs around the rails and placed his palms against the back of the first mine. “Ready.”
“Push!”


“Enemy now at twenty thousand clicks!” Cheyo bellowed her report. “Reading cluster missiles!”
“She’s trying to saturate us!” Jane advised in dismay. “Micro missiles!”
“Hold course and speed!” Mallory demanded. “Where are those mines?”
“Two clear, one left!”
“We have to get this right, no second chances!” Mallory laid down. “We fail, we die. Hold steady people, draw them in!”
Space burst into furious light between the Amethyst and the Chinese ship, hundreds of one inch rail rounds spat from the British ship, proximity fuses detonating near incoming missiles that were twisting and turning across the range. The defensive lasers were fully automatic, seeking targets, plotting them, prioritising and firing far faster than any human mind could direct. The invisible rays of light were triggering dozens of blasts, brief burning suns of igniting rocket fuel that marked the end of a Chinese missile strike.

Frantic as the defence was they still couldn’t stop the enemy guns, another salvo of white hot bearings piercing the by now mottled and uneven hull, scattered with sealed dents and round holes. This time a round seared across the conn, shattering a console and cutting across the legs of one of the gunners. The man at once burst into screaming swear words, both his shin bones shattered by the round with the meat around them torn ragged and splayed almost inside out.
The overworked bridge medic dragged him from his chair and jabbed a powerful painkiller into his arm, then hauled him to the centre of the conn, sweeping aside a cluster of metal and glass shards before laying him down and sealing his gruesome wounds with liquid bandages, the pink fluid hardening moments after leaving its dispenser creating a safe and secure covering.
Mallory couldn’t draw his eyes away for a long moment, captivated by the medic at work.
“Mr Cross, take his place.” He spoke absently. “Direct the guns personally.”

Cross leapt into the vacated chair, ignoring the splashed blood as he took over the targeting screen. The Chinese ship was still jamming them and the bombardment had shredded a lot of the Amethyst’s radar surfaces making it hard to get hard data on the enemy ships true position. He knew roughly where it was, allowed the computer make its best guess, than added a tiny adjustment based on where his instinct said the Chinese ship would evade towards. He closed his eyes and fired.
The guns rumbled, gusts of fire living briefly at the muzzles as air sucked in behind the shots as they were loaded burned away. The eight solid rounds burst free, magnetic shoes used to grip the inside of the barrel breaking off leaving a solid hundred ton dart lancing at the Chinese ship. They were designed purely to punch through armour, to rely on the force of their impact and the secondary effects of their passing to do damage. Given the amount of force such a round had the potential for destruction was immense.

The first salvoes missed, passing alongside the Chinese ship unnervingly close. The last salvo however, the final two rounds of the sequence were dead on target as much by luck as by design. One passed clean through the left hand side hull of the Destroyer, a gleam of molten metal showing where even the extra thick armour of the warship was no defence against these kind of weapons. The second hit was even more impressive, piercing the hull and travelling upward leaving a deep rent in its wake before punching clean through a gun turret from bottom to top. The armoured box exploded into bent metal plates, each weighing hundreds of tons and each thrown aside like paper. The two guns within the turret were bent like paperclips, launched into space in a jet of flame.
“A direct hit!” Cheyo squealed like a school girl in pure joy. “We knocked out a turret!”
The whole room burst into a cheer, Cross punching the air. “Get in there!”
“She’s venting atmosphere, looks like she’s leaking ions too! We cut a fuel line!”
“That’ll slow the bastard down!” Mallory grinned. “How long until we’re clear?”
“About four minutes sir!” Jane was smiling like a loon. “All three mines are deployed and drifting towards their target!”
“We still need to distract him, stay focused, he still has us by the curlies!”

The left side of the Chinese ship was alight, streams of air leaked from a dozen gaps forced open by the five inch round and ignited by electrical conduits that refused to power down. A single pillar of flame trailed back from the former gun turret, fragments of debris and soot clouding astern of the destroyer. Yet despite this damage the ship was far from finished. It was slowly spinning as the venting air acted to push the ship into a roll but did not act to slow it down or do much to divert its course. The damage to the engine feeds forced the Captain to reduce his acceleration, but by this point the Amethyst was already moving at a relative crawl as it sought to hide in the ice rings. It made little difference to him.
The destroyer spat a salvo of its own, its still vastly superior armament hurling dense sabot rounds at the struggling Frigate. They passed disturbingly close, one of then taking off the top of a communication mast.
“He’s got our range and bearing.” Mallory grimaced. “Mines?”
“Not yet sir, about a minute.” Jane said. “And another minute until we hit the denser parts of the ring.”
“Incoming!” Sensors warned. “Trajectory plot is right on us!”
At this range the shots took a mere seven seconds to impact, no time to evade. The boosted rounds the Destroyer fired having a much higher velocity than those of the Amethyst, and as a consequence more destructive power. The first salvo passed within a hundred yards, the second within ten.
Mallory saw the pattern, they all did, the whole conn holding its collective breath.
“Ah hell.”

The third salvo was a direct hit, two rounds hitting the Amethyst just forward of the mid point. One was a glancing shot, barely touching the hull but still leaving a metre deep gash across the top of the vessel splitting several cryo pipes and air feeds. The second shot was far more damaging, piercing the starboard hull with no hindrance adjacent to the habitat section and passing through the ship’s Gym before coring straight down through the officer’s quarters and small weapons armoury. A fire fighting team vanished in an instant, five crew members reduced to particles as the shot ripped past at a hundred miles per second. Even with the advanced alloys and gravitic strengthening the damage was catastrophic, the glowing hot bullet creating an expanding cone of destruction that gutted the entire section, folding bulkheads and ripping apart decks like a runaway train hitting a glass shop. By the time it exited the lower port side it had created a hole twenty metres wide and excavated over a thousand tons of mass from the ship, dumping it into space.

The entire ship rippled like jelly, shockwaves passing through the hull like a liquid, flexing every inch of the ship and bursting hundreds of welds, seams and pipes. The self sealing hull was able to cope with most, but the titanic wound in the port hull was completely beyond its scope, the side of the ship folded over like black petals of a razor sharp flower. The internal subdivisions kept the ship pressurised, but a mist of gas from the cryo sleeve that cooled the outer hull sprayed from hundreds of ruptured pipes.
Mallory was the first to get back up, the entire bridge crew dazed and shaken. It was utterly silent, and it wasn’t until a few seconds later he realised it was because he was deaf. By the time the silence began to be replaced by a ringing tingle he was on his feet and gripping the plotting table, eyes locked on the three electronic dots that were passing right in front of the Chinese ship. He didn’t say anything, it would have pointless anyway, he simply bypassed the controls from the dazed gunners and triggered the mines himself.

The nuclear weapons flashed briefly, there was no massive blast wave, no mushroom of fire, no pall of black smoke. Just a tiny brief flash as the casing was vaporised. It looked entirely pointless, but as with most things in space it was the invisible effects that counted. The mines weren’t close enough to contact the hull, with both ships making evasive turns it was a miracle they came within the few miles they did. Their effects were therefore much less spectacular than a direct hit would be, but they still performed their task.
The Chinese ship was bombarded by radiation, the forward hulls flexing and buckling as a storm of X-rays barraged the surface vaporising a small portion of the outer armour and further splitting weak points around welds and seams. The vaporisation of the outer surfaces caused the hull plates to flex and cracks, dislodging lumps of misshapen material from the inside surfaces and tossing it into the destroyer with great force, smashing corridors and any unfortunates in their path. Additional power lines were severed, gun hoists failed and the structural weakpoints between the three basic parts of the catamaran were put under significant stress. Despite all this, the ship did not die.

It was however thrown off course, the ejected vapour from the damaged armour plates acting as unwanted thrusters spinning and pushing the ship away from the Amethyst. She hadn’t been travelling fast enough for the sudden change to have killed the crew and torn apart the ship, but it did cause significant internal damage and injured most of the personnel onboard, at least temporarily, and that was all that counted. As an added bonus it blinded the Chinese sensors making the Amethyst’s final course and speed a mystery, which in turn would make it virtually impossible to track.
The battered Frigate slipped between the ice clusters and dust clouds on automatic pilot, its venting gas shut down before it vanished into hiding, limping silently away and cutting its engines to appear as nothing more than empty space to scans.

Inside Mallory stood motionless, too professional to show weariness and too tired to do anything else. He caught sight of Peter in a corner, shielding April with his own body rocking back and forth oblivious to the fact the battle was over. He’d completely forgotten about the two civilians, he didn’t even know when Pete had stopped recording.
He let the crew recover at their own pace, not pushing them, not saying a word. He wasn’t sure he could even form words, he just waited patiently and tried to gauge his hearing, immensely relieved when it began to return.
They had a lot to do, a hell of a lot, but before all that everyone on the Amethyst had one simple truth to embrace.
They were, at least, alive.

 

[Harlock]

8

Within the rings of Saturn.


“I can condense our situation into one word.” Chief Engineer Kendle addressed the cluster of officers. “Buggered.”
“That your technical assessment Chief?” Jane arched an eyebrow.
“It is.” He replied bluntly. “Would you prefer screwed? Rogered? Up shit creek without a paddle?”
“We get the picture Chief.” Mallory halted his little tirade. “Are we likely to be dead in the next few days?”
“Nah sir, not if we stay hidden away.” Kendle answered. “We’ve got plenty of reactant in the tanks and while the smoke from internal fires choked up the air recyclers my people are already fixing them. They’ll need replacing but not for a couple of months yet.”
“Food and drink stocks are fine, we lost a few containers but nothing dramatic.” Jane added. “We can stay out here for as long as we need to, at least as long as our original mission plan.”
“Gives us time at least.” The Commander acknowledged. “We’ll need it, we’re going to have to come up with the most cunning plan ever devised.”

They were squeezed into the Wardroom of the Amethyst, the senior officers and department chiefs summoned for this emergency meeting. They were all still in their pressure suits, and in the case of Chief Kendle still covered in black soot from fighting fires, streaks of skin visible underneath where trickles of sweat had thinned the black paste.
Most of them had superficial injuries, small cuts or bruises caused by shrapnel and metal splinters broken off from the inner hull and catapulted through the vessel after each impact. They wore the dirt and blood that stained their suits proudly, even April and Pete did so, marking them as people who had been sorely tested but had prevailed. Mallory had himself suffered from a mild concussion after the final Chinese salvo hammered the Amethyst and threw his head against the plotting table. Fortunately it was an easily treated injury, the floors of the sick bay and the corridor outside were stacked with those who had been less fortunate.
“We need to make it home.” Mallory stated. “That simple, so, where do we start?”

Kendle offered a shrug. “Physically we can make it.” He made the remark gruffly. “The engines are fine, we have the fuel and supplies, we could get as far as Earth if we had to.”
“I’d suggest Ruyter as our target. “Mallory suggested. “Fisher?”
“Space Fortress De Ruyter, main European facility near the asteroid belt.” The navigational officer clarified. “Closest base to our current position. We could try for Mars or even Jupiter, but Ruyter is the easiest.”
“Probably the most obvious too.” Jane said. “It’s not just a case of getting home, it’s getting home in one piece.”
“They’ll be expecting us to head there.” Cross agreed.
“I don’t think they will.” Mallory said confidently. “They’ll expect us to burn for Mars.”
“How can you be so sure sir?”
“Because to reach Ruyter we have to travel through the Chinese sector of the Asteroid belt.” He said innocently.

“You’re right sir, they wouldn’t expect it.” Jane agreed. “I can list several extremely good reasons why.”
“The Belt is huge, even if they spotted us its very unlikely they could scramble ships to our location.” The Commander stated firmly. “Especially with Ruyter so close. Last news we had before we left said the Second Fleet was conducting exercises in that area. If they make any moves to intercept us they’ll have a hundred more EU ships to worry about.”
“Assuming the base sees us coming.” Jane reminded. “Lot of jamming across the belt, even if we broadcast our presence on every channel it’ll be hard for them to spot us.”
“Probably counter productive, we’ll run silent.” Mallory confirmed. “Only announce ourselves when we are sure help is close. How are we for that Chief?”

“You mean can we run silent?” Kendle grimaced. “Going to be hard Commander, the outer hull is punched full of holes, large and small. Our biggest problem is our thermal signature, just the heat of living in a sealed can out here shows up like a Vicar in a gay bar. We hide this by pumping a cryo mix through a network of pipes between the inner and outer hulls, at least we would if we had a network of pipes anymore.”
“I assume those hits severed some of our piping?”
“Shredded would be a better word sir.” Kendle offered flatly. “It’s not just the pipes sir either, we lost a lot of cryo mix when they snapped, sprayed it out into space. We have a few spare tanks of the stuff but I’m going to have to dilute it down a lot to get an even covering of the ship. Going to make us easier to spot if someone is looking in the right place with the right quality thermal detector.”
“And that’s not counting the giant hole in the port side.” Jane added. “Twenty metres by fifteen metres, no hull plates, no cryo pipes, nothing. Just a giant gaping wound leaking heat into space.”

“We’ve sealed off bulkheads around the damaged sections.” Kendle informed. “But that hit did a damn good job of ripping our insides out. We only have two intact routes from the front of the ship to the back, the rest are either crushed flat or open to space in that section.”
“We lost half our living space, I’m having to assign off duty crew to sleep in cargo bays and corridors.” Jane sighed. “Not ideal, but we’ll manage.”
“We have a hole in the starboard side the size of your head, and one in the port side you can park a double decker bus in.” Kendle grimaced. “Nasty business, like an exit wound. The second shot from that salvo just scraped the hull, if it had hit us directly we’d probably have broken in half.”
“Meanwhile we hit that Chinese ship with two direct hits with the same calibre rounds and barely slowed it down.” Cross recalled. “The Admiralty was right, we can’t get into a stand up fight with a front line warship.”
“We’re not going to.” Mallory affirmed. “We work to our strengths, so what can we do about the hole? Can we patch it up?”

“There are some options.” Kendle considered. “The round took a lot of our insides with it, but not the outer hull. It peeled us open like a can but a lot of the metal is still attached, just bent back exposing our private bits.”
“Can we bend it back?”
“Probably, and then patch up some of the gaps.” Kendle said. “It won’t be airtight, but it should be pretty solid. If I can rework some structural supports too I’ll feel happier.”
“What about Cryo pipes? Do you have enough spare to cover the gap?” Mallory asked.
“Cover it, yes.” Kendle nodded. “But it’ll be a rush job sir, won’t hold up to close inspection.”
“I don’t think it has to.” Mallory said. “Our Chinese friend will be in no shape to conduct a comprehensive scan for us, not with half his sensor arrays shot away.”
“Just how bad did we hurt him?” Jane asked.

“Wait a second here,” An American accent interrupted. “What do you mean hurt?”
The room paused as April cleared her throat, her voice a little shaky and her right eye quite badly swollen, a souvenir of her brief but memorable impact with the side of the ship. The experience had clearly altered her perspective radically, her almost cocky attitude had suddenly become a lot more uncertain and quiet.
“I was too busy being unconscious for most of the fight, but didn’t someone say he was hit by three nukes?” She frowned, the habit forcing her to wince as the expression pulled on her injured eye. “Shouldn’t he be dead?”
“They didn’t detonate close enough to destroy him.” Mallory responded. “Out here you have to get pretty close for area weapons to be any good, even big ones like those mines. They hurt him, forced him to break off, but he’s still out there waiting to see what we do next.”

“I’ve been over the sensor logs.” Lieutenant Cheyo spoke in soft tones, precisely annunciating her report. “By my estimate the enemy vessel lost its starboard side forward turret, suffered damage to its starboard main engine feeds, and lost at least sixty percent of its main sensor and communication systems.”
“Stripped away by grapeshot.” Jane noted in satisfaction. “What about us?”
“Forty percent reduction.” Cheyo said. “It’ll be hard for us to cut through ECM at anything other than point blank range, but we still have our eyes and ears.”
“Communications were harder hit.” Lieutenant Thomas took over. “All eight of our long range masts were knocked out. I’d try to jury rig a replacement but the hardware was on the port side. Where the giant hole is.”

“So we can’t cut through the jamming.” Mallory guessed.
“Only at point blank range, twenty to thirty light seconds.” Thomas answered back. “At least for the blanket jamming, if a ship was actively jamming us we’d have no chance.”
“No calling for help then.” Jane said. “Might be for the best, with our luck we’d just attract the wrong sort of attention.”
“What damage do we estimate the nukes actually did?” Mallory asked.
“Nothing more than superficial damage, mainly to the forward hull.” Cheyo guessed. “There’s evidence of multiple small hull breaches but nothing catastrophic. I’d expect some crew casualties but not enough to render the ship ineffective.”
“Which brings me to my last question.” Mallory glanced across the assembled people. “Our casualties?”
“Nineteen dead, twenty three wounded.” Jane responded at once. “About six of the wounded are going to be in no condition to help us, they need a hospital. The rest should be able to return to duty over the next week or two.”
“About half the crew.” Mallory intoned.
“We can still man the ship, but we’ll have to rely on automation a bit more.” Jane reasoned. “Might be tough if we run into a fight, we lost a lot of damage control capacity.”

