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Battle in the Belt (Stark Raven Voyages Book 3) Page 5
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Joss moved her fingers across the controls in front of her, and invisible radar waves lashed the void of space. She touched a final button and said, "Done."
Liz reacted immediately, goosing the maneuvering thrusters again, changing the Raven's vector one more time.
"Three ships," Joss reported. "Fairly big ones. In a triangle around the station."
Chan scratched his chin. "Could they just be visiting?"
Joss shook her head decisively. "They're a good five kilometers out."
That would be a nice range to scan from, but thoroughly inconvenient for visiting the port. Chan felt his mouth go dry. It was an ambush. "What's our range?"
"Two hundred K and dropping fast," Liz reported crisply.
"Bring us about. Let's make some distance."
The star field spun, then stabilized, as the ship swung around.
"All three ships are lighting us up," said Joss. "They're moving, too."
Liz pulled down on the thrust lever. There was no way to tell by looking through the window, but Chan knew they were surging forward. After no more than five seconds of thrust a loud clang echoed through the bridge. Liz reacted instantly, cutting main thrust and using maneuvering thrusters to jig the ship sideways.
"Two ships firing lasers," Joss reported.
"That was no laser strike," Chan snapped.
Liz muttered a curse. "I think it's safe to say one of them has a rail gun." She peered at her screen. "A glancing shot, apparently. We might have a dent, but we're intact. The paint will need touching up."
The bridge door hissed open and Marcus came through. "What was that noise? Did we hit something?"
"Someone was waiting for us at Andromeda One," Chan told him. "We don't know who yet. Get into a vac suit, please."
Marcus stared at him, his face going pale. Then he hurried from the bridge.
"Lasers are still firing," said Joss. "They don't seem to be hitting us. I can't tell if the rail guns are going or not."
Chan scowled. The Raven had rail guns of her own, but no ammunition. The ship had a small laser, but using it would pinpoint their location with appalling accuracy.
"They know about where we are," said Liz calmly. "Roughly but not precisely. They can't actually hit us unless we use the engines or the radar." She tapped her screen and the star field ahead of the ship began to slide sideways. "The rate of fire picks up when I use thrusters. No way to tell how close they're coming."
The bridge door opened and Marcus came through, wearing a vac suit and helmet with the faceplate retracted. He had three more vac suits in his arms. Rhett was on his heels, metal arms cradling three helmets. The two of them took unobtrusive positions at the back of the bridge.
Chan looked at Joss, opened his mouth, and she said, "You first, Captain." There was a stubborn look in her eyes, so he acquiesced, taking a folded suit from Marcus's arms. They were short-duration suits without invasive plumbing fixtures. He kicked off his boots and pulled the padded suit on over his clothes.
"Are we in much danger of a hull breach?" Marcus asked quietly.
Chan zipped the suit up to his neck. "Hard to say. There are three ships hunting us. They're all armed. We'll do our best to slip away." He gestured at the ship around them. "The Raven's good at that."
Marcus nodded as Chan took a helmet from the robot. Chan dropped into a seat, set the helmet on the console beside him, and used a retractable cord at his waist to clip the helmet to his suit. The last thing he needed in the chaos of a hull breach was to have to chase down his helmet.
As Joss suited up, Chan leaned close to Liz and murmured, "What do you think?"
Liz didn't lift her eyes from her display. "They've got pretty good radar." A buzzer sounded, Liz tapped her screen, and the stars pivoted. "Singed us with a laser," she explained.
Joss took her station, and Chan leaned back in his seat, trying to project confidence. "They can't seem to hit us," he said. "We're good for the moment, at least. What are our options?"
It was Liz who answered, her voice grim. "They know about where we are. They're moving to keep us more or less surrounded. And they react quickly." She gestured at the throttle. "If I touch the engines again, they'll fry us with lasers. We might dodge the rail guns, but they can auto-target us, and lasers shoot at the speed of light, after all."
"All right. Running is out. Can we give them the slip?"
Liz shrugged. "It isn't working so far. Maybe they'll make a mistake, though."
"I wish I knew who it was," Joss complained. As if in answer, a light flashed on her console. She tapped buttons, gave Chan a startled look, then touched her screen.
