Angeleyes - eARC (17 page)

I figured he was saying that onpurpose to reassure them. I knew he wasn’t going to kill any bystanders he didn’t have to, but they wouldn’t know that.

I just stood there, slowly recovering from two days of abuse, drinking water, watching five people completely bash a ship. Mira took the astro console and started keying and loading. Juan watched time and made notes. The others took the prisoners aft.

They were back shortly.

“Okay, let’s do it,” Roger said. He waved and I followed with the rest. Down two, aft two, out-starboard one. It was the emergency hatch.

Bast slapped some sort of mechanical linkage to a padeye and hooked it down. The other end connected to the hatch’s grip handle.

I couldn’t believe we were egressing through the escape hatch while in station, and that there wasn’t some sort of alarm glaring on someone’s board.

“And out we go. Angie, lead the way please.”

I wiggled my butt into place and slide down the chute. I landed between the ways under the ship, then had to move fast to avoid being squashed as Sebastian came down.

“Fastest way out, walking like we’re on a bust,” Juan said.

I gestured ahead and he did so.

He led, I was second and offered occasional directions.

“How long do we have?” I asked.

“About three more minutes before they lock.”

Roger came alongside.

“You’re still walking stiff. Okay for now?”

“I can walk, yes. I can’t dance, lift loads or do anything complicated.”

“Good.” He stepped ahead of us.

“This way,” he said, and he led the way.

I was jealous that he knew his way around. It felt like he was cutting into my job. But I couldn’t know every route in every station, and they’d had time.

Shortly, we were at a standard docking ring. Jack attached some sort of device, punched a code, and the lock popped. Pressure was just different enough for a whuff of air.

I followed Jack through, and had a braintwist moment.

“This is the
Pieper
,” I said.

“Undocking and departing in ten minutes,” Juan said as he moved past me.

They were crazy fuckers.

“How?”

“Too long to explain.”

I asked the next question.

“So why did we risk ourselves on that ship?”

“They’re looking for us there now, and assuming we can’t use this one. If we pulled the docs right, this reads as sold at auction. Actually, we sold it to one of our own cover outfits.”

I said, “But anyone here knows it wasn’t.”

“Here, yes, but others might not.”

“‘Might’?”

“Nothing’s guaranteed in war, lady.”

Mira said, “And right now, our IFF is telling everyone we’re a completely different ship, which was in airdock and was due out tomorrow.”

“So you programmed . . . whichever ship that was to respond with passable comments?”

With a single shake of her head, she said, “Nope, not at all. They’re running silent. That complicates their response.”

“Hopefully they don’t just blow it up.”

She shrugged. “Unlikely, but if they do, it’s not our war crime.”

I guess I understood that, and it was war, but wow.

The rest of the crew came from somewhere. I gave Shannon a glance as he walked past, and he said, “Your cubby behind the Backy shop. I had to leave a couple of guns there. They’re probably going to toss his place.”

“Only if you left them in the open . . . how do you know about that place?”

“No, they’re well-hidden, but I anonymously told the cops where.” He waved a stick.

“Huh. He’s an asshole anyway.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “I have the file of your interrogation. I won’t read it but it is stored for archive and we’ll destroy it as soon as we can. I think Mo managed to wipe their copy before we left.”

“Thanks,” I said. But even assholes like Tad didn’t deserve UN Fed attention.

I hit my rack and strapped down, and we were shoving off. I didn’t know if they’d hacked a system or bribed someone, but we were out.

Only, ships don’t move fast near stations. If they went to full drive, the distortion would really rip local astrogation, and get a real quick military or Space Guard response, and Sol Space Guard did mount cannon and missiles. I don’t know if they’d used them in years at that point, but they could slag us to debris.

And if we moved slow, we were easy to intercept with that same response, once they figured out what happened.

Only, the hijacked ship, the
Montrose
, was keeping commo silence. First that confused everyone, then it got an emergency alert.

The commo was full of chatter, asking for data from any ship, asking
Montrose
to respond, calling Space Guard to pursue and rescue, reassuring
Montrose
there was help coming.

Mira had a disturbingly sexy grin.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I think they’re figuring out it’s plotted for the military terminal.”

“That’s . . . about three Earth hours, right?”

She nodded. “So they’ll be trying to reach it from both ends. That keeps them busy.”

“If they don’t decide it’s a suicide run and slag it.”

I didn’t find that grin sexy anymore. She was aroused, and amused, by risking a shipful of innocent trampers we’d hijacked with false ID and guns. I guess they were my people, even if I didn’t know them personally. To her, they were just a tool.

I knew, if the UN would tie me down, half drown me, zap me, club me and toss me in a cell, they’d blow those poor people away. That’s if they even knew someone was aboard.

“This is wrong,” I said.

Next to me, Teresa said, “Angie, it’s war. I’m sorry it’s hard on you.”

“Yeah,” I said. I guess it’s useful to look at it like that. I was still struggling with it.

Shannon came on. “Departure plotted, we’re in the slot, we’ll deviate in a few hours but we’re solid for now.”

I unlatched, stretched, and lay there for a moment.

Teresa slipped across the deck and eased her way onto my rack. That was . . .

A hug.

“How are you recovering?”

I said, “Hell, I’m still in pain and feel disgusting. I need a shower.”

“I don’t think you should yet,” she said.

“Yeah, you think they’ll chase?”

“They will,” she said.

I hadn’t touched anyone in weeks. It did help. I gripped her shoulder. Her hair was rubbing with mine.