“It is obvious we need to avoid further combat.” Mallory began planning. “We’ve lost a lot of our stealth ability, but luckily for us our opponent has lost much of his search ability. How this balances out is going to be a gamble, if that Destroyer sees us its game over.”
“He’s still well armed, but if we hit his engine hard enough our Chinese acquaintance might be running slow.” Cross mentioned. “We might be able to outrun him.”
“I’d settle for a decent head start.” Mallory allowed. “Either way we need to get out of here without being spotted.”
“Even at full capacity that is a tough call.” Jane shook her head grimly. “When we move out we’ll be silhouetted against Saturn or its rings. They wouldn’t need a comprehensive sensor array, just a window.”
“Which means we have to bolt when he’s on the wrong side of the planet.” Mallory said. “And ensure we’re far enough away to avoid detection by the time his orbit brings him back around.”

“That’ll take careful timing.” Fisher informed. “Especially if we need to do it with minimal engine burns to avoid an ion trail.”
“We can sling shot, build up a little speed using the rings for cover.” Mallory worked out. “Providing we accelerate slowly, we’ll start as we’re making repairs.”
“We need to locate that destroyer again.” Cross added. “And make sure it doesn’t spot us in the process.”
“We can drop a sensor buoy.” Cheyo offered. “Let it drift out so it doesn’t reveal our location.”
“Probably the best idea.” Jane agreed. “We need to know where he is and what he’s doing.”
“We slingshot free and float to De Ruyter base.” Mallory finalised. “A three month journey in our current state, we can’t risk burning the engines for extra thrust.”
“We can make it.” Kendle nodded. “Be a little stale in here by the end, but life support will hold out.”
“If we can avoid running into any hostiles we should be home free.” Mallory straightened. “The odds are with us here, we’re a tiny ship in a great big space. For once it counts in our favour.”

April raised her hand. “I have one question no one else has asked?”
“Please, go ahead Miss Conroy.”
“Why did they fire on us?”
The officers looked around at each other. It was a damn good question. They had been so busy working to contain and improve upon their current circumstances they hadn’t paused to consider the larger picture.
“I mean we were a neutral ship in international space right?” She said in addition. “Why did they shoot?”
“Had to be the station.” Jane guessed. “They killed everyone there and didn’t want witnesses. Including us.”
“They would know we were missing though, this ship?”
“The Fleet wouldn’t declare us overdue for about two more months, assuming the jamming just made us unable to send a signal.” Mallory said. “Another two or three months to send a search team to follow our last known path by which time the Chinese could have collected every scrap of wreckage and thrown it into Saturn’s atmosphere never to be seen again.”
“Vanished without a trace.” Jane agreed. “No evidence, no smoking gun, just condolences on a tragic unexplained accident.”

“They almost got away with it.” The Commander growled. “But we survived, we ruined their little plan, and now we’ll ruin it further by getting home and spreading the word.”
“The Chinese have stepped well over the line.” Pete chimed in. “If this story gets out it’ll completely destroy any international sympathy for them.”
“Which could be very costly if they go to war with the Americans.” Jane mentioned with a nod. “Reason to take the risk of silencing us.”
“And ample reason to try again.” Mallory concluded. “We’ve been lucky so far, it could have been a lot worse. From now on I don’t want to rely on luck. We’re a stealth ship, this is the mission we were built for, the mission we are trained for. We slip through their net, head home in perfect silence, then drop the bombshell.”
He gave each officer a solid look of confidence, sharing his faith in their abilities and their devotion to the ship.
“There’s a reason we’re called the Silent Service. Return to your departments and bring me repair estimates by the end of the watch. Mr Muller, Miss Conroy, I’d like you to help in the galley. Double rations all week for all hands, they’ll be working up quite the appetite.”


A week later


April had thought working in the galley would probably be one of the easier tasks, certainly compared to the heavy manual work the enlisted crew were going to be performing. In a sense it was, but it still required a lot more effort than she expected especially with her rather limited experience of kitchens.
“You just keep stirring.” Pete advised. “Keep going until its sort of a paste, get rid of all those gritty bits.”
“It doesn’t have to be perfect.” She grunted, man handling a large wooden spoon around an equally oversized steel pot. “They’re Brits, what are they going to know about food?”
“That’s the spirit.” Pete patted her on the back. “Even in the face of adversity stereotypes will always see us through.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to do a good job.” April returned. “Just that I don’t want to have to work quite so hard. Is that wrong?”
“Obviously not in your world.” Pete gently mocked, sliding a tray of potatoes into a large oven.
She exhaled pertly. “Fine, I’ll stir. But when I have arms like a Russian Shot putter…”
“And here we have the second stereotype of the day…”
“I’m complaining, I am allowed to complain aren’t I? I do have your permission?”
“If you insist.” Pete returned. “It gives me something amusing to listen to, like talk Radio.”
“You know those call in shows are all fake, all set ups right?”
“Yeah I know.” The man nodded, then grinned. “Still damn funny.”

She grunted as she pushed the spoon through the mixture, not even entirely sure what was inhabiting the bottom of the pot. Cooking wasn’t her strongpoint, April’s regular diet consisting of heat packs that only required the buyer to tear the top off the wrapping, or restaurants where somebody else did the hard work.
“This ship does have ration packs.” She grumbled. “I helped the Quartermaster, I know for a fact they are down there in the bays.”
“The Commander wants his crew to heat a proper meal, not a re-heat.” Pete said. “Come on, those guys are putting this tin lady back together piece by piece, they deserve a full dinner.”
“I don’t deny that, I just…well, want someone else to do it.”
Pete grinned widely. “Same old April, boldly getting someone else to go where no man has gone before.”
“It just isn’t what I expected!” She retorted. “Peeling potatoes, stirring whatever this is, counting boxes. I’m better than this!”
“For the record, no, you’re not.”
Her mouth dropped open in sudden outrage. “What…?”
“Hate to break it to you, but right now nobody wants a Reporter, or a Camera Operator either. What they want is someone who can handle a plasma welder in zero gravity without hurling up every five seconds. The important people right now aren’t the talkers but the doers. We can’t fix the ship, or fight off another attack, or plot a safe course home. What we can do is cook, so keep stirring.”

She attacked the pot, black smoke almost fuming from her head. Pete could see her lips quivering as she mumbled angrily to herself, working out some of her considerable frustration on the task at hand.
“Look at it this way, where else would you be?” Pete suggested. “Your quarters are going to be half way to Neptune by now, no one has time for an interview, large parts of the ship are still leaking air, or have no heating, or have been turned into razor sharp forests of spiky death thanks to shrapnel. What else are you going to do?”
She looked up with a pout. “Brood!”
“Great, and while you do that in the cargo bay the rest of us will try to get us home.” Pete was becoming snappy.
“And look at your part in getting us home!” April waved a scornful hand at him. “Turning the pancakes over so they don’t burn on one side! Yeah, way to go Pete, strike a blow for right over wrong!”
“It keeps me busy, it gives me something to do!” He growled. “Stops me thinking about…” He exhaled.
April blinked. “About what?”
“About the fact we’re probably not going to make it back.” He admitted darkly. “And great, now I’m thinking about it. I need something to stir.”
“Wait, no, the Commander was confident we could make it.”
“Come on April, I know you’re a girl but think logically.”
“Hey.” She scowled at the slur. “We’ve got a plan, they said they could fix the ship.”
“For what good it’ll do.” Pete stated. “You were out for most of the fight, but I saw it unfold. We we’re lucky April, the only reason we are still alive is luck, nothing more.”
“But…but nukes…”
“Sure we got nukes, but what do you think they have?” Pete gestured towards a wall and space beyond. “They could have killed us with two shots, hell a fraction of a degree forward or back they could have killed us with one shot. Do you have any idea how close we came to dying out here? Any idea?”

April had known Pete a long time, and in that time he had always been composed, calm, and usually good humoured. He viewed the world distantly, not allowing himself to become entangled it the pettiness of humanity or become affected by the stories the two had seen in their times together and apart. To see him on the edge of a breakdown troubled April more deeply then any other moment in the journey so far. She had been scared before, but this event was really shaking the foundation of her world.
“That Destroyer had us cold, we ran and hit it with guns and missiles and everything, and it’s still out there. He hit us once and it was nearly game over!” Pete spat. “Now were utterly fucked up and we have to get from here to almost Mars with no help, no friends, and a bad guy still chasing us.”
He leaned against the side of the galley wall, casting his eyes tiredly to the floor.
“I want to believe were going to make it, but I can’t. I just can’t see how the hell we’re going to get home in this state.”

“There’s always a way, right?” April assured gently, leaving her stove to stand beside him, leaning on the same wall. “All we need is a few minutes to get clear of the planet, after that it’s just a case of staying quiet and sneaking home. Anyone can do that.”
He sighed. “This wasn’t on the plan.”
“Getting shot up in a war?” April mused. “No, I never wanted to be a war reporter. I panic too easily, and I hate loud noises.”
“We got ourselves into a real mess this time, worse than the Senate scandal.”
“At least our Fuhrer Carlos never tried to nuke us and throw our charred remains into deep space.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Whole different world isn’t it? Seems so far away.”
“Never really felt alone before.” Pete spoke in a whisper. “At least it didn’t bother me. But it’s pretty lonely now.”
“You’re not alone.”
“No, I’ve got some Chinese guys trying to shove a rail gun up my…”
April grabbed the back of his neck and rapidly locked lips, taking her time and feeling the tension in his features diminish as he accepted the gesture.
“I mean, you’re not alone.”

Pete straightened up a little, eyes both surprised and intrigued. He held a bemused expression for a while, then broke into a laugh.
“You almost had me then!” He beamed. “Good one, but we both know our relationship is professional.”
“Entirely.” April nodded in agreement.
“And we have standards.” He leaned in closer. “Very high standards.”
“Professional standards.”
“A reputation.”
“We have to be above any accusation.” She tilted her head back. “Make sure there’s no favouritism.”
“Exactly.” Pete took hold of her, pulling her closer. “Exactly right.”
“Because it would be very wrong, and jeopardise the future.”
“Yeah.” Pete said. “Unless of course we’re going to die.”
“Unless that.” She took a small step forward, pressing against her long time friend. “Wait a minute, I thought you were smitten with Jane?”
“Honestly, I was trying to make you jealous.”
“You snake!” She hissed. “Good job!”
“You still hurting after hitting that wall?” Pete frowned. “I don’t want to do any damage?”
“Do you see the words ‘Handle with Care’ stamped on my ass?”
“Dunno.” He grinned. “I better check.”
She grinned back. “I knew this was going to happen one day.”
“Believe me, it’s going to be more than one day.”

 

[Harlock]

Mallory chewed the Pancake, trying very hard to keep a pleasant expression on his face as Pete brought his lunch up to the Conn. It was a thoughtful gesture, the command staff were too busy to break off and head to the Ward room for a real meal so Pete brought each of them their food up, plates and cutlery included. Unfortunately his usual high standards had slipped.
“Thank you Mr Muller, this saves a lot of time.”
“Not a problem Commander.” He smiled back. “Least I could do.”
Jane shared a brief moment of eye contact with the Commander, exchanging a similar thought.
“You seem rather chipper Mr Muller, had a bit of good news?”
“Bit of good something.” Jane muttered with a small smile.
“Just enthusiastic about getting out of here.” Pete answered. “Ready to go home.”
“In a rush to leave?” Mallory wondered with amusement. “Got plans?”
“Well I guess I kinda do have plans now.” He chirped. “How’s the food, not too overdone right?”
“Just fine.” He inwardly congratulated himself on a smooth lie.
“I got a little side tracked, three or four times, as I was handling the kitchen.”
“Something come up did it?” Jane said seriously, her raised eyebrow telling a different story. “Bit of a juggling act in the galley?”

“I guess I’m learning to multi task.”
“If we’re quite finished turning my control room into a scene from a bawdy comedy, I need a status report XO.” Mallory announced. “We’ll let Mr Muller get back to the galley for more…cooking.”
“It really takes my mind off the situation, works a charm.” He grinned. “I’d recommend, err, cooking to anyone.”
Jane glanced at the roof. “Well…”
“Status report XO.” Mallory reminded promptly. “Before we forget where we are.”
“Yes sir.” Jane nodded. “Fortunately some of us have other ways of keeping busy.”
“Very fortunate.” Mallory cleared his throat gruffly. “Try not to overdue the spice in your recipes Mr Muller, You still have an important job to do.”
“Not a problem Commander, I got everything under control.” He beamed and headed away with a definite spring in his step.
“Glad to see someone’s cheerful.” Mallory half rolled his eyes. “Do we have a reason to be happy XO? A different reason I hasten to add.”

Jane tapped a few buttons on the plotting map bringing up a list of details, the words scrolling in thin air. Each was a log entry made by a repair team reporting that one or another part of the ship had been fixed. The sheer length of the list spoke volumes about the beating the Amethyst had taken just under a week ago, and about the diligence of the understrength crew which had put her back together again.
“We’re almost done, just connecting the last of the cryo tubes on the starboard side.”
Mallory activated his head set, dropping a small curved curtain of light down from his brow to his nose, a holographic projection of the ships visual sensors. Through it he examined the outside of his ship, gazing over the cuts, holes and lacerations that had marred the smooth and slender form of the Frigate.

The biggest rent in the hull had been fixed thanks to the expertise of Chief Engineer Kendle and the Spacewalk skill of Chief Petty Officer Broome and his team. The peeled metal and curved leaf like strips of hull bent aside by the passage of the Chinese round had been cut away and reattached back over the hole. It was a pretty rough fit, without construction drones they couldn’t smooth over the most twisted parts and there were several large gaps where hundreds of tons of metal had just vanished. As a hasty fix Kendle had stripped out the ruined decks behind the broken hull and welded them over any remaining gaps to present a vaguely solid surface and prevent the ship snagging any debris on the way out of the rings, debris that could fall away and leave a trail betraying the Amethyst’s course.
It wasn’t pretty and the area behind the fixed hull segment was still depressurised and unheated, being too ripped up for human habitation anyway, but it would hold until they made it home and let some unlucky ship yard foreman try to sift through the pieces and restore the ship to its full glory.
“I’m moderately impressed.” The Commander concluded, restoring his headset to standby mode. “This might actually work.”

“Our load bearing structures and gravitic systems have also been repaired, they were the main job.” Jane said. “We haven’t tested them, can’t risk something going wrong and giving us away here.”
“Naturally.” He concurred. “We’ll take the risk, and if they fail I’m sure we’ll be too busy panicking to go downstairs and kick Kendle out of an airlock.”
“Oh I don’t know sir, I might find the time.” Jane mentioned with clear relish.
“I keep meaning to ask what is it with you two?” Mallory pondered. “Is there some rivalry?”
“Not exactly.” She hesitated. “I’ll tell you later sir, assuming we survive.”
“An answer to the riddle eh? Well it’s worth surviving just to hear that.”
“For some of us sir.”
He laughed under his breath. “Now, from one puzzle to another. We need to take a look around out there, see if our dragon is still outside. Is Broome in position?”
“Yes sir, he’s ready to launch the sensor buoy now.”
“Make it happen.” Mallory nodded. “See if we can find the hound to our fox.”


A couple of decks up in the superstructure an ancient looking telephone buzzed in the ready room, the gloved hand of Chief Broome reaching over to awkwardly pick it up.
“EVA Team.” He announced, waiting for the orders. “Understood, we’ll go now.”
He grabbed a helmet from one of the lockers and handed it too his colleague, then acquired a second one for himself.
“Come on Carver, time to go walkabout.”
The rating grasped the helmet with a look of trepidation affixed to his face. “Did I mention I don’t really like space walking?”
“No, don’t think so.”
“Well I don’t like spacewalking.”
“Hmm.” Broome considered. “Boo hoo. Put your hat on.”
“Don’t you have some sort of elite EVA team for this?”
“They’re busy, so I have to use whichever ponce happens to be standing closest to me. Congratulations.”