A cold baritone voice filled the bridge. "Stark Raven. We have you surrounded. You cannot escape. Heave to or be destroyed."
Responding was out of the question. A radio transmission would pinpoint them.
"Stark Raven. I repeat, you are surrounded. You are outnumbered and outgunned. Surrender is your only option."
Liz blew a raspberry in the general direction of the bridge speakers.
"If you co-operate, you will not be harmed. You are harboring a fugitive criminal. I am prepared to assume that you are not willing accomplices. Marcus Drinkwater is a terrorist and a murderer. You will turn him over to us and he will face justice. Otherwise, we'll cut your ship into several large pieces and rid the solar system of the whole lot of you. Either way, justice will be served."
The man went silent, and the four of them looked at one another. Only Rhett gazed, unperturbed, at the bulkhead in front of him.
"Well," Chan said, "someone who's not actually after us." He grinned. "That's refreshing."
"We can't turn him over," Liz said. "We can't just hide him and let them search the ship, either. They'll be committing piracy, and we'll be witnesses. They can't let us fly away."
Chan nodded. "I take your point." He replayed Liz's words in his mind. A niggling thread of an idea was teasing him, dangling just out of reach at the back of his brain.
"Much as I'd like to do the right thing," Marcus said, "I fear she's right. It's not true, by the way."
"What's not?" Chan said.
"I'm not a terrorist. Criminal, well, that's a matter of perspective. The terrorist charge, though, is nonsense. The fundamentalists made that up after the Dorado atrocity to discredit us. Someone had to be accused of terrorism. They wanted it to be us, not them."
"Whatever," Chan said. "You've been helping us, they're shooting at us. That's all I need to know." He looked at the others. "More to the point, what can we do, now that we know we're not surrendering?"
Joss, her voice thoughtful, said, "I think I might have an idea." She looked at Liz. "Be ready to dodge, okay? I'm going to call him back." She looked at the two men. "The rest of you, keep quiet."
Before Chan could object, she touched a button and spoke. "Mysterious captain," she said. "This is Joss Abercrombie of the Stark Raven. I won't surrender until I have some assurances that you're not pirates."
Liz, her fingers poised over the thruster controls, gave her a look of incredulous rage. She didn't interrupt, though.
The speakers crackled. "I understand, Ms. Abercrombie. My name is Wittenberg. Captain Rolf Wittenberg of the Golden Cross. I command the battle fleet of the Defenders of the Flock."
Chan rolled his eyes. More religious nuts. Just what we need. When he looked back down, Liz was staring at him, gesturing at her screen. Chan looked at his own display. The three hunting ships had turned their transponders on, and he read the names. Golden Cross, Sword of the Saviour, and David's Sling.
"As you can see, Ms. Abercrombie, we are not pirates. The terrorist Drinkwater blames us for the bombing of Iscariot Station. He's coming to Andromeda One looking for revenge. We intend to stop him before he commits an outrage."
"An outrage?" snapped Liz. "You mean like space piracy?" Chan scowled at her, and she reddened, but looked unrepentant.
"We are not pirates." Wittenberg bit off each word with cold anger. "We a
re men dedicated to protecting our homes. We will do whatever it takes to keep our families safe." His voice became, if possible, even colder. "Whatever. It. Takes."
"Now, hold on," Joss said. "The last thing I want is a bomb on my ship. Or a lunatic bomber, for that matter. This Drinkwater guy is in his cabin. We're going to put him in restraints. Stand by. We'll let you know when we have him secure." She cut the connection and swivelled her seat around.
"We're not handing him over," Liz said. "He saved you on Xiao Station, remember?"
"Yes, I bloody well remember," Joss snapped, and Chan jumped in his chair. He'd never seen her angry before. "What the hell do you take me for?"
Liz went silent. She looked abashed, which was as startling as seeing Joss angry.
"Now." Joss sounded calm enough, but there were spots of color in her cheeks. "Does anyone know anyone on Xiao?"
Chan said doubtfully, "Well, there's the refugees from Iscariot. And Gavril and Philomena. They might still be there."
"No, wait." Joss turned to Liz. "Who was it who told you someone was looking for us?"