“I hate going into space.” Will Carver crammed the helmet on, pausing while Broome checked his seals. “Really.”
“Ever think that, with your dislike of space, joining the Navy was a bad career choice?”
“I’m not in space.” Carver replied, returning the favour and making sure Broome’s suit was secure. “I’m in a ship, big difference.”
“Good point.” The Chief stepped back. “Ready for this?”
“As I’ll ever be.” He sighed. “Internal comms check, power check, oxygen at…oh, ten percent.”
“We didn’t have time to fill them up after the last bout of welding.” Broome shrugged. “But don’t worry, we won’t be out long. Plenty of air for our job.”
Broome led carver out of the locker room and down the short corridor to the airlock, cranking open the door and stepping in. The unarmoured superstructure of the Amethyst had suffered a lot of damage in the fight from shrapnel but with no vital systems within its condition was largely ignored. The elegant observation room was now a hollowed out shell, split open and torn apart by hundreds of small impacts, but it didn’t matter. A nice view wasn’t vital to their survival.
“Cycling door.” He reported, activating the controls that sucked the air out into a compression chamber to be used again later. “And we have vacuum. Popping outer hatch.”

He opened the door by hand again, turning the circular handle in its centre and withdrawing the bolts holding it secure. With a push it swung slowly open, clearing the way out.
“Remember your lifeline.” Broome warned, attaching a cord to his belt from a winch above the door. “Don’t want you floating off.”
Carver carefully attached the hook and clipped it securely in place. If he lost his grip the winch would reel him in like a fish on a line, undignified but better than the alternative.
“Ready.”
“Alright, follow me topside.”
Carver swallowed his nerves and reminded himself of the position he and his shipmates were in. They all had to do their part, even if they didn’t like it, and Carver wasn’t going to let the side down. He wasn’t happy with the vastness of space, with the fact that there was nothing between him and infinity once he left the safety of the ship. He feared falling forever, of a lonely end in that greatness with no one ever likely to find him ever again. Whole ships vanished into nothingness without a trace, what chance did he have?
All these thoughts and more he struggled with, right up until he nervously stepped over the door frame and onto the hull itself. He had been looking at his feet, watching with great trepidation his every step, but in that moment he looked up and suddenly every single thought in his head vanished as if snatched away by a sudden gust of cold wind.
The scene before his eyes was like nothing he could imagine, like nothing anyone who hadn’t seen it first hand could ever understand. It was an image few humans had ever had the privilege to witness, and by setting foot outside the confines of his vessel he had unwittingly given himself the most spectacular moment of his life.

The Amethyst was bathed in light, a rich textured orange and yellow glow as the far distant sunlight filtered through pockets of dust and gas caught in Saturn’s gravity. Lumps of ice, some in knobbly boulders, others appearing like enormous jagged snowflakes floated gently past in their thousands, tens of thousands perhaps. Most were grey, a consequence of dust freezing within the ice, but there were some that captured every colour of the rainbow and danced with sparkling light as they tumbled around the planet. Some others were clear, refracting light in the manner of a prism and scattering bright coloured beams across his vision like some cosmic pop concert.
Mallory had hidden the ship within one of the denser areas of gas and ice deep within the planetary rings, dense enough to provide shelter from detection but as a side effect also generate this utterly mind blowing visual feast. The clouds of gas and dust largely remained the same rich colour, but even as Carver watched he could see patches of blue or green drifting across the vista where other types of molecule filtered light differently. Ice particles sparkled like stars, glittering across the depth of the rings between the larger rocks Amethyst was hiding near.

It was so unexpected, so out of place, to have lived on the edge of death and fear and then suddenly to be presented with this snapshot of majesty, it simply took the breath from the young sailor. To crown it all, looming beyond the tableau of clouds was Saturn itself, the soft edged ball half illuminated by the sun, half left in utter and complete blackness as if it just didn’t exist outside the reach of the sun. Its streaked atmosphere looking like oil spilled in dirty water.
There was nothing like this anywhere else in the entire system, nothing, and as he watched sunbeams lance through a thin spot in the passing dust clouds creating the most amazing rainbow ever recorded by human eyes, Carver knew he would never see anything this mesmerising ever again.
“Not bad a view is it?” Broome said with a smile in his voice. “But we need to get to work, air is wasting.”
“Of course Chief.” He answered absently, burning the image onto his memory before finally closing his eyes in a moment of abject peace, then placing one magnetised foot ahead of the other and following his superior.

“We need to go higher, on top of the superstructure.” Broome directed. “We could float up, but I think it’s better just to take the ladder, don’t want you missing your hand holds do we?”
“No argument here Chief.”
“Watch those ice lumps.” Broome added a warning. “They’ll bounce off the hull harmlessly, but if one catches us it’s a different story.”
They left the airlock and headed forward along the upper hull of the ship. There was a handrail which helped them in their journey, though it had been severed at frequent points by enemy fire limiting its utility. To their right the superstructure towered above them, ragged and ripped while to their left there was nothing but warm light and Saturn far in the back ground.
“Here’s the ladder.” Broome reported. “Only two decks, up we go.”

They slowly and somewhat clumsily made their way up the side of the ship, the more experienced Broome making it look rather easy. Carver resisted the urge to lean over and touch some of the holes in the ship, sharp edged triangles hanging bent over from the smooth planar surfaces of the hull. They passed by the shattered observation room, peering in at the mess on the way up before reaching the top of the ladder and emerging next to the main gun director.
The director was an armoured boxy structure containing the targeting sensors for the Amethysts rail guns. Its relatively small and well protected sensor aperture meant that it had survived the fight almost entirely intact but it was too limited to collect comprehensive data for the ship’s sensor station. The main sensor arrays were mounted higher up on a series of masts exposed to space for maximum coverage. Unfortunately that exposure had made them extremely vulnerable to an enemy.
“What a mess.” Carver winced, the main mast standing in silhouette against the orange and brown clouds above. The ship had four masts located on the top, bottom, port and starboard of the ship each one bristling with antenna and dishes. At the base of each was a solid phased array panel for all round scanning appearing as a small pyramid with receivers on each face. Those faces were now cracked and punched through with holes, while the masts and antennae extending high above them were bent, twisted or truncated. The masts now looked like trees in winter, skeletal and crooked.
“No surprise our sensor range has been cut down.” Broome craned his neck. “Quite a tangle.”
“I suppose they’ll have to replace it when we get back.”
“Another half a billion quid for the taxpayer.” Broome grunted a laugh. “Expensive business, blowing each other up.”
“Yeah.” He had a brief memory of his friend Mike Purvis, energetic and fervent one second, torn and bloody the next. He had to work hard to maintain some composure.
“The Buoy is a bit further back.” Broome coaxed him on. “Let’s get it done.”

Carver took a look over his shoulder, drinking in a clear view of the forward part of the warship. There were still several others out here with them, their white spacesuits standing out clear against the dark hull. They were sealing the last of the major points of damage, frequent glows and sparks showing their tools at work. Beside the gaping hole in the side there was also the deep groove in the upper deck carved out by the passage of the other Chinese round that struck them. It hadn’t penetrated the inner hull, much to everyone’s relief, but had caused enough damage to compromise the stealth system and therefore warrant attention. The dark hull was spotted with paler areas of silver welds and duller grey plates torn from the wrecked inner decks and slapped on the outside of the ship as a temporary measure. It wasn’t pretty but it seemed to be working.

“Here it is.” Broome called over. “Come give me a hand.”
The Chief was stood next to a tube some ten feet high and two feet wide. At the top was a sphere some four feet across looking entirely unremarkable.
“The launch system was damaged so they can’t work it from inside.” Broome told Carver as he walked up. “So we’ll do it from here.”
“Won’t that be dangerous?” Carver asked. “I mean, won’t there be backblast?”
“Nah, not from this thing.” Broome gestured him over. “It doesn’t have a rocket engine, someone could detect the exhaust couldn’t they? Same reason why it doesn’t use electromagnets or compressed gas.”
“So what does it use?”
“A big spring.” Broome grinned. “Yeah, really. Gets it off the ship and with no gravity out here it just keep going until it reaches the end of its tether.”
He grabbed a large lever attached to the tube. “Come give me hand.”
Carver carefully balanced himself so he didn’t float away when he exerted pressure on the lever and waited on Broome.
“And, push!”
Carver put his weight behind it while Broome tugged, gradually releasing the catch holding the large spring back. It suddenly gave way, unbalancing the two men for a moment as the catch released. Above them the sphere was launched trailing a rectangular tail behind it followed by a thick cable unwinding from inside the tube.
“Our work here is done.” Broome clapped his hands together. “Let’s get out of here before they ask us to reel it back in.”

The buoy floated slowly up and away from the ship, remaining attached by its unwinding tether which gradually slowed the rate of ascent until finally it brought the spherical device to a halt two hundred miles above the Amethyst. Once it stopped the tail behind the sphere split in half, one sided rising to point left and the other right, extending long metal fingers out into space. Those fingers branched into other fingers creating a metal weave similar to palm fronds reaching out from both sides of the sphere soaking up data from the local area and feeding it down the tether to the warship.
“Buoy is online.” Cheyo finally managed to make her announcement. “Computer is compiling a map of local space.”
“About time.” Mallory grumbled. “Hard playing hide and seek when you’re blindfolded.”
“Blindfolded, beaten with a stick and then pushed down some stairs.” Jane expanded. “Can’t say our old girl is looking her best.”
“But she’s still in the game, and that is what matters.” The Commander waited for the information. “We can have a make over when we get home. Bit of nip and tuck.”
“Something to look forward to.” She glanced at the plotting table. “Here we go.”

A map of the area appeared in three dimensions, the Amethyst in the centre. Saturn and the rings dominated the image, or at least as much of Saturn as could be seen, the far side was currently a mystery. Also marked were one or two other points of interest, small anomalies the sensor clinically analysed and categorised.
“There’s the remains of the station.” Jane pointed. “I thought we’d be further away than that.”
“It’s in a synchronous orbit with the rings, just like us.” Mallory said. “This part of the ring anyway, lot of shifting about up here.”
“Some debris there, either from us or the Chinese ship.” She checked the other flagged contacts. “And some residual radiation from our nukes.”
“That’s where we entered the rings.” Mallory watched the image. “And those nukes represent the last known position of the Destroyer. So where is he now?”
“The blast hid him from our sensors as effectively as it hid us from his.” Jane thought aloud. “We don’t know his last course or speed.”
“The nukes must have shoved him off course, or else he’d have crashed into us soon after.” Mallory observed. “We can make a guess where he went, but that was pushing a week ago. Plenty of time to double back.”
“No sign of him right now.” Jane folded her arms. “If he’s up there he’s gone quiet.”
“He’s up there.” Mallory said. “I can feel it, just waiting for us to make a move.”

Jane looked across the lit up table at him, the glow of the hologram lighting both their faces in pale colour.
“We’re going to have to do something. We can’t stay here.”
“Agreed, we just have to make sure that once we do run for it we don’t blunder into an ambush.”
“You don’t think he’s withdrawn for repairs?”
“No, we didn’t hit him that hard.” Mallory considered. “He’s probably in the rings like us.”
“Could be anywhere.”
“Could be.” The Commander agreed. “And we need to find him. Look for ion trails, ice crystals from leaking hull splits, carbon from internal fires, bodies even. Anything that could show us a trail of breadcrumbs leading to our little friend.”
“It’ll take a while.”
“Patience is something we have a lot of.” Mallory dismissed. “Miss Cheyo, what about the big picture?”

“Still no word from home sir.” She reported. “Jamming hasn’t gone away.”
“And no way to talk back anyway, especially with half our comms shot away.” Jane added quietly.
“How about the Nashville?”
“Still heading this way, but she’s decelerating hard.”
“Decelerating?” Jane frowned. “Why start to brake so early?”
“Chinese.” Mallory reasoned. “That second Chinese force still out there?”
“Yes sir, they’re slowing too.” Cheyo said. “They’ll intercept the Nashville in a few days.”
“Not far from our position.” Jane noted. “If we set off soon we could get there in time.”
“Not much we can do in our present condition.” Mallory grimaced. “Especially if that is a Chinese Heavy cruiser in that ECM bubble.”
“Lantree seems to favour his chances, he isn’t trying to run.” Jane regarded the details. “He’s slowing so he can try and outmanoeuvre the enemy ship, he might make it too, those cruisers are pretty handy.”
“Perhaps, but if he doesn’t we have to avoid those Chinese ships too.” Mallory noted. “They probably have the same orders as the Destroyer out here, we’ll sneak past.”

“Sensors don’t have any concrete trails.” Jane shook her head. “We’re not going to know where that destroyer went until he shows up again.”
“Perhaps we can sneak past him, if he’s in the rings his own sensors will be hampered too.” “Mallory considered. “We can mask our initial burn, we wouldn’t be vulnerable for long.”
“Commander, one moment.” Cheyo raised her voice. “I think I have something, in the rings.”
“What is it?” Mallory looked over. “Our Chinese friend?”
“Might be, it’s a channel in the gas and ice, a path something has cleared by flying through.”
“The exact thing we worked so hard to avoid.” Mallory grinned. “He hit the rings too fast, scattered the terrain.”
“Footprints in the snow.” Jane nodded.
“I’m tracking the channel, looking for the end.” Cheyo stated. “Standby.”

Each of them waited in a mix of enforced patience and bubbling excitement, in equal parts apprehensive and eager to know where their enemy was. The sensor images downloaded terribly slowly, the visual systems on the buoy photographing the channel.
“I think I have it, sir, its very close, two hundred thousand kilometres.”
“Damn close.” Mallory grimaced. “If we tried to run at that range we’d be dead in a minute.”
The image loaded, showing the dust and ice of the ring with a blurred object at the front of the channel. It didn’t look quite right.
“Can you enhance that Lieutenant?”
“Yes sir.” She replied. “I’ll have to computer filter away some of the background.”
He watched as the mass began to resolve, but to his eyes still didn’t look like a ship.
“What is that?” Jane squinted. “Looks too big to be a ship, micro moon?”
“Not sure.”
“I’m combining the image with thermal data.” Cheyo responded. “That should do it.”
The image finally resolved, the murky shape separating into a computer enhanced picture of multiple individuals. It wasn’t a single vessel making the channel in the rings, but dozens, some of them were gigantic beasts over a mile long massing tens of millions of tons.
“Are those battleships?” Jane looked at the biggest shapes. “Oh shit, they are.”
“Chinese Dreadnoughts, right behind us.” Mallory expressed more clearly. “And getting closer by the hour.”
A series of gasps and nervous exhalations went around the conn as the officers and crew saw the image unfold, realising what it meant to their chances of survival.
“Well ladies and gentlemen.” Mallory glanced around. “Seems we have a bit of a problem.”

 

[Harlock]

9

Within the Rings of Saturn.



“A Chinese combat fleet, and not a small one either.” Jane addressed the gathered officers. “Based around three Dreadnoughts, five battleships and fourteen cruisers. Add to that about sixty escorts and you can see we have a bit of trouble on the way.”
The ward room was utterly silent, Pete and April included.
“They are roughly in the same orbital plane as us.” Mallory continued. “Behind us moving slightly faster. Because they are out of synch with the rotation of the rings they have left a faint trail we could detect. The unhappy news is it means they are catching us up, and will eventually overtake us. I don’t need to tell you that will be a bad thing.”
“If the stumble onto us that’s it right?” April asked. “They just shoot us, no question?”
“Based on our last encounter, almost certainly.”

“Can we dodge them?” Pete asked, “move out of the way?”
“We can try, but burning the engines at this distance is risky.” Jane said. “Plus we’ll leave our own trail in the dust cloud, if they’re looking for us there’s a very good chance they’ll spot the anomaly.”
“And you can be sure they’re looking.” Mallory concurred. “Our little run in with that destroyer won’t have been ignored.”
“So what are we going to do?” April searched for an answer.
“Same thing we were planning at the start, we break for home.” Mallory said. “Only change now is that our schedule is rather shorter.”
“How much shorter?”
“Five hours.”
“Five hours shorter or…”
“Five hours total.” He clarified. “Essentially we go now or we don’t go at all.”

It was not news April wanted to hear, but as she looked around the rest of the officers seemed grimly resigned to it.
“We can do it.” Kendle nodded firmly. “We’re ready sir, just give the order.”
“I’m going to need a lot from the engines, we can’t risk a long burn, the longer we run the engines the bigger the chance they can track us.” Mallory said. “One short intense burst, enough to kick us out of orbit and give us enough momentum to send us clear to the belt.”
“You’ll have it Commander, engines and gravity systems are fully operational.”
“There is a chance the hull might fold in two.” Jane cautioned, receiving apprehensive looks from her colleagues. “A very small chance…”

“We’ll take it.” Mallory set down. “With the G forces involved in this escape we’ll need to handle this on auto pilot, are the computers intact?”
“Yes sir.” Navigator Fisher nodded. “They took virtually no damage in the attack, I was pleasantly surprised.”
“Lets hope the surprise doesn’t turn unpleasant.” He raised an eyebrow briefly. “By my reckoning we have four hours until our optimum escape vector shows up, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“So that ladies and gentlemen is our window. If we miss it for whatever reason, we’re finished. No second chances, no plan B.”
“This is going to be a full power burn.” Jane continued. “It’ll show up on every scanner within line of sight, including the Chinese fleet. It won’t be subtle and there’s nothing we can do to hide it.”
“At this sort of range they’ll be able to fire accurately.” Cross warned. “We won’t get more than a few seconds before they are on us.”
“And we’re going to be very easy to track.” Cheyo mentioned. “Even if we cut engines it’ll leave a hell of an ion trail, like a big glowing arrow pointing at where we are.”

“That’s the other reason why we have to go soon.” Mallory nodded. “Our escape vector is designed to put us on course for Mars, anyone tracking our ion trail alone will assume that is where we are heading. However on our way out we’re going to pass extremely close to one of Saturn’s moons, Mimas.”
“The moon doesn’t have much gravity, and we’ll be moving too fast to really exploit it, so we can’t slingshot.” Jane picked up. “But we can use it to effectively bend our course by a few degrees.”
“It won’t be much but it will throw the hunters off our tail.” Mallory concluded. “If we approach at the right angle the moon will drag us about and set us up directly for De Ruyter, while our ion trail points at Mars.”
“Assuming they don’t guess we’ll use the moon.” April raised a concern. “Using gravity wells to alter course is a well known tactic I gather?”

“It’s well known, but there are a lot of variables, and given the amount of space they have to search if they are wrong by even a tiny fraction of a degree it would send them millions of miles from us.” Jane answered.
“We should also remember the Chinese are trying to hide this fleet, if they start blasting away and chasing us they’ll become visible to long range scans. There is a very good chance they won’t chase us, at least not the bulk of the forces.”
“I can’t see them just letting us go though.” Pete said. “Not after all this.”
“I agree.” The Commander concurred. “But they won’t send heavy ships after us, probably just Destroyers and a limited number at that. All we need to do is escape and evade, exactly the sort of mission we are trained and equipped for.”

April could feel a sense of growing confidence breaking through the apprehension in the officers. They all knew it was a dire situation but now at least they had something concrete to refer to, a plan which required the utmost from them. Difficult as it would be they now understood what was required of them and were accepting the challenge. The board was set.
“The Chinese have apparently gone to great lengths to keep this fleet secret.” Commander Mallory remarked. “Now we can use that secrecy against them.”
“At least it begins to explain why they hit the Science Station.” Pete surmised. “They would have spotted the disturbances and raised the alarm.”
“And why they fired on us.” April figured. “Must have been a really big secret to take that sort of risk over.”
“They managed to move a full combat group out here without anybody noticing.” Mallory said. “There isn’t another fleet of this power beyond the Belt, they can pretty much do what they want out here. This fleet can dominate the outer system, or attack the inner worlds from a completely unexpected direction. Could be a major advantage in the expected war.”
“Enough to kill for.” Jane grunted. “Murder for.”

“How did they get them out here?” Pete asked. “Can’t we detect regular ships at extreme long range?”
“They must have hidden behind jamming.” Cheyo offered. “If a squadron of ships flies close together under an Electronic Warfare Umbrella we can’t tell how many there in that group exactly, we have to count ion trails. If one or two ships are being towed by the others to hide their exhausts, that would mess up our predictions. We’d have to spot them visually behind the glare meaning we’d have to get within half an AU or so.”
“And out here with so few ships there’s nobody to get that close to see them.” Mallory reasoned. “They must have been doing this for months, a handful of ships come out here and leave two or three of their number hidden while the rest come home. We see the contacts round Saturn and return home, and don’t look at it any closer.”
“All the while they are massing a fleet, bit by bit.” Jane allowed a nod of respect. “I’ll give them this, those guys know a thing or two about long term planning.”
“The amount of time, effort and money invested here is enormous.” Mallory outlined. “And it has cost over a thousand lives so far, with more likely to follow if the Nashville is still on course.”
Jane exhaled. “They’ve put too much into this for just a precaution. They have to use this fleet.”
“And there is only one scenario that would see this force deployed.” Mallory raised his eyes. “Full scale war.”

“Tensions have been high for a long time.” April said. “Everyone has been expecting a war for months.”
“Thing is all that fighting has been between mercenaries.” Jane noted. “The Governments have only started mobilising in the last month or two, at least officially.”
“What we have here is proof that the Chinese government mobilised a lot earlier.” Mallory stated simply. “That they were arming and deploying for war before the situation with the mercenaries began to spiral out of control. The Chinese government is constantly trying to portray itself as reacting to American Aggression, their entire foreign policy is built on it. Yet this fleet and the crimes it has committed are proactive. China isn’t being forced unwilling into a war, they are prepared for it, they’ve been ready for months!”
“It’s not just the fleet, it’s the Destroyer that attacked us, a brand new batch never even heard of before.” Jane said. “Built in secret somewhere, not announced in the Chinese budget. How many more ships do they have we aren’t aware of?”
“Hidden across the solar system like these ones.” Mallory shook his head. “It would be hard to do, but not impossible. The US Government thinks its dictating the course of this crisis but President Brook is doing no such thing, the Chinese are ten steps ahead of him.”

“He was on the brink of declaring war over the disputed sectors in the Belt last we heard.” April swallowed. “He’s walking into a trap.”
“Now you see why they fired on us, why they had such an effective warship so far out, why they killed the station, the mercs, maybe the Nashville by now too.” The Commander listed. “They’re getting ready to close the trap, hit the American fleet hard before they know what they are up against.”
“And still claim they were the victims of aggression.” Jane smiled thinly. “They have the military edge but also keep world opinion on their side. Clever, very clever.”
“But that only works if they don’t reveal details of where their ships come from, make it look like they were just in the right place at the right time.” Mallory said. “If people knew what we knew world support for China would evaporate.”
The various officers turned to April and Pete.
“You two might actually be America’s best weapon in this initial stage of the war.”
April blinked. “Us?”
“The sword of truth Miss Conroy.” Mallory stated firmly. “A lot of people have died because of this, were murdered to keep the truth behind this build up secret. You can tell the world and make sure the killers don’t get away with it, make sure those lives taken do not profit the murderers.”
“All we have to do is get home.” Pete said as if it were just that simple.
“Leave that to us.” The Commander returned with a faint smile. “We’re not finished yet.”


Four hours later.


“It’s got to be time now.” Pete tapped his watch, the digital numbers refusing to move any faster. “Let’s just get it done with.”
April sat beside him, and next to her the rescued mercenary Diego Chavez, both equally fidgety and wound up, coiled like an overly tight spring poised to release. They were in the galley, the part of the ship they had become almost synonymous with and one of the few non vital areas still intact. They had nowhere else to go, no quarters, no duty stations, no emergency shelters, so almost by second nature they gathered in the galley, found a group of crash seats on the back wall and strapped themselves in tight. Very tight.
“Couple of minutes yet.” Diego reminded. “They have to time it to the second, if they hit the moon’s gravity just slightly off course…”
“I’m guessing it won’t be pretty.” April pulled a face.
“Best case, we stay on our original course and the Chinese hunt us down.” Diego explained. “Worst case, we hit the moon and leave a shiny new crater.”

“These people are trained for this sort of thing.” Pete was breathing hard. “It’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t sound very sure.” April glanced over. “You alright?”
“Never better.” He inhaled sharply. “Do I sound nervous?”
“Hu uh.” April said with nervous eyes.
“Pretty much.” Diego agreed. “You need to relax.”
“I’ll relax when we’re not dead.” He returned. “These G forces are going to suck.”
“Nothing we can do about it.” Diego said. “They didn’t issue G suits, and these standard pressure suits won’t soak up much. Just brace and try to focus on something ahead.”
“This is going to hurt isn’t it?” April winced.
“It won’t be fun.” The merc confirmed. “But at least all the cutlery is locked away. Last thing we want are knives flying through the room at us! Right?” He glanced over. “Right?”
“Yeah.” April smiled hesitantly. “Right.”
“You did lock the drawers?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
“Well we’re going to find out in about forty seconds.” Pete hissed through his teeth. “Heaven help us all.”


“Final countdown sequence.” Lieutenant Fisher announced from the helm station, her chair locked upright facing forwards behind the two helmsmen. All three had relinquished control to the computer, their role from now on was that of spectators.
Mallory and Jane remained stood at the table, putting the final pieces of the plan in motion. The swarm of Chinese ships was very close, due to cross within the inside of the Amethyst in just under an hour. Beside the main fleet the sensor buoy had also picked up several smaller distortions around the battle group, most likely piquet destroyers. They were the real threat, far more so than the lumbering battleships.
“Course is locked in.” Jane noted, the plotting map showing a straight blue line from their current position to Mimas. “Engines ready for a cold start, all reactors connected and running at optimum capacity.”
“Broadcast final warning.” Mallory ordered.
“All hands, this is the XO.” She announced ship wide. “Assume emergency burn stations, secure all items and standby.”
“Are we secure up here?” Mallory glanced around, receiving confirmation from each station. “Alright then, lets begin. Commence final sequence.”
Jane pushed a button on the table and the final sixty second counter began, the numbers dwindling as power built up in the ship.

“Initiated.” She relayed, then swiftly headed for her chair, Mallory doing the same. The plotting table remained active, displaying information automatically as the senior officers settled down and braced.
“Decoy is ready in the hangar bay.” She noted. “Catapult armed, and there it goes.”
The Commander knew this was going to be an incredibly close call and anything that could buy them some time was worth its weight in gold. Chief Kendle had suggested the simple idea of jettisoning the escape pod Diego had been found in and rigging it to broadcast a distress signal. The pod was all but useless to the ship, but if it could be used to make the Chinese look away, even for a few moments during the critical early boost phase, it could make all the difference.
“Pod away.” She reported. “No change in enemy formation, I don’t think they picked up the EM pulse from the catapult.”
The small survival craft streaked away, crossing in front of the Chinese ships silently at high speed, heading towards Saturn while the Amethyst pointed the other way.
“Five seconds until she transmits.” Jane noted. “Thirty more until boost begins.”

There was a growing hum in the corridors of the warship, a rumble of power that gradually built into a growl, and then a roar. The main and secondary reactors pushed themselves up to full power and then beyond, pouring energy into the gravity and propulsion systems. Turbines began to spin, generators crackle, arcs of lightning discharging in the engine chambers with blue cracks of blinding light. The entire vessel was rattling and vibrating even before it started to move, the vast machinery gearing up and straining to do its job, to be unleashed in a storm of furious power.
Inside her crew was no less eager, no less stirred. They were all fixed in their seats with barely enough slack in their restraints to allow breathing. They held their arms over their chests, crammed their skulls into the high backed head rests and strained for the assault, breathing quick and sharp to maximise their chances of fighting off a black out. Lighting dimmed as non essential systems were drained of energy, gravity began to shift forward to counter the expected acceleration, tugging on belts and clothes, making the occupants feel as though the bow of the ship was pointing downwards and they were suspended above, like the first drop of a massive roller coaster.
Pete was breathing faster now while Diego kept his head still, ignoring everything around him. April was caught between the two, between calmness and panic, which she guessed summed up her experience so far on this journey very neatly. She settled down as well she could, then reached out and held Pete’s hand. It seemed like he hadn’t even noticed at first, but a moment later took hold himself, clasping their hands together. She drew strength from the bond, closing her eyes and just waiting for what was to come.

The Conn rattled like the rest of the ship, shaking the crew in their chairs as they watched their stations with a feeling of redundancy. Each of the ship’s functions counted down independently, like threads weaving together towards a single bound rope heading for the same fast approaching destination. Their fate was out of their hands.
“Distress signal confirmed!” Lieutenant Thomas called above the increasing noise. “Pod is broadcasting!”
“Detecting movement!” Cheyo responded to her own information. “Three contacts breaking away, strong ion trails!”
“What about the rest?” Mallory shouted over.
“No response, they’re still running at minimum power, no propulsion!”
“They don’t want to give their position away!” Jane spoke loudly with obvious glee. “They’re letting the Destroyers handle it!”
“They are heading away from us!” Cheyo said. “It’ll take them at least a minute to alter course to follow us!”
“Let’s hope it’s enough of a head start!” Mallory invested in some optimism.
“Ten seconds!” Fisher reminded.
“They’re firing on the pod!” Cheyo reported. “They’ll see what it is very soon!”
“Doesn’t matter, it did its job!” Jane grinned widely. “Here we go!”
“Good luck everyone!” Mallory shouted as loud as he could over the vibrating metal of the hull. “See you all on the other side of Mimas!”
The counter reached zero and for an instant it all stopped, all the shaking, all the noise, all the breathing. It was as if the ship herself and paused for a mighty gulp of air before plunging into action, thundering into the race of her life, a mad dash for survival. It was a moment Mallory did not forget.
“Angels and Ministers of Grace…”


There was a bang heard throughout the ship, not a mere crash or clang, but a sharp booming explosion that sounded a lot like the sound Thor’s hammer would make if the Norse gods of old took it upon themselves to play polo with small warships. The fuel valves opened simultaneously, cranking open as far as they could go and pouring charged ions into the sparking thrust chambers. The ion drives were used mainly because they were a highly efficient form of propulsion, but with the sheer power and volume of fuel thrown into the chambers the Amethyst may as well have been sitting on a pile of nuclear weapons.
The back of the ship appeared to explode in a cloud of blue and green, an expanding half circle of particles that was then pierced by five massive glowing spikes stabbing like rapier blades from the small ship, each spike rapidly growing to several times the length of the vessel itself. The ice and dust caught behind the ship was immediately cast aside or annihilated, reduced to gas and often ignited by the fury of the engines. Oxygen and hydrogen burned briefly adding short lived flashes of fire to the scene, a shower of sparks just to make sure that everyone knew exactly what was happening.

The Amethyst began her escape, taking the lead in the race to Mimas. She ploughed through the dust cloud leaving a void in her wake, flowing ripples of turbulence in the cloud gently pushing outwards as her long sharp bow cleaved its way out of cover like an ocean skimming clipper ship. Blocks of ice bounced off the hull with plinks and thumps, frequently shattering into amazingly beautiful starbursts of light glistening in the tiny sun. It was the least subtle thing the ship could have done, yet also the most sensible. It was a gamble, a calculation, they had to accelerate fast enough and far enough so that the following vessels wouldn’t catch up in time to see where they went after Mimas. They had a head start but the Chinese destroyers were faster, there was no guarantee which ship was going to come first in this deadly sprint.
The main Chinese fleet did not fire. As predicted they did not take the risk of becoming visible by engaging engines or using their significant quantity of weapons. They too were taking a gamble, choosing not to shoot despite having a decent chance of striking the fleeing ship. As far as they were concerned it didn’t matter, the Frigate had nowhere to run and no way to defeat the Destroyers that were even now turning to engage.
The Destroyers in turn had an excellent target, the bright ion trail abundantly clear to their sensors and the extreme acceleration meaning the small Frigate could not perform any sort of evasive manoeuvres. The only thing the Amethyst had on her side was her extensive Electronic Warfare systems, technology that would now prove whether or not it was worth the price.

Two of the Chinese destroyers began to turn, embarking on long turning circles forced upon them by the fact they had been accelerating in the wrong direction. They had to first cancel out their velocity in one direction, then build it up to head the other way and give chase. As they were doing this the crew would have to brace for the same G forces the Amethyst was experiencing, more in fact, which forced the ships to rely on computer controlled gunfire. The other two Destroyers did not alter course, simply cutting engines and rotating to bring their maximum number of guns to bear. They would hold back and give supporting fire while their comrades raced forward, hopefully destroying the Frigate before the other half of the Flotilla could claim the kill. They fired under manual control, for while computer directed guns were exceptionally accurate they could be disrupted by sufficiently powerful Electronic jamming. The only effective counter to jamming was the one thing no computer had. Instinct.
The Amethyst could not respond with force, her main guns remained silent as the power that would have fed them instead propelled the ship at beyond normal speed. However while she could not hurt the ships chasing her she could defend herself, the point defence lasers and six barrelled autocannons on the stern arc swivelling into position.

Unsurprisingly nobody within the Amethyst was in much of a position to react, simply putting their faith in the programming and capabilities of the main computers. The acceleration was beyond even the fiercest of burns the crew had tried before, beyond what they were supposed to limit themselves to, beyond what the ship was designed to withstand. Every reading was in the red, the reactors were burning fuel at an insane rate, the ion tanks were emptying before the crew’s eyes, the magnetic rings in the drive chambers were glowing white with heat. The hull creaked and groaned, metal compressed, seams and welds strained under the pressure desiring nothing better than to split apart and splay open the ship like a pine cone.
Her crew remained pinned to their chairs, the specially designed seats supporting the bodies within them like shaped cushions morphed to the contours of its occupant. The arrangement helped prevent injury but also greatly limited their movement, they were now to all intents and purposes passengers, prisoners of physics. The G forces were so intense they couldn’t even speak, unable to project anything more than a strangled grunt from their hard pressed lungs. Already several had blacked out from the stress, there would inevitably be more to follow.