"Phillip," said Liz. "I played cards with him. He works in traffic control on Xiao."
"Perfect," Joss said. "I'm sending him a tight-beam message."
Chan watched, mystified, as she put a message through to Xiao Station. They were close enough to the station that the lag was barely noticeable. She chatted briefly with a bored-sounding woman, then asked for Phillip.
"You're in luck," the woman said. "He's just come on shift. I'll patch you through."
"Hello?" said a reedy voice. "This is Phillip."
"Hi, Phillip, this is Joss Flanagan. I'm on the Stark Raven with Liz. I think you played cards with her recently?"
"Oh, right." His voice warmed up. "She got Marcus to punch a guy for her."
Chan looked at Liz. Liz shrugged.
"So, Phillip," Joss continued. "Those people who were looking for us. Have they turned up?"
There was an edge of excitement to Phillip's voice as he replied. "Oh, yeah. Have they ever! It's a ship—"
"Hang on," Joss interrupted. "I'm going to encrypt this." She tapped at her screen.
Chan leaned to one side so he could peer past her at her screen. He murmured, "Joss? I'm not sure that—"
Joss silenced him with a peremptory wave of her hand. "Okay, Phillip, are you still there?"
"I'm here, Miss Flanagan."
"Just Joss, please. Okay, tell me about that ship."
"It's huge," he said, warming to the subject. "It's a warship, basically. There's four gun turrets on it. I don't even know what she's packing, but she's not built for cargo, I'll tell you that much. She's called the Custer."
Chan made a note on his console. He would research the ship later. It would be nice to know who was chasing them.
"She sounds like something," Joss said. "Maybe I'll get to see her in person."
"Not a good idea," Phillip said. "Believe me, you don't want anything to do with this baby."
"Eh." Joss shrugged. "I'm not too worried. They're looking for the Stark Raven. We're not aboard her any more."
"No?" said Phillip. "That's too bad. She was a sweet ship."
"That she was," Joss agreed. "Too many people looking for her, though. We sold her to some poor sucker on Andromeda One and booked passage on another ship." She lowered her voice. "Keep an eye out for a boat called the Golden Cross. If it stops in at Xiao Station I'll look you up."
"Call me first," Phillip said. "I'll tell you if the coast is clear." A note of doubt entered his voice. "Better send me a private message, though. I'll give you my codes. It's a lot more secure than encrypted radio."
"Roger that," Joss said. "Thanks, Phillip."
"No problem. I better get back to work now, though."
Joss closed the connection and turned to the others with a smug expression.
"You want the Custer to intercept that," Chan said. "So they'll fly over here and start shooting at the Golden Cross?" He shook his head. "You have a devious mind. I'm glad you're on my side."
Liz nodded her agreement. "Do you think it worked?"
"We'll know in a little while," Chan said. "Meanwhile, what do we do now?" He gestured at the ceiling of the bridge, in the general direction of the hunting ships.
"See if we can keep stalling?" Joss said.
A buzzer sounded, and Chan dropped his eyes to his screen. "Low-level laser pulse," he reported. "They're letting us know they can hit us."
Wittenberg's voice echoed through the bridge. "Time's up, Stark Raven. Prepare to be boarded. Any movement of your ship will be taken as a sign of hostile intent. Don't make me destroy you."
"They're moving in," Liz reported.
"Let's not make it easy for them," Chan said, and Liz touched her screen, then hauled back on the throttle for the starboard maneuvering thruster. The laser alarm gave a brief, shrill bleat, then went silent.
Liz's fingers danced on the controls, and the stars swooped and twisted. A low metallic clang told of another glancing shot from a rail gun round. After half a dozen quick adjustments Liz lifted her hands from the controls. The stars were going past left to right, which told Chan the ship was moving laterally.
"They're closing in," Joss reported. "Lasers blasting away. Tell me when you're going to maneuver again and I'll take a quick shot or two. They make much better targets than we do."
"Damn it," Liz said, staring into her screen. "The closer they get, the harder it is to hide. Get ready, Joss." She opened and closed her fists several times, then said, "Now!"