The edges of Mallory’s vision were closing in, a hazy burgundy colour accompanied by blue and purple spots gliding lazily across his sight. He fought back with as much intensity as he could muster, determined to remain awake and witness these events to which he was a part, even if it was for now a useless part. He focused entirely on the table a few feet ahead, on the glowing models of ships, dust clouds, rocks and moons, each with its own course and trajectory mapped out in a series of curved intersecting lines. Life and death lay in those bright child like colours, and it was out of his hands.

 

[Harlock]

The slower moving Chinese ships opened fire, braking steadily and measuring their salvoes, working together to create an efficient saturation pattern and catch the fleeing vessel. The heavy metal shots streaked across the ice rings, bright silver darts gleaming in the light as they passed through the void towards Amethyst. There wasn’t much the ship could do in terms of evasion, but it still had plenty of options up its sleeves. The computer monitored and tracked each round, plotting its course and assigning them a threat rating. In this instance each of the incoming shots missed her by a wide margin, a fact noted by both sides and corrected for. The second Chinese barrage was closer, and the third closer still as they eliminated sensor ghosts and electronic tricks gradually closing in on the true location of the Frigate itself.
The other two Chinese ships on rapid approach also engaged, and as with the Amethyst were fighting under computer control. Missiles burst out from their bow tubes, clouds of gas that were immolated in shining balls of brief fire an instant later proclaimed each launch, the long tubes dodging and howling towards the target like a pack of wild dogs.

The Chinese missiles were more dangerous right now than the gunshots, capable of seeking their own targets they would home in on the source of the jamming, using several sensor feeds to locate the target as they closed the range and work out their own engagement pattern. Those datalinked weapons spread out, cruising with remarkable speed and agility fanning outwards before curving back around to plummet towards the Amethyst.
They were met by a solid wall of point defences, laser guns flashed as their barrels discharged their packets of invisible photons, a slight burst of coolant from each muzzle the only sign they were working. Behind them the autocannons also engaged spitting thousands of one inch shells out in the path of the incoming missiles, long tongues of fire belching from the muzzles as the minute friction from the bullets was compounded by the volume.
The cannons created a barrier of flak behind the Amethyst, puffs of smoke and flashes of detonating charges splitting open the rounds and releasing tiny particles of metal into the path of the enemy projectiles like a steel cloud. The metal fragments were too small to hurt warships, even at great speed, but the thin skin of the missiles was another matter. One after another the devices were shredded like tubes of tinfoil, engines misfired, fuel tanks were torn open, guidance systems were smashed. Those that did not immediately explode were sent rolling out of control spewing compressed liquid or flames, yet even as they failed a second and third wave were inbound on different vectors pressing the limited defences of the Frigate.

While the autocannons laid down flak across the stern the lasers watched the flanks, intercepting missiles coming in on alternate courses. The small turrets were completely automated anyway so did not suffer for the loss of human input, their function requiring reaction times and precision far beyond that of a human mind. Each laser fired in rapid pulses to preserve barrel life, stitching energy along the sides of missiles or hitting the same spot with superb precision, melting into the stubbornly tough ordnance.
Most missiles were nuclear tipped and relatively fragile, but some were kinetic missiles, slammer warheads of solid armour piercing alloy that were little more than guided rail gun rounds. They proved harder to kill requiring a precise hit against a fuel tank or motor, something the missile guidance was smart enough to try and stop by flying straight for the ship masking their vulnerable areas.
Four slammers approached from different directions, the Amethyst quickly assigning them the highest priority. Lasers picked and prized at the weapons, heating the solid warhead to a glow but failing to do much significant damage. It wasn’t until the missiles were right on top of the ship that they were able to find a lock on an engine and stop the devices, framing the Frigate in blasts of heat and vapour. One warhead, carried by momentum, bounced off the prow with a sharp bang, the noise lost in the thunder of the engines.

Mallory had his teeth gritted as he watched the enemy tracks come closer, the Chinese warships zeroing in on his position. The ECM was doing its job but they couldn’t hide behind it forever. Mimas seemed an eternity away, barely moving closer as the engines fumed and fried. He was assailed by the constant question as to whether or not he had done the right thing, whether he had made the right choice by commanding this escape, whether he had just gone and killed them all.
He couldn’t even try to correct that mistake, to force redemption by fighting his ship like a cornered tiger or employing every trick and random tactic he could imagine. The computer he trusted was too linear, too predictable, it couldn’t match a living crew which was why warfare remained the domain of humans not robots. He prayed he had not made a mistake.

Round after round streaked past, some closer than others, some faster than others. The Chinese ships were varying their shots, using different projectiles, testing themselves almost as if it were on exercise. For them it was their first true experience of battle and they apparently did not give much credence to the Amethyst as a threat. It seemed like victory was a foregone conclusion and maybe it was, but for all its faults the computers of the Frigate did not at least recognise despair as an option.
A quartet of cylinders popped from the aft hull, spinning away and bursting into clouds of black glittering strips that confused radar and blocked visuals. The Amethyst began to intermittently make smoke, pouring a sooty mix of carbon and metal particulates from valves around the main engines to mask its ion trail and add to the difficulties in spotting the fast moving ship. False beacons were dropped, decoys launched, jamming modulated to counter different methods of attack. The ship used every asset in its inventory, every article and device it had within the beaten hull with all the vigour of the human crew. Unfeeling and detached as the computer was for these long moments it looked like it truly was fighting for its own life.

Tracers danced behind the ship, tracks of light ending in glittering balls of grey flak. The battle zone was spotted with pieces of debris, black clouds and navigational hazards. Despite this the two Chinese pursuers did not slow down, ploughing through the wreckage with barely a murmur in the supremely confident belief that their armour could handle such collisions. They were entirely correct. As the second pair of destroyers maintained a withering fire the chasing ships switched tactics. They couldn’t fire accurately without human input, but that didn’t make their guns useless. The commanding computers selected their most effective weapons, nuclear tipped rail gun rounds usually reserved for taking on capital ships, and reprogrammed them for proximity bursts.

The batteries of Chinese guns aligned, made some minor adjustments, and fired in blasts of burning gas. The Amethyst sensors spotted the threat at once, noting the reduced mass of the incoming rounds and correctly deducing their nature. Laser and flak guns switched targets yet again and focused on the new threat, spraying energy and solid shot at the deadly weapons. Unlike missiles there was no fuel to detonate here and the rounds were very heavily armoured in order to punch through enemy hulls and detonate internally. It would take an extremely lucky hit to destroy one, instead the volleys of gunfire were designed to push the rounds off course. It was an utterly desperate move, but in battles where destruction and salvation were divided by a fraction of a degree it was worth the expenditure.
The nuclear rounds began to detonate, the sensors triggering the process as the shells reached their closest possible point. Brief flashes of intense white bracketed the Amethyst showering X-rays and radiation against the hull, momentarily blinding sensors and threatening the effectiveness of the defences. Even as these blasts buffeted the Amethyst more and more Chinese rounds from the other Destroyer group whizzed past within a dozen yards of the ship, missiles exploding ever closer as the defences were saturated by the pure volume of destruction directed their way.

Everything was converging, the pursuers, the long range attacks, the missiles, all or it reaching the point through trial and error when finally they would strike the hull, and it was only going to take a single hit to decide the outcome of this day. Mimas was right there, through his fading vision Mallory could see it on the plot, the blurring of its colour still recognisable. They had just seconds to go, it was going to be another fiendishly close call, the sort no one should have to endure twice in their lifetime. Nuclear blasts erupted on all sides, a trio of missiles streaked past, evading the guns and blowing up a hundred yards in front of the ship showering the forward hull with wreckage like sand in a hurricane, only a last second surge of ECM averting disaster. The ship was surviving from heartbeat to heartbeat, the thumping of blood in Mallory’s ears drowning out the cries or the tortured hull and hoarse roar of the main engines.

The warship had a final card to play, and if a computer could sneer he was sure the Amethyst would right now be raising a middle digit at the four powerful ships trying to bring her down. Her four bow tubes popped open and in the same moment discharged a missile apiece, each fifteen metre long tube looping back around and shooting past the hull within feet of touching the mottled metal. The Chinese ships spotted the projectiles at once and prepared to respond, interlocking defences arming and pivoting forward.
The missiles however were not aimed at the Chinese ships. Once past the Amethyst they turned in four separate directions and broke apart, scattering dozens of small Neutron warheads between the two opposing parties. A split second later they exploded, only just outside the recommended safe distance from the Amethyst, bathing the area in high intensity radiation and sensor static. As the warheads blew the Amethyst dropped one final salvo of countermeasures before cutting everything. Weapons, engines, sensors, ECM, everything.
Inside the crew were suddenly thrown forward as the engines cut out, the acceleration that had been pushing them back stopping immediately and the gravity returning to normal. Mallory still felt like he was rushing on at high speed, his legs trembling jelly from the horrendous trial but he was at least still conscious. A quick glance round showed Jane and a few others were also groggily checking their surroundings, but most of the bridge staff were out cold. Probably a good thing.

The assault on their bodies was not over yet, the brief moment of respite serving as little more than the proverbial eye of the storm. Very, very slightly, the Amethyst began to turn.
“Mimas.” Mallory managed to say weakly. “Here we go again.”
On paper it was nothing, a mere twenty degree turn using Mimas as an anchor, the sort of manoeuvre a cadet could manage. Unfortunately most cadets weren’t trying to flee a Chinese task force intent on turning them into frozen blocks of red ice, a situation which made everything much more complicated. The Amethyst could not fire thrusters to adjust her orientation, she would be taking the turn head on and unpowered which was going to be unpleasant. They would use the gravity alone to turn the ship, not a combination of the moon’s gravity well and the Amethysts own gavitic systems, the enemy were too close to risk activating the ship’s drives by now. Mimas was quite small so in theory the turn would be quick, unfortunately given the speed with which the Amethyst was approaching even this tiny nudge onto a different course was going to hurt. Badly.

There was moment of weightlessness, a feeling of amazing lightness where the straps and bonds meant nothing, where the seats were not constricting, where the G force of the turn precisely cancelled out the artificial gravity working in the opposite direction. The wondrous sensation was over far too quickly.
The warship approached Mimas with the moon facing its upper hull rather than the bow, meaning the force of the turn would push the crew down instead of backwards. It was a particularly dangerous risk and given the forces involved could inflict some severe injuries on the crew, even fatalities. Mallory gripped the chair and pushed back his head as the pressure built, squashing him down towards the floor. His chair automatically adjusted to put his body in the best position to resist damage and stretched him out flat, but there was only so much it could do. Once again he could make no sound, he just fixed his eyes forward, this time on the roof, and waited for it to end.

Without the engines drowning out the noise this time every creak and whine of the hull was clearly audible. Amethyst was a well built ship even though she wasn’t an armoured juggernaut, she was still designed to take the worst stresses and strains space could throw at her. But like all things there were limits, and the Amethyst was not helped by the large hole blown in her side and hastily patched up a week before.
The myriad of noises from within the ship was remarkable, from deep groans and slow creaks to nearly ultra sonic squeals and twisted cries that sounded like a banshee stubbing its toe. The warship went through the entire catalogue of ominous sounds before reaching the worst, the bang and rip of something obviously important breaking.
Alarms began to sound, warnings of impending disaster which proved entirely pointless to a crew trapped in their chairs. It was a particularly cruel torture, the imminent warning that their ship needed someone to fix it when every single person was immobilised, helpless to prevent the disaster from consuming them. At least one member of the bridge staff was screaming in utter panic, a sound which sharply ended as the person in question blacked out.

There was nothing that could be done, their course was set, their speed unchanging. Even if they had wanted to enact a change of course it was impossible now, it would take far too long to decelerate and Mimas was upon them. Named for an ancient Titan the moon was small by most standards but still a lot bigger than any man made structure. The Frigate passed over the massive crater on its surface, the strain on the hull increasing massively as the Amethyst arrived at the apex of its turn.
Mallory wasn’t going to be able to hold on, his hearing was already on the way out which in part he was grateful for. He couldn’t listen to the cries of his ship, the agony it was going through as it tried to convey its crew to safety. He felt sorry for the ship in the same way he felt sympathy for any of his crew in pain, a bizarre turn of logic which he didn’t even try to justify. She was just metal and plastics arranged into a functioning vehicle, but in a very real sense she was more than the sum of her parts.
He could see the light fittings move, rotating slightly as the metal roof behind them contracted and pressed together. Wires drooped as they slackened and lost their tension, folds began to appear overhead as if the roof was made of grey silk and not advanced alloys. The artificial gravity was keeping him alive, but it wasn’t strong enough to counter all the G forces and slowly, against his will and unbidden, he dropped into a painful slumber.


“That was a pretty dumb thing to do.”
Mallory was stood in sunlight, on a planet, with grass stretching up to his knees. The sky was of pure blue, an incredibly rich hue only seen on the most perfect of winter mornings with not a cloud hanging before it. The grass around him was lush green, the product of a wet spring and warm summer, stretching right to the horizon where it merged with the blue panorama. He knew at once it wasn’t real, it just couldn’t be, but couldn’t quite shake off that uncanny feeling that it might be.
“I mean it took nerve, but come on.”
The female voice came from over his shoulder, incredibly rich and textured, soft but at the same time powerful, seductive even. He turned on his heels to face the speaker, and was not pleasantly surprised.
The figure was wearing a long black robe, her face obscured by a large tattered hood hanging low over her features. In her left hand she held a scythe, the long curved blade nicked and dented.
“Oh great.” He exhaled.
“Hi there.” The robe figure replied. “Yeah I know, most people aren’t exactly pleased to see me.”
“Death, I presume?” Mallory enquired, perfectly sure this was the craziest dream ever.
“What gave it away? The robe or the giant scythe?” The female mocked gently. “Yeah, Death.”
“I expected you to be a man.”
“I’m the corporeal embodiment of a fictional concept associated with a simple biological process.” She answered bluntly. “It’s how your imagination sees me, I’m not real. But hey, kudos for equal opportunity fantasies.”

“So I’m not about to die?”
“No, you blacked out. You’ll either wake up, or you’ll die and never even know it. Either way we’re going to part company soon.”
“So are you going to deliver a message from my subconscious or something?”
“Yeah, don’t stop fighting.” She said, drawing back her hood to reveal a remarkably attractive face framed with smooth black hair that reflected the light like oil. “You only lose when you give up.”
“So my subconscious is like a motivational poster now?”
“Your brain man, not mine.” She winked.
“Thought you were a figment of my imagination?”
The figure smiled widely. “Get back out there Edward, I’ve enjoyed watching your efforts. I like you, it’s not your time.”
“Well…alright then.”
“I’ve got a lot of business elsewhere. A real lot of business. Good luck Edward, try to keep me busy.”


The blue sky turned grey, the warm soon turned into harsh neon, and the pleasant brushing of grass on his legs was replaced by something pinning him down. He was back, his eyes regaining their focus and picking out the distinctive features of his ship, or at least the roof of it. The noises had stopped, and this time it wasn’t because he was deaf. Slowly he raised his hands and covered his face, breathing heavily into his hands as his head pounded, ears echoing to the pounding of his heart, and eyes fought against bleariness.
“I swear I’m losing my mind.” He murmured, then reached down and tapped a control at the side of his chair, bringing the seat back upright. With the ship still completely in silence he clumsily unbuckled his belts, the clicks thunderous in the room, and allowed the restraints to slip away, planting his feet on the deck and pushing himself up.
He at once fell down to his knees, his centre of balance still in turmoil from the desperate escape. He had to grab hold of the plotting table and drag himself up, teeth set hard in his jaw as he willed himself back to his feet, pushing through the hazy disorientation to regain control of his body. He balanced beside the table for a few more seconds, and then let go to stand on his own two feet, despite a little wobble.
In the time it took to regain his balance a handful of other people were stirring, dropping their seats back level and rubbing their eyes, trying to take in the information displayed at the consoles before them. One by one each duty station was manned, the computer patiently awaiting orders to relinquish command to the crew once more.

“Jane, are you with me?” Mallory asked as he staggered over to her chair, shaking the limp officer out of her enforced unconsciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, the pupils expanding to see in the dim light and lock on to Mallory’s face with dawning relief.
“Are we alive? Or did the afterlife choose the worst possible decorators?”
“We’re alive.” Mallory helped her unfasten her clasps. “Trust me, Death told me in person.”
“That’s nice.” She leaned on him for support, tottering on her weakened legs. “How is he?”
“Apparently Death is a girl, a pretty one.”
“Makes sense, women are always the best at tidying up.” She agreed. “Still have a scythe and hood?”
“Oh yeah, must be the official uniform.” Mallory led her to the plotting table. “Everyone has standards.”
Jane transferred her weight to the table with a long sigh, pressing her hand against her temple. “This head ache is going to kill for days, I just know it.”
“Could be worse.” Mallory shrugged. “Notice we’re still alive.”
“Which means we must have shaken off our pursuit, otherwise we wouldn’t be chatting.” She agreed. “According to the clock we were out for four minutes.”
“Long enough.” He presumed. “We’re on the correct course, predicted speed, no leaks or trails.”
“We were lucky again, way the hull was creaking I was sure we would have sprung a leak. Good old Amethyst.”
“Good old girl.” Mallory agreed, directing a wink at the bulkhead before him.

He directed his attention to the plotting table, the display showing only Mimas hovering just behind them.
“Chinese forces are behind the moon still.” He observed. “They’ll be moving into the open soon.”
“Then we see if this little ruse has paid off.” Jane motioned. “If it hasn’t…”
“Then I’ll introduce you to Death.” Mallory smiled. “We’re on first name terms.”
“Getting a little creepy now sir.”
“So noted.” Mallory chuckled, breaking the tension. “Keep watching.”
One by one each station returned to duty, and each officer found themselves with nothing to do but watch and wait to see if they were going to be followed. The entire ship was locked down for silent running once again, each system running at minimal emissions which usually meant switched off, even the defences. If there was trouble, at this sort of range it would be over before they could even arm weapons.
Mallory found himself leaning into the plotting table as if those extra inches of proximity would give him a greater view of events, a superior window into the future. He almost jumped when the first red blip showed up, transforming into a model of the twin hulled Chinese Destroyer.

“First contact.” Lieutenant Cheyo reported quietly. Her voice could not give their position away even if she were bellowing, but in the eerily quiet ship a mere whisper carried from one end of the Conn to another. “No active sensors.”
“Still running on low emission protocol.” Jane noted. “Active scans would show up across the system.”
“Second contact.” Cheyo added. “Both clearing Mimas.”
“What course Lieutenant?” Mallory asked the priceless question, the answer to which everything was resting on.
All eyes turned to the sensor officer, her dark features lit by the green and black of the screen before her, leaning so far forward she could nearly kiss the screen.
“Lieutenant?”
“They’re… they’re moving away!” She shot an electric grin at the Commander. “They’re following our last course! Heading for Mars!”
The release of tension was like magic, a reprieve from an apparently assured death sentence at the last second. There was no way to describe it other than pure transcendent joy. The cheer all but shook the ship.
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Mallory reigned them in. “Long way to go yet. I need up to date damage reports and crew casualty lists. Watch those Chinese ships, there are two more destroyers out there, possibly three, make sure they are all accounted for before we start popping champagne.”
He glanced across the bridge gruffly, then allowed his face to relax a little.
“Well done ladies and gents, we’re still here.” He fell into a grin. “And well done Amethyst. We’re homeward bound people, that’s our goal to aim for and I can think of nothing better. Let’s try and make it with no further dramas.”

 

[Harlock]

10


One week out from Saturn


“Ah, Miss Conroy, Mr Muller, welcome back to my Conn.”
April acknowledged Mallory’s greeting a little sheepishly, wondering why they had been summoned at short notice to join the command staff. She couldn’t help but imagine it had something to do with her increasingly close relations with Pete which had been generating a lot of talk among the crew. The Royal navy had a strict policy about ship board relationships and while she was a civilian she was constantly worried about someone in authority coming down hard on them.
“Please.” The Commander offered them a place beside the plotting table at the centre of the room. “Sorry we haven’t had much time to talk lately, seems the only time we get to chat is when something dangerous is happening.”
“Sadly this is no exception, something dangerous is about to happen.” Jane strode over from the sensor station. “Glad to see you both looking very rosy. Getting plenty of exercise?”
“XO.” Mallory gently directed the topic away from April’s blushing. “Did you get confirmation?”
“Yes sir, Cheyo thinks they were indeed nukes, about fourteen separate detonations.”
“Nukes?” Pete cut in. “Someone’s throwing nukes around again?”
“I’m afraid so.” Mallory confirmed. “Do you remember the second Chinese force we had on sensors? Not the hidden fleet at Saturn, the smaller group that hit the Mercenary ship.”
“I remember them, we didn’t know what they were doing so far out here.” April recalled. “Guess we got an answer for that.”
“Likely a supply run for their friends out here.” Jane nodded. “Well they’re still out here.”
“Didn’t our last information say they were going for the Nashville?” Pete chipped in.
“That’s right, and they’ve finally started engaging.” Mallory nodded. “Captain Lantree led them a merry little chase, kept them guessing to his intentions and left them pouncing at shadows. It couldn’t last though, they’ve finally caught up with him.”

The holograms over the table displayed the situation, which by this time April and Pete could read as well as any trained Naval Officer. They were aware of the details, the way the information was presented and what it all meant. A few months ago the idea of either of them being able to accurately deduce tactical situations from a warship sensor display would have been absurd. Reality had forced them to adapt, and swiftly.
“You can see the Chinese ships here chasing the Nashville.” Jane highlighted some red blips, one large and one small. “Here’s the Nashville herself.” She pointed to a blue dot. “All three are on a parallel course burning for home.”
“I thought the Nashville was heading to Saturn?” April squinted at the display.
“She was.” Mallory answered. “Lantree must have brought her about and reversed course before he arrived, quite a difficult job.”

“It’s a lot easier just to use planetary gravity wells to turn around.” Jane explained. “Saves a lot of fuel and often a lot of time. Lantree had to brake to cancel his outbound velocity, then accelerate back the way he came again. I bet it cost him half his fuel reserves, very energy intensive.”
“Lot of G force too.” The Commander added. “It would have been harsh on the crew, but it did change his course and ruin all the Chinese calculations.”
He pointed at the red dots.
“That force calculated their own trajectory to intercept the Nashville, so when Lantree doubled back he screwed up their projections too, forced them to change course and waste fuel.”
“Also avoided any minefields they may have seeded his path with.” Jane added. “Now the Chinese are chasing him instead of waiting for him to come to them.”
“And the bad news is they’re catching up.” Mallory grimaced. “They’ve had more time to accelerate on this course, even with the Nashville’s powerful engines he can’t outrun them in time. They’ll have him in effective firing range in a few minutes.”

As they watched a few small traces left the Chinese ships and travelled across the electronically rendered gap between the coloured dots, passing by the blue blob with no effect.
“Ranging shots.” Jane informed. “Trying to get a sense of where he is in the ECM cloud.”
“Can he fight back?” Jane asked. “His odds have got to be better than ours?”
“The Nashville is a much tougher ship than us, but he can’t hide like we can. He has nowhere to go, no other option but to fight.” Mallory stated. “And the deck is stacked against him.”
“We’ve analysed the enemy Ion trails as they accelerated to catch him.” Jane picked up. “Our initial guess seemed correct, the main enemy vessel is a Champion class heavy Cruiser, almost twice the mass of the Nashville.”
“What about the other one?” Pete pointed at the second red dot.
“Light Destroyer.” Mallory said. “No real threat to the American ship, but given the strength of its big sister it doesn’t have to be.”

“The Nashville is armed with six inch rail guns, thirty of them, very respectable.” Jane glanced at the two reporters. “But the Chinese ship is tooled up with eight inch guns, twenty four of them.”
“The Nashville has more guns giving it a wider salvo spread and a better chance of hitting, unfortunately the Chinese ship fires much bigger rounds. Even with less guns she still has nearly twice the weight of fire Lantree can deploy.”
“Sounds like its shaping up for a massacre.” Pete sighed in dejection, shaking his head at the abstract blips.
“You’d think so, but Lantree does have the advantage of position and he’s already used it.” Mallory said. “An hour ago there were three Chinese ships, Lantree dropped some nuclear mines in their path and wiped out one of them, a heavy destroyer.”
“The explosions you were talking about?”
“Right.” Mallory nodded. “He’s outmatched but he knows his ship and he knows his business. He won’t go down without a fight.”
“And we have ringside seats.” Pete noticed. “Great.”
“Better than that.” Jane grinned. “Our course takes us straight through the middle of the battle zone.”
April rolled her eyes.“Yeah, it would wouldn’t it.”
“Don’t worry, by the time we arrive it’s probably going to be all over” Mallory informed bleakly. “Poor bastards.”


For the next several minutes the Chinese ships moved in closer, balancing their need to close the range with their desire not to overshoot the target and blaze past at full burn. Both sides fired a few disparate salvoes, biding their time until they were close enough to make their shots count.
“Chinese destroyer is breaking off.” Cheyo noted, a situation that was mirrored on the tactical plot. The smaller red dot began to peel away, adopting a new course that would keep it clear of the expected engagement zone.
“Not surprised, small ship like that wouldn’t last long in a fight between those two.” Mallory observed.
“Neither will we.” Jane added. “Better hope we can sneak past, otherwise this is going to get ugly.”
“Are we close enough for an accurate visual on both ships?”
“Should be sir.”
“Bring them up, let’s see what happens.”
Two holographic images floated up from the table, one the familiar blocky hull of the Nashville, the other the sharp trimaran shape of the Chinese cruiser.

“Mean looking ship.” Pete remarked. “They designed to look intimidating?”
“Probably.” Mallory said. “Hard to look friendly when you’re sprouting giant guns from every surface.”
The Chinese ship was notably wider than the Nashville, her long central hull flanked by two smaller ones each five times the mass of the Amethyst. It mounted eight turrets on its primary hull each sprouting three long cannons, four turrets facing ahead and four astern. The secondary hulls were festooned with lesser calibre rail guns and laser point defences along with Vertical Launch missile racks and shuttlebays. Eight engines propelled her, four in the centre and a pair each at the back of the two secondary hull pods, all spewing ions out at an alarming rate.
There was nothing soft about the Chinese ship, and while ultimately a functional design the visual image showed a long snake like golden dragon painted onto its flanks, jaws wide and flames flickering through its fangs. As the Amethyst watched the pictures transmitted in almost real time the cruiser decided it was close enough to initiate the main event itself, aligning its forward heavy guns and opening missile tubes.
“Chinese vessel ready to fire!” Cheyo called. “Nashville is taking evasive action!”

The Chinese guns slammed back in their turrets, sliding forward as the recoil mechanism reseated them. They were engaging by the book, launching canister rounds that split apart and sprayed ball bearings in the path of the US ship with an eventual clatter of impacts. Lantree answered in kind, blasting his own shot gun like rounds at the Chinese ship, both attempting to smash radar receivers and diminish the sight of their opponent. The small projectiles had no effect on the hardened hulls of the warships despite the speed they hit with, but April ‘s eyes were quick enough to spot glimpses of antennae and phased sensor arrays spinning away in pieces from both ships.
“Both sides are launching missiles.” The report continued. “Defences responding.”
The Chinese cruiser was packing a lot more fire than the Destroyers April had previously witnessed in combat, its sides mounting destroyer grade guns as back up weapons. Where those destroyers had launched six or eight missiles at a time the cruiser belched literally hundreds, the VLS launchers erupting in smoke and fire as they emptied themselves into space with eye watering volume. Most of the missiles were quite small, not the fifteen metre torpedo like weapons of the Amethyst, but they still had the potential to do considerable damage especially considering the simple numbers being hurled across space. This was combat on a massively different scale, yet still slight compared to any real fleet battle.

The Nashville turned hard away from the barrage, a move which must have thrown the crew hard into their chairs. Silver clouds of chaff popped from emergency launchers followed up by a wall of flak. The dual purpose guns and point defences flashed incessantly making it look like every inch of the warship’s central hull was alight, the large number of defences straining to the limit as the Chinese ship tried to saturate Lantree and overwhelm him. Tracer fire turned the sky orange, lines of tiny burning projectiles escaping the gun barrels in ridiculous quantity.
Even as the missiles streaked in, clouds of debris marking the demise of their colleagues, the Chinese cruiser was moving in for another attack, the forward facing turrets aligning to send another salvo of five hundred ton shells towards the inundated American ship, still closing the range and seeking the perfect shot. This time she fired a mix of canister and solid armour piercing darts, the heavy rounds glowing due to friction in the barrel.
Lantree’s helmsman was good, throwing the ship into another fiendishly tight turn, the sudden course change threw off the Chinese gunnery, the projectiles blazing past the stern, but also reduced the effectiveness of the Nashville’s own guns for a crucial moment. It was enough time, barely, for three missiles to penetrate the screen, bursting against the grey hull in sharp flashes of light.

“Direct hit, tactical nukes.” Jane grunted. “She’s in one piece but it looks like she’s lost most of her point defence on the starboard side.”
April could see what Jane meant, the right hand side of the ship was a horrible molten mass of bubbled metal like badly applied cement. It didn’t look like the damage had gone through the hull, but the impacts would have shaken loose lumps of metal from the inner hull surfaces in a process called spalling. Those lumps would have crushed anything in their path as they were dislodged by the shockwaves in the metal, including decks, bulkheads and of course any human beings unlucky enough to be in the way.
“Engine fluctuations.” Cheyo noted. “She’s coming about.”
“He’s going to mask his damaged flank from enemy fire.” Jane guessed.
“I don’t think so.” Mallory watched carefully. “He’s channelling power to the engines, he’s turning towards the Chinese cruiser.”
“No way.” Jane exclaimed. “He’s turning straight for her!”

Mallory shook his head in equal parts surprise and approval. “He’s going to take her head on at point blank range.”
“Against a ship twice his size? That’s suicide.” Jane watched disbelieving.
“Not much else he can do.”
Several Chinese shells flew past, missing the American ship by a wide margin as it made its extreme course change and burned its engines hard, great glowing bands of light displaying the immense power involved. Both ships were moving at roughly the same velocity relative to each other, Lantree’s sudden change in direction made it appear as if he was flying towards the Chinese ship though technically he was just braking and letting the Chinese ship come to him.
“Is the enemy ship slowing?” Mallory asked.
“No sir, she’s cut engines.” Cheyo noted. “She’s changing orientation.”
The image of the Chinese vessel turned as it rotated on its central axis, swinging its bow around so that it appeared to be flying sideways, presenting its left side to the Nashville.
“She’s preparing a broadside.” Pete guessed.
“So is Lantree.” Jane added. “Nashville is altering orientation.”
Both cruisers were still flying at each other but now with their port sides facing the target rather than the bow, the lack of gravity and air resistance making orientation irrelevant for travel, but still crucial in battle. Both ships had brought their maximum firepower to bear, heavy gun turrets training around and facing their opponent, the range rapidly diminishing.
“What are they doing?” April asked through her teeth. “Are they both insane?”
“There’s nothing like this in any tactics manual.” Jane replied absently. “It’s desperation.”
“It’s defiance.” Mallory corrected. “I hope you’ve been recording this.”

The two cruisers opened fire, not with the carefully monitored salvoes of conventional battle but with massive broadsides spat with fiery vehemence at the fast approaching enemy. Even with their size the main guns were capable of an impressive rate of fire, the auto loaders slamming a second round in two seconds after the first left. The lighter guns of the Nashville worked marginally quicker, but there was little to tell between the two combatants.
The glowing rounds raced past either ship, their illumination serving to help the gunners track their rounds and correct for each miss. The arsenals arrayed on each vessel adjusted with each shot, intent on simply filling space with metal until something hit even if only by random chance.
In the end it was the Nashville that scored the first hit, a six inch round passing straight through the bow of the Chinese ship in a welt of metal panels and girders, bulging the hull for a tiny instant before exploding through the far side. Spectacular as the hit looked it did not slow down the Chinese ship, but did at least give the Nashville gunners hard data on the exact range and speed of their target, information soon put to good use.

Lantree burned his main engines again, pushing his ship away from the seemingly inevitable collision with the Chinese heavy cruiser. His gunners expertly maintained their rate of fire, putting three more rounds into the large enemy warship with varying consequences before inevitably an eight inch round struck home and removed the foremost of the Nashville’s turrets, turning the multi thousand ton structure into fragments the size of postage stamps. Only the guns themselves survived as recognisable elements, thanks mainly to the fact that warship cannons were made from the hardest wearing material known to man.
“Where’s he going?” Mallory asked rhetorically. “Is he accelerating again?”
“Looks like it sir.” Jane confirmed. “If he holds course he’s going to cross within a kilometre of the Chinese ship.”
“And there’s going to be nothing the Chinese ship can do about it. The Nashville is to fast, too agile, he’s dictating the range of the battle.” Mallory congratulated. “But it won’t mean much if the Chinese ship guts him on approach.”