Joss touched her screen, Chan heard a low hum from aft as the laser fired, and Liz slapped her hands down on the controls. A metallic rattle told Chan they'd moved through a stream of rail gun fire, and he brought up a damage report. The hull was intact, but he cringed to think about what the outside of the ship might look like.
"Well, I singed him," Joss said. "Don't know if it did any good."
"They're converging below us," Liz said. "We've evaded them, but they're coming in faster than we're moving away." She looked at Chan helplessly.
He nodded his understanding. She couldn't accelerate. The pursuing ships would see the engine heat. The closer those ships came, the greater the likelihood the Raven would be spotted. He looked at the bulk of the Raven around him, and for the first time he wished the little ship was even smaller. If she was half the size, they'd never spot her. If she was even smaller…
The idea seemed to drop full-formed into his brain. His subconscious had clearly been working hard during the long, tense minutes of the chase. He straightened in his chair, his mind racing as he examined the plan from every angle. There were problems with it. Serious ones. But…
"Listen up," he said. "We're going to abandon ship." He twisted around in his chair and faced the robot at the back of the bridge. "Except for you, Rhett. I've got some special instructions for you."
# # #
The robot proved to be a smooth and competent pilot. He sat at the controls, waiting with inhuman calm, as Chan slowly bled the air from the bridge. Ship's gravity was at twenty percent. He opened the docking port in the ceiling and let himself sink back to the floor.
Chan looked at the others. Liz gave him a sullen glare through the faceplate of her helmet. She didn't think much of his plan. Joss gave him a thumbs-up. Marcus just shrugged.
"Okay, Rhett," Chan said. "We're ready."
The robot responded instantly, pulling the ship up and around. He accelerated sharply, touched the maneuvering thrusters, and said, "Now."
Chan leaped straight up. His hands caught the rim of the docking ring and he popped out into empty space. The others burst through right behind him, one after another. Chan craned his neck, trying to look in every direction at once. He couldn't see the pursuing ships, couldn't see the laser beams or fast-moving rail gun rounds that had to be slashing through the vacuum all around him. He wouldn't see the shot that hit him. The transfer of energy would be tremendous. He'd be
dead in an instant.
When he looked back at the Raven, he saw nothing but an empty field of stars. Rhett had jinked the ship away, drawing the enemy fire away from the four humans in their flimsy vac suits. Cold fingers of fear tightened in Chan's stomach. He'd been in space for most of his life. He'd thought himself immune to agoraphobia. But now, with the only friendly ship in ten thousand kilometers lost from sight and unlikely to return, he found he was wrong.
The gulf of space seemed to dance and spin beneath his boots, and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to control his breathing. He had to stay calm, or at least appear calm, for his crew.
The crew! He opened his eyes, twisting his body as he scanned the vacuum around him. Where were the others?
He saw Liz's familiar blue vac suit a dozen meters away, and much of the fear left him. He was still in the same desperate danger he'd been in a moment before, but he was no longer alone. He saw Marcus's vermillion suit tumbling along just beyond Liz. There was no sign of Joss, but Liz gestured behind him and flashed him an "Okay" sign.
When his breathing was under control he rolled his shoulders in his suit and tried to let go of some of the tension in his muscles. The plan, mad though it was, was working. They would maintain radio silence for several more minutes while Rhett led their pursuers ever farther away. Eventually they might use their belt thrusters, very sparingly, to keep together. Marcus would finally be able to stop spinning.
In the meantime, there was nothing to do but drift. Chan ran through the plan in his mind. If Rhett had done his job properly, the ship would have been racing toward Andromeda One when the four of them made their exit. They would continue to hurtle toward the station now.
Relative velocity had been impossible to calculate, not while the ship dodged and spun. If they were moving too slowly, they would run out of air before they arrived. That thought triggered a fear response in Chan, speeding up his breathing and making the problem worse. He fought for control, chiding himself for his foolishness.
On the other hand, they might be moving so quickly that they'd reach the station in a few minutes. In that case, they would burn through all the fuel in their belts in a futile attempt to brake. Then they'd tumble past the station and die in the vast cold emptiness beyond. Or crash right into the station itself, if Rhett's aim had been uncommonly good.