The American cruiser was making a tight spiralling turn, its trio of engines burning fiercely as Captain Lantree threw himself at the enemy. The Chinese ship had more engines, but couldn’t match the thrust to weight ratio of the well designed US cruiser and found itself unable to change its position. All she could do was pivot to keep its best side to the Nashville and maintain fire. Never the less the dragon ship still out gunned its American opponent, and the closer range suited her gunners just as much as Lantree’s.
Heavy artillery continued to be exchanged by both sides, opening huge burning holes in the sides of each ship that conclusively failed to put either Captain off. Less than one in a hundred shots was connecting with the target, but each passing minute brought more damage and as the range closed the chances of a hit only grew. The mighty ships were shearing thousands of tons of each other, whole gun turrets blown off, entire decks sliced open to space, the internal workings of both vessels clear to see.
“The Nashville is riding her engines hard.” Cheyo announced. “Estimate her reactors are at two hundred percent, she’s only got a few minutes until they melt through the hull.”
“Couple more hits and it won’t matter.” Jane added a pessimistic note. “She’s leaking air from all decks, thermals show multiple internal fires.”
“Come on Captain, just a little more.” Mallory willed. “Don’t let it end so soon.”

With a bone jarring course change the Nashville turned her bow to face the Chinese cruiser, a switch in direction that must have pushed her crew to the limits of consciousness. She burned hard for the enemy vessel, forward guns spitting flame as a pair of enemy shells turned the armoured front of the US cruiser into a mess of tangled half molten metal, wreathing her in yellow flame.
“She’s on collision course.” Cheyo called. “She’s going to ram!”
“Chinese vessel altering course, she’s turning towards.” Jane also spoke up. “They’re going bow to bow, best way to survive a ramming attempt.”
Both ships continued to exchange fire as they closed, the small Chinese destroyer throwing its weight into the fight and launching a spread of nuclear weapons at the Nashville. The American point defences swatted them out of the sky with contempt, responding with a few missiles of their own and forcing the destroyer to break off and mind its own business.
Heavy rounds tore into both ships, tens of thousands of tons of metal were blasted away, severed, or melted by the repeated impacts. The Nashville was being turned inside out, her innards spilling from behind the grey hull as she was unzipped by the Chinese vessel. Yet she still managed to shoot back with virtually all her guns, causing one of the secondary hulls of the trimaran cruiser to burst like a balloon.
“Ten seconds to impact.” Jane noted, most of the Conn watching the clash in awestruck silence. “Seven seconds.”

At the very final moment the weary engines of the American ship managed a final spurt of energy, nudging the bow just a few degrees off course so the two tattered hulls did not connect but passed by just feet from each other. For ships designed to fight from several light seconds away combat at this range was utterly unthinkable.
Now, finally Lantree had the advantage. The Chinese ship was twice his mass and a dozen metres taller, which meant its guns were mounted higher than those of the Nashville. By passing so close Lantree had put himself inside the minimum range of the Chinese guns, the weapons on the dorsal surface couldn’t depress low enough to hit him, the ventral ones could raise far enough. For a few heartbeats as he cruised by the Chinese ship couldn’t touch him, but he could hit them with every gun that could still shoot, and at this range nothing was going to miss.
Smashed, twisted and streaked with flame the Nashville unloaded her main batteries into the Chinese vessel, blasting clean through the hull and out the other side in pillars of flame and spinning debris. One after the other the guns spoke, ripping out the interior of the Chinese ship, taking its reactors, fuel tanks, magazines and crew and then tossing them in fragments out the far side with incredible violence. The Chinese ship shuddered and rippled, secondary explosions erupting through the hull as titanic blasts of released energy and volatile chemicals turned the inside of the vessel into a maelstrom.

But even as the dragon marked warship died its agonising death the crew did not simply give up, displaying the same stubborness as their American counterparts. Before central control was lost the Chinese Captain set in motion the warships final act, the words escaping moments before a four inch dart turned the control room into liquid. The shattered vessel rolled hard over to bring its lower guns into play, small thrusters playing their final part releasing geysers of air into the black sky. The Cruiser tipped just far enough for its rearmost turret to take a point blank shot at the Nashville as she limped past, a trio of five hundred ton rounds tearing through the bottom of the US ship near the centre and cutting out the belly of the grey beast.
The hard fighting American cruiser suddenly looked like a tree hit by an axe, a gigantic slice was torn through the ship all but cutting her in half, just a thin sliver of metal on the upper hull attaching the front of the ship to the back. As the engines pushed on the forward hull began to rise, bending backwards in magnificent slow motion as it twisted on the last few structural supports tying the two halves into one unit. Like a whale breaking the surface of an ocean the bow of the Nashville came to stand vertical in relation to the rest of the ship, a million and a half tons of burning, blackened metal raised high like a salute, before it continued its journey and fell towards the aft hull, crushing the main sensor masts and superstructure as it fell back and flattened the rear upper decks.
“Absolutely unbelievable.” Mallory exhaled.
“He did it.” Jane added in equal astonishment.
The Chinese cruiser tore itself apart, the heavily armoured hull fluttering like silk in a breeze as the reactors detonated, flaying metal plates from the skeletal ribs of its internal structure. The dead ship still glowed, internal power cells powering emergency lights adding an eerie semblance of life to the sparking wreck. But it was over, the ship so thoroughly destroyed there had not even been time to evacuate.

“Chinese cruiser is down, minimum power.” Cheyo said. “Looks like the attendant destroyer is heading in to search for survivors.”
“I doubt there’ll be many.” Jane offered. “What about the Nashville?”
“Also barely operating, main and secondary reactors are down.” Cheyo responded. “That last salvo killed her.”
The detritus of the battle was as fascinating as it was brutal, the Nashville essentially folded in two with her bow now touching her engines. The ship was dark and drifting vaguely towards Earth, but if there were any survivors they wouldn’t survive long enough to be picked up by friendly forces from this far away.
“Can you spot any signs of life?” Mallory asked. “Any powered segments in the hull, life pods, suit beacons?”
“Commencing full survey.” She said. “Our main sensors took a beating at Saturn sir, I can’t make promises.”
“Do what you can.” The Commander turned back to the table.
“Hell of a fight.” Jane allowed herself to say.
“Hell of a fight.” Mallory agreed. “He shouldn’t have come close to winning that duel, magnificent bastards.”
“Is… is he still alive?” April asked. “Can anyone survive that?” she gestured at the hardly recognisable form of the US Cruiser.
“I’ve seen people walk out of worse.” Mallory nodded.
“Which raises the question, what if there are survivors?” Jane wondered. “What do we do about it?”
“Well we pick them up.” April stated confidently. “Right?”
“Deep space law, you always help, no matter the risk.” Pete added in confirmation. “You never leave people in trouble out here.”
“We’ll have to match relative speed to pick up survivors, that means at least a three minute engine burn.” Jane mentioned. “If we do that we’ll probably be spotted, which would make this whole escape attempt utterly pointless.”

April shook her head in dawning horror, aghast at Jane’s contradiction. “Hey, wait a minute, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that if we stop for survivors we’ll be picked up by every ship in the area, they’ll see our engines light up and know our course and speed exactly.” Jane voiced. “And then they intercept and kill us.”
“Commander,” Cheyo spoke. “I have distress beacons, mix of suits and life pods, I’d guess about a hundred personnel.”
“A hundred.” Pete repeated. “One hundred lives, brave men and women Commander.”
Mallory nodded. “Brave indeed.”
“Look what they did Commander, look how hard they fought, they deserve better!”
“If we stop it doesn’t matter.” Jane cut in. “If we pick them up it just means they’ll die with us when those Warrior class Destroyers hammer our faces into the floor!”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this!” Pete snarled. “Commander?”
“Where are the Chinese hunters?” He ignored Pete’s wide eyes staring at him.
“Unknown sir, they’re running silent.” Cheyo said. “Could be anywhere.”
“Could be anywhere.” Pete spoke harshly. “Could be a million miles away!”
“Or could be right behind us.” Jane countered. “We can’t take the risk, not with the information we have.”
“Fuck information! These are people we’re talking about! Men and women! Lives!”
“And if we get blasted who’s going to tell the truth about this war? Who’s going to make sure China stands alone and doesn’t suck other nations into war, other lives into a pointless slaughter?” Jane snapped back. “A hundred lives are a small price to pay.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Everything has a cost Peter.” Jane said stiffly. “It just has to be worth it in the end.”

There was a slight beep from across the conn, one Cheyo was swift to give meaning to.
“Chinese destroyer is on the move, the cruiser escort.”
“Appears it didn’t find any survivors.” Mallory sighed. “Pity, the Chinese ship held its nerve well.”
“She’s moving on the Nashville, accelerating to relative speed.”
“She must be preparing to pick up survivors herself.” Jane guessed. “Saves us a job.”
“They’re going to kill them, like they did to the station.” April sneered harshly. “You can’t stand by and allow this!”
“Different units Miss Conroy, these aren’t from the Rings.” Mallory returned calmly. “They’re regular Chinese Navy, and the Nashville never reached Saturn, they don’t know the secret. We’re the only ones.”
“The Geneva convention is still in force.” Jane sided with her superior. “That battle would have been seen from Earth, there are going to be a lot of questions if they don’t show up.”
“Going to be a lot of questions anyway, Chinese and US warships fighting each other.” Mallory considered. “Perhaps they’re already at war.”

“Sir, receiving new telemetry.” Cheyo called out with a hint of puzzlement. “The Destroyer is keeping her distance, she isn’t moving in on the survivors.”
“How far?”
“A thousand kilometres.”
Pete snorted. “I knew it, they’re going to fire!”
“Mr Muller, I refuse to believe a major government would order, in plain sight, the murder of…”
There was a blink of laser fire from the Destroyer, followed by several releases of gas from around the torn hull of the Nashville.
“She just fired on the survivors!” Cheyo half screamed. “They just killed sixteen people in pressure suits!”
There was a second energy blip.
“Eight more!”

Mallory gritted his teeth, a cold fury building in his chest.
“Do you see what they are doing?” Pete was almost shouting in anger. “It’s murder!”
“They are killing helpless people!” April added in desperation. “We have to do something!”
“What can we do?” Jane shouted back. “Anything we try just gives away our position and gets us all killed!”
“So you sit back and do nothing?” Pete clamoured. “What if they were British crew? Would you help then?”
“Don’t even think about turning this around!” Jane growled menacingly. “This is pure logic!”
“Its murder, and you are as good as an accomplice!”
“Don’t you dare accuse me of that!” Jane yelled back. “Don’t you dare!”
“Stand down XO.” Mallory said with an edge of warning in his voice.
“You’d rather save your own ass then help stop a massacre?” Pete scoffed. “What the fuck happened to five hundred years of tradition?”
“If you don’t want to walk home I suggest…” Jane began.
“XO, enough!” Mallory said forcefully. “Bloody hell Lieutenant Commander, what the hell has gotten into you? Remember your place!”
She stiffened her back and pulled back her shoulders. “Aye sir!”
“And you two!” He glared at the reporters. “If you insult the honour of my officers again you can enjoy the journey home from the brig! Am I clear?”
“I just…”
“Am I clear?”
Pete sighed. “Aye, aye Captain.”

 

[Harlock]

“Good.” Mallory nodded. “Now, helm, accelerate to relative velocity with the Nashville.”
Both Jane and Lieutenant Fisher spoke in union. “Sir?”
“Match relative speed.” He repeated. “Don’t make me tell you a third time.”
“Aye sir.” Fisher acknowledged and turned to her staff.
“You know what this means for us sir.” Jane cautioned quietly. “If even one Warrior class ship is out there…”
“I know my friend, I know.” He nodded. “It’s a risk, but look what is happening.”
“Just so you know I object, and if this gets us killed I’m going to head butt you before I die.”
“So noted.” Mallory hid a grin, then turned to the Conn. “Action stations!”
“Action stations!” Jane repeated, grabbing a handset from the table and announcing into the mouthpiece. “All hands man action stations, standby for incoming fire!”
“We’re at close range, don’t bother with ranging shots, load armour piercing!” Mallory called to Cross. “We’ll give him one chance, we are gentlemen after all.”
All about him computers lit up, armament locked for battle, voices barked status reports and cleared the ship for battle.
“Five hundred years of tradition.” Mallory repeated with a glance at Pete. “Upholding that reputation might just cost us our lives.”
“Way I hear it that was the tradition, noble sacrifice for the right cause.” Pete said back quietly.
“Well I didn’t join the Royal Navy for the food. Better hold on, this could always go bad.”

The Amethyst appeared to flicker out of nowhere, her engines flaming into life weakly but still bright enough to tip off everyone within line of sight to her location. The Chinese escort at once went on alert, bringing her own engines online and preparing to fire her main guns.
“What do you make of her?” Mallory indicated towards the opposing vessel.
“Yangtze class escort destroyer.” Cheyo reported. “Eight four inch guns, four missile tubes, single hull, light armour.”
“We’re bigger than her.” Jane smiled, putting her doubts behind her.
“We’ve also taken more of beating than a government minister at a masochist club.” The Commander replied. “She can still kill us, open a channel.”
“Ready.” Lieutenant Thomas stated.
“This is the Royal navy Frigate Amethyst operating as part of the European Union to Chinese vessel.” Mallory bellowed through his headset in a harsh tone, not wanting to be pleasant to an officer who fired on survivors. “You will stand down at once and cease your attacks on helpless survivors, or I will take decisive action!”
“Here’s your answer, missiles inbound!” Jane called. “She’s loading rail guns!”
“Range to target?”
“Eight thousand klicks!” Cross called. “Orders sir?”
Mallory shook his head. “Fuck ‘em, open fire all guns.”
“Aye sir, opening fire.”
“If that’s the way they want to play, let them.”
The point defences made short work of the four missiles, effortlessly gunning them down as the main guns aligned. At this sort of range the advanced sensors of the Frigate combined with the poor ECM of the mass produced cheaply built light destroyer made the question of a hit or miss largely academic. The guns fired in pairs, each salvo streaking into the target with massive force, each strike literally rippling the hull like rain in a puddle, concentric circles expanding over the beleaguered vessel.
The inadequately armoured ship split apart with the third strike, her hull barely above civilian standards and no match for a real warship, even one as specialised as the Amethyst. She burned briefly as reactants ignited, great curls of white and yellow light looping up from the dissolving ship before fading into darkness and cold.

“Target destroyed.” Cheyo confirmed.
“Why can’t they all be that easy?” Jane asked wistfully. “I can’t see evidence of survivors, about forty people on a ship of that type.”
“They shouldn’t have been shooting survivors.” Mallory dismissed. “Did any survive?”
“Yes sir, I’m still reading beacons.” Cheyo reported. “Just over thirty.”
“Fuck” Pete gasped. “Those bastards killed seventy people out here. I’ve never said this before but those fuckers deserved to die.”
“It’s done now.” Mallory said flatly. “Let’s bring them onboard, quickly as possible.”
“Coming to relative stop.” Fisher echoed.
“And Miss Cheyo, the second you see anything on those sensors, shout like hell.”
“Understood Commander, all clear at the moment.”
“If those hunting destroyers are a few light minutes away it’ll take time for them to detect us.” Jane advised. “Bit longer until we see them.”
“With luck they’re so far away that they can’t catch us anyway.” Mallory said. “Not before we hit friendly space.”
“That’s the gamble then?” Pete asked. “That they can’t intercept us even at full burn?”

“It is.” The Commander nodded. “If I’m right, we all get home safe, survivors and all. If I’m wrong the XO head butts me and we all die.”
“So even if it all goes wrong I still get some amusement before I die.” Jane remarked wryly.
“Not exactly an ideal situation but we’re here now, so lets take control of it.” Mallory ordered briskly. “Technically this is a good deed, so maybe karma will reward us.”
“Or maybe it’ll just throw us off a roof for fun like it usually does.” Jane offered an alternative theory.
“Really XO, you need to look on the brighter side of things now and again.”
“Like the head butt?”
“Think brighter.”
“There’s no way were going to survive this sir. In my considered and humble opinion.”
“You always say that, you said it when Cheyo tried cooking.”
“She put forty people in hospital with food poisoning.”
Mallory paused. “Alright, that was probably not the best example.”
“If we live I promise I’ll be very happy, I’ll even wear bright clothes. For a while anyway, a day or two.”
“Good to see you have a reason to live.” He arched an eyebrow. “Still, nothing we can do about it now. We’ll follow the plan and try not to die.”
“That should be our new ship motto.” Jane gave reply. “Sums our lives up nicely.”
“Words to live by.” He stepped back. “I’m going to see the Doc, if you need me I’ll be helping with the rescue.”
“Understood sir.”
“Pray we did the right thing today.”


The recovery opteration proceeded very quickly, the rescue teams from the Amethyst more than aware that time was a critical factor. A dozen crew members poured out of the main hangar bay before the ship fully halted, using thrusters packs to guide themselves past the tangled debris that was slowly falling away from the titanic hull of the Nashville. Up close the vessel was even more massive, it’s six hundred metre hull still imposing, perhaps even more so for the fact it had been folded in half. The fires and energy leaks had been stopped or had simply run their course but there were still thousands of emergency lights within the tattered hull often shining through splits and holes in the outer carcass. Those lights helped guide the EVA teams to powered areas of the ship, the places where survivors could still be found.
To April’s untrained but acute eye the remains of the Nashville evoked the image of a dinosaur, an immense beast that had come to the end of its life, curled up quietly and died. The folded hull reminded her of a thick grey skin, while the damage appeared like great wounds exposing the bone like struts and arterial conduits within. All of these great ships could have been creatures to her, leviathans of the deep or prehistoric monsters of immense girth and power. They didn’t seem like constructs of man operated by those same tiny biological components scattered through the iron beasts. It was hard to remember people lived and died inside these ships, even after her own experience of mortality she still had to separate the reality from the presumption.
She had learned more on this trip than any other time in her life, and not just how to read computers and strap on a pressure suit. She was a different person to the indulgent and vain woman who had left Mars. The face was the same, the DNA was the same, but behind the eyes somebody else had taken up residence. Someone better.

The survivors appeared insignificant, merely specks in front of the grey mountain. They were recovered individually or in small groups, sometimes within escape pods but more often escorted out of the broken hull in sealed pressure suits. In spite of the almost total damage the great ship had endured, damage that had turned it from a proud menacing weapon into an abstract sculpture, people had still survived in nooks and crannies.
It was a sad blow to the EVA teams that most of the escape pods had been shot down by the Chinese destroyer in an act of hate fuelled spite. The Amethyst had recorded the event in crystal clarity and would, with April’s journalistic connections, make the atrocity public. It was some small consolation that the criminals who had perpetrated the act would never have a chance to revel in it.
One by one the survivors were brought aboard, taken through the airlocks and helped down to sickbay for treatment. Within twenty minutes the operation was over, the last soul departed the USS Nashville, leaving behind a warship which had brought great honour and glory to those she represented.

Commander Mallory waited behind the airlock in the superstructure, the last two members of his EVA team guiding in a final survivor of the brave cruiser. He waited until they were safely aboard before pressing down the switch on a wall mounted intercom.
“Conn, this is the Commander. Let’s get going.”
“Sir, Lieutenant Fisher had a request.” Jane’s voice returned. “She wants to fire a grapple wire at the Nashville and use her mass to sling us in a slightly different direction.”
“Sling us?”
“Bit like a gravity slingshot but without gravity.” Jane answered. “We use the wreck as an anchor to build up some speed and set us on a new course without burning our engines.”
Mallory broke a smile. “Tell her it’s a good plan.”
“We’ll alter course by about three degrees, it still puts us in EU space but should throw any bloodhounds off our trail.”
“Make it happen XO, I’m going to see if I can find anything more from our American guests.”
“Speaking of sir, the reporters are heading down to the sickbay as I speak.”
“Fair enough XO, let me know if anything breaks or jumps out of the shadows at us.”

As he was speaking the airlock was finishing its cycle, restoring an atmosphere to the small chamber. The light above the inner door turned green as he finished coupled with a loud clang as the door unlocked and swung open.
“Well done Chief.” Mallory greeted Broome as he twisted the fishbowl like helmet free of his suit. “You have this EVA business down like an expert.”
“That’s what they pay me for sir.” He acknowledged the compliment. “I’m afraid that’s everyone sir, we found a few bodies but with time against us…”
“I understand, we’ll have to leave them to their rest.” He confirmed. “We can give the exact coordinates to the Americans, I’m sure they’ll send a recovery team.”

On that thought he turned to the final survivor who was also awkwardly removing his head gear. He was wearing a pressure suit almost identical to the one Mallory was dressed in designed for the same emergency survival function in the same conditions. The only noticeable difference was that the American suit was pale blue compared to the off white of the European gear. He dragged back the hood to reveal a middle aged man with dark eyes and short black hair peppered with grey. He stood tall and brought his right hand up in salute, under his left arm he held a burned and battered data recorder.
“Captain Steven Lantree, USS Nashville.” Permission to come aboard?”
“Granted with pleasure Captain.” The British officer returned the salute. “Commander Edward Mallory, HMS Amethyst. Good to speak again Captain.”
“Likewise.” Lantree nodded tiredly. “Apologies for the delay, but I’m the last one Comander. I had to be th elast man to leave the Nashville, you understand.” He winced a little
“I understand.” Mallory sympathised. “Are you alright Captain?”
“Took a bit of a tumble.” He reluctantly admitted. “Well, when we pulled a seven G turn I forgot to strap in and ended up hitting a bulkhead face first. Might have broken something.”
“We better let the Doc give you a once over, come on.” Mallory gestured. “After all that you need a sit down.”

He walked beside Lantree through the ship, descending three decks to the medical bay, passing a few crewmen on the way who respectfully stood aside as the officers passed.
“Looks like you had a bit of a brush yourself.” The American noted, observing the fire damage and buckling in the corridors as they travelled through.
“A Destroyer jumped us at Saturn.” Mallory said. “I’m sorry to inform you Captain that the civilian station was destroyed.”
Lantree sighed. “Can’t say I’m really surprised, poor damn assholes. Guess we’ll never know the truth behind that place.”
“We think it was attacked to preserve a secret.” Mallory continued. “We stumbled upon a Chinese fleet in the Rings, not big by inner system standards but easily the better of anything beyond Jupiter.”
“A fleet?” Lantree pricked up his ears. “They kept that quiet, we’ve been watching Chinese activity out here for months and never suspected anything like that.”
“Very well guarded secret. Caught us off guard too.” Mallory agreed. “Important enough to kill the station and enough to have them try to blow us up as well.”

“Civilian stations and neutral warships.” The American Captain turned the news over in his mind. “They’re taking a very big risk there, real high stakes game.”
“That hidden fleet must be crucial to their long term plans.” Mallory shared his thoughts. “My guess would be a strike fleet, something to open up an unexpected front in a future war.”
“War with my country no doubt.” Lantree winced. “We haven’t got much out here, just a few cruisers and light carriers, all the big stuff is in the core preparing for a full scale showdown.”
“A fleet like this could cut through anything you have out here, avoid your main fleets and play merry hell with your supply lines.” Mallory predicted. “Well, it could if nobody knows about it.”
Lantree chuckled. “Guess you kinda blew that big surprise huh? No wonder they want you dead.”
Mallory shrugged in acceptance. “We haven’t been able to raise anyone yet, too much interference.” They turned towards the Sickbay, passing a couple more men. “But this little bit of information could really help the American war effort.”
“So the obvious question, why are you telling me?” Lantree wondered. “I mean sure Europe and the US are friendly, but we aren’t real allies anymore, and your government absolutely hates mine.”
“True, but the way I see it those chaps out there blasted a giant hole in my ship. No one blasts a giant hole in my ship. Consider this a really spiteful form of revenge on behalf of the Amethyst.”
Lantree grinned widely. “I make that two things I have to thank this little lady for. Great little ship.”
“The best.” Mallory nodded.

Outside the sickbay a dozen men and women in grimy and lined American uniform were sat down leaning against the walls, exhausted but not severely injured waiting for one of the orderlies to make sure they had no internal damage. Their eyes were hollow and distant, staring into thin air as each of them remained alone with their own memories and concerns. They had survived, but a great many had not, colleagues, comrades, friends. They all knew people who would not be coming back.
Within the sickbay itself Doctor Farrah was helping a man carefully up from his main operating table, the patient heavily bandaged with special dressings designed to treat burns. Despite his injuries he was well enough to walk and that meant he had to leave, bed space was too valuable a commodity for the walking wounded. At once Lantree forced a smile.
“Nice work Estevez.” Lantree rested a hand on the wounded mans shoulder. “I saw you seal that pressure door by hand, closing it down while the ship burned. You did your family proud son, if they don’t give you a silver star for that I’ll personally stick my boot up the committee’s ass.”
“Yes sir, and thank you sir.” The injured man pushed a smile.
“Go take a seat Estevez, you’ve earned a long rest.”
“Come on then.” Farrah brusquely waved them over. “I’ve got a lot of people to see.”
Lantree broke a smile towards Mallory. “Doctors.”
“Same the world over.” The Commander grinned in return. “Better do as he says.”

Lantree perched himself on the edge of the operating table with a look of wry amusement as Farrah produced a hand held ultrasound machine, a holographic projector displaying images of the Captain’s internal organs.
“Are you in pain Captain?”
“Twinges now and again.” Lantree answered.
“That is because your left arm is broken in three places.”
“Oh.” The Captain raised an eyebrow. “That suddenly explains a lot.”
“You also have two broken ribs and a bruised Pelvis. You’re damn lucky that didn’t break.”
“Gotta admit Doc I’m not feeling very lucky today, all things considered.”
“You’re breathing aren’t you?” Farrah half scolded. “That’s lucky in my book. Now hold still, I’m going to set this bone. It will probably bloody well hurt.”

Lantree glanced around the bay as Farrah prepared his accessories, trying to recognise the faces of those who had made it out. A lot of them were badly injured and under sedation, breathing shallowly often with the help of ventilators. It was a crushing sight to witness, to see strong and vibrant people reduced to such a state.
“I have to ask Commander.” He stared up at Mallory. “How many did you get?”
“Thirty five survivors.” The Commander answered sombrely. “And three of those… well we don’t know if they’ll make it home.”
“They’ll make it.” Farrah interjected. “We got them off the ship and I will not let them die now. If I have to sweat blood I promise they will make it back to a real medical facility.”
“I actually think you would too.” Lantree nodded. “Thank you.”
“You can thank me by staying still.” The Doctor slotted a plastic tube over Lantree’s fore arm, attaching a smaller pipe to it leading to a small metal box.
“Do you have any idea what is happening back home?” Mallory asked. “We’ve been out of the loop for a while now.”

“Nothing concrete, still a hell of a lot of jamming blocking our eyes and ears.” Lantree informed apologetically. “But we did read some energy surges, powerful enough to break the jamming.”
“What kind of surges?”
“At a guess?” Lantree responded. “I’d say nukes.”
The British officer shook his head. “You think a war has begun?”
“Would explain a lot.” He nodded. “We won’t know until we get closer, but it’s beginning to look that way.”
“That’s going to complicate matters.” Mallory chewed on his teeth. “Especially as the main battle zone is probably right in front of us across our path.”
“Figures.” Lantree returned. “Would have been too easy otherwise.”
Farrah activated his machine and a thick white foam began to pump into the tube around Lantree’s arm, drawing a grimace from the officer.
“Hey, little warning would have been nice Doc!”
“Sorry, here.” He tapped a medicinal spray and pressed the device against the Captain’s neck, injecting a bolt of anaesthetic into his bloodstream. “That should handle the pain for a couple of days.”
“That mean I’m done Doc?”
“You’re done, but no heavy work.” Farrah ordered directly. “And put this sling on, keep that arm straight.”
“Thanks Doc, and thanks for taking care of my people.”
“It’s why I’m here. Now off you go, send in the next patient on your way out.”

“Guess I’m done then.” Lantree slid down from the table and joined Mallory again. “How’s your ship holding up?”
“Still in one piece, but we lost a lot of people getting here, makes us a little short staffed.”
Lantree smiled. “Nicely done Commander, very subtle lead in.”
“Yes, I did rather think so myself.”
“Well I guess it’s still a couple of months until we get home, and we should do something to earn our pay.” Lantree mused. “If you want to have your XO draw up a duty roster I think we can lend a hand around here.”
“It would make life easier Captain.” Mallory nodded.
“Well we’re eating your food, sucking your air, we should do a little something to pay our way.”
“Why don’t you join me on the Conn.” Mallory suggested. “I’ll show you our very optimistic plan for survival.”
“Okay Commander, but as soon as the Doc is done I want to check on my people.”
“Naturally.” The Commander agreed. “I’m afraid we’re rather short on space, our crew quarters are mostly orbiting Saturn at the moment. I can make sure your wounded have beds, but for the rest I’m afraid it’s a blanket and a bit of hallway.”
“I doubt you’ll hear many complaints.”
“I can find some space for you of course, being a full Captain…”
“Not necessary Commander, thanks for the offer of course but I’ll take the hallway like the rest of my folks.”
“Of course.” Mallory nodded respectfully. “Not the best of scenarios Captain.”
“Not the best.” Lantree nodded. “Not the worst either.”
“I’m afraid our chances are rather slim.”
“Well that’s always a risk, but we’ll take it.” The older man replied. “Better than no chance at all.”
“My girl still has plenty of life left in her yet.” Mallory smiled. “A little ruffled but still a hell of a lady.”
“Yeah.” Lantree took a moment to rest his hand on a bulkhead, touching the cold metal as if it were a living thing. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Sorry about your ship Captain.” Mallory read his mood. “She looked a good vessel, a thoroughbred.”
Lantree smiled sadly. “She was, they won’t be another like her. I mean sure she has sisters, other vessels in the Miami class, but they’re not like her. I don’t know how or why, but when they put the Nashville together, they made her better. More than the sum of her parts.” He shrugged. “Hard to explain.”
“I know what you mean Captain. Every ship is unique, more than metal and polymers.” He turned his head, seeing the burn marks, the dents and rips, the damage his ship had absorbed on this terrible mission. “They have personality, idiosyncrasies. They act and react to things, sometimes you can tell what is happening just by listening to the sound of the hull or placing your hand against a bulkhead.”
“You could almost think they were alive.” Lantree nodded. “Silly superstition, but you put so much faith in them, so much trust in armour plate and a couple of good engines, hard not to get attached.”
Lantree exhaled a small sigh.
“I’ll miss the old girl, she did us all proud, those who stayed with her and those who didn’t.”
Mallory forced a smile, trying to imagine himself in Lantree’s position and not enjoying the sensation. He had faced the same scenario himself and the fates had been kind, at least they had that once.
“Come on Captain, time to go.”

Mallory headed out of the sickbay and back into the corridor still lined with wounded men and women in their blue pressure suits. Among them were a handful of his own crew offering ration packs and drinks, making some small talk and trying to engage them in conversation. Anything to draw them out of the shock they must all have been coping with.
He stopped in his tracks just outside the entrance, spotting something he had not expected to see. April had made it down from the bridge, coming he had assumed to interview the survivors and turn this battle into a great story. To his pleasant surprise she was instead helping bring rations to the Nashville survivors, all pretence gone, all her front and sheen dropped. She wasn’t a reporter today, and as he watched her gently dab grime and blood from an officer’s face he caught his first glimpse of the true woman behind the barriers of her job.
He had no right to, but he felt proud of her, as if in some way he had helped bring this change in personality out of her. It was perhaps some measure of good born from a litany of tragedy.

Without any word or sound the nearest American crewman began to rise to his feet, awkwardly pushing himself up with clear discomfort and standing carefully on his own two feet. Mallory watched in interest as he wobbled slightly, but straightened up standing crisply to attention. One after the other his comrades began to do the same, still in utter silence, sometimes helping up their more injured or unsteady friends who determined to join them.
They stood there as straight as they could in that dimly lit hallway, covered in dirt, streaked with sweat and blood. Their bodies battered and often broken, minds numb, consciousness only just beginning to touch on the unrelenting terror they had just survived, and take stock of what they had lost.
All of that meant nothing in this moment as they raised themselves up as proud and as tall as any man or woman could be, as if they had just taken on the world and won, the grime of battle fading under the strength in their eyes undimmed by death and carnage.
The closest officer, still without a word, raised his hand in salute. Within moments every single one of them was standing there with finger tips brushing their temples, all focused on the doorway to the Sickbay and the man who had just emerged.
It was hard for Captain Lantree to accept the salute. He had lost his ship and so many of the lives under his command, he did not deserve to be honoured, he did not feel he had earned that right. It took him all his composure not to break down then and there, not allow the tiredness and the pain and the mental hardship to overpower him. He raised himself up with the same determination as his crew and answered the salute with perfect form.
“Officers and men of the Nashville.” He croaked with a failing voice. “You have done everything asked of you, beyond the requirements of the service, the ship and the Nation. You have faced a superior enemy and defeated him, you have faced fear and defeated him, you have faced death and defeated him.”
He managed to look his people in the eye as he spoke to them, the crew lowering their arms as he spoke and giving them their full attention.
“The Nashville is gone, but will never be forgotten. As we live, so she lives, so all our friends live. We are not out of danger yet, and if we must once more face death I know you will not falter before it. This is our ship now, this is our duty, and this is our mission. We’re going home, and we all still have a part to play to get there.”
He gave Mallory a nod of thanks.
“We’re all going home.”