“You’ll get grubby just touching me,” I said.

“We’re all a mess, don’t worry about it.” But she rolled to her feet and went off to do something.

CHAPTER 21

I guess I fell asleep. I woke up, checked the terminal, and it was an hour later.

The rescue bands still had talk about the
Montrose
but much less. There was a military gunboat shadowing them, and some sort of intel boat, and the Space Guard.

We were holding low thrust with intermittent emgee.

Shannon announced, “Rotate for food and hygiene. Keep it brief, buddy nearby. Angie, Teresa, go.”

I grabbed a clean brief and coverall, and went to the head, Teresa following. She waved me in first, and I spent three segs getting really clean. It felt a lot better, and some of the ick washed away with the actual dirt. The drain bubbled brown with dust and crud. We’d done a job on ourselves.

I got out in the shipsuit, she moved right past me and in, naked. She didn’t have the gym-rip Mira had, or the men, but she was still in really good shape. If I was more into women, and she wore skintight over that in a club, I’d have thought about taking her home. I had with women, once or twice, if I was really tense. And once I was just really turned on. I thought about it, if we’d had privacy and she’d offered. I wanted human flesh, not synthskin toys, especially as all I wanted was human warmth.

I went forward and made up sandwich wraps in instant seal packs with heaters, and bulbs of soup. That would keep things safe from spills or burns even if we had to maneuver.

I delivered a tub of them to the C-deck.

Jack said, “And they’ve remoted into
Montrose
and have control Looks like they had a remora punch into the power section and backdoor it. They should be safe now.”

I didn’t feel good even then. I figured those poor crew were going to get interrogated until someone figured out they were victims. It wasn’t us doing it, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

Juan said, “So, they’ll know where we are now, as in, which vessel. That’s further than I thought we’d make it.”

And I wondered what was next. If this was further than he thought, what had he planned?

“Well, we’re queued to jump,” Mira said. “In less than twenty minutes, it will get harder for them.”

Just because UN BuSec could deduce which ship we were on didn’t mean it happened at once. We made the jump back to NovRos, with almost empty racks, and then had the problem of what to do. Docking would mean we’d have to abandon ship and disperse. Not docking would draw attention shortly. I also wasn’t clear on where we could go once positively IDed.

We hung back and boosted slowly, but that was only delaying the inevitable.

“What do we do when?” I asked Mira.

“That’s why I’m saving reaction mass now.”

“Ah. Got it.”

We were going to run. The question was where.

And it was right then that NovRos Jump Control pinged us.

“
NCA Pieper
, please assume following vector.” There was the beep of received nav code.

Juan said, “They have us. Prepare for silent running and minimal signature. C-deck, Galley, Head and Bunks. Everything else cold. Sebastian, can you hear me back there?”

“I got you, Captain.”

Juan said, “As we discussed,” then clicked for shipwide. “All hands to command deck.”

The techs and Dylan came forward only seconds later. A disciplined crew was a good thing. I wondered what was going on.

A moment later, Mira and Sebastian had sidearms out. They were at opposite corners of the space. They were aiming at Dylan.

Juan said, “I need to be sure. Comment?”

Dylan looked at them, completely cold. “I don’t think I have one.”

“How long?”

“All along,” he said. “The best way to fight a grossly unfair system is from inside.”

Juan almost seemed angry. “Oh, god and goddess, not that crap. There’s enough of it on the propagandacasts.”

“Maybe you should consider that ninety-nine percent of humanity is right.”

Juan raised his eyebrows and asked, “Anything else?”

Dylan said, “You do have to consider that—”

Juan gave a fractional nod, and they shot him, chest, chest and head. He flailed to the deck and lay in a puddle of lumpy blood.

“Shannon, Teresa, check his stateroom, carefully. Jack, clear the deck. Angie, can you assist?”

“Yes,” I said briefly. I didn’t want to talk. I’d just seen a court martial and execution take place in twenty seconds. They’d rescued me. They’d shot him.

“UN plant,” Juan explained, but I’d already guessed. “He’s why we’ve had several targets displace. And how you got taken.”

“Why are we still alive?” I asked, as I grabbed a sorbpack from a spill kit and kicked it around the spreading pool. It turned pink and the pool turned to trails of drops.

“I think they wanted to get intel on other units. Which is part of the reason why we generally don’t interact with them.”

“He didn’t fight,” I said, watching the blood suck up into the crystals.

“No point.”

That was disturbing. He’d been completely fatalistic, and they’d wanted just enough confirmation to kill him where he was. I suppose he couldn’t carry any obvious defense around his own buddies, and starting a fight wouldn’t have made any difference with their training. He could have killed me in seconds, or any normal ship crew, but the team were as uber as he was. He’d have lost regardless.

It felt cold and vicious to stuff his limp flesh into a trash bag and haul it aft. Once there, Jack took charge. He stuffed the body into a fluid tub, went to a tool kit and pulled out a large brush tool, and started whacking off chunks of limbs. I felt nauseous and saw everything through a green tinge.

“He was how I got caught?” I asked.

Jack said, “We think so. First you, then the rest of us. They seem to have had several overlapping plans to either find if we have other elements, or to stop us if they didn’t get better leverage.”

“Do you need me further?” I asked. I wanted away from the scene.

Her gave me a sympathetic look. “Just for washup. I’ll handle this part.”

“Okay,” I said.

It was revolting, and I couldn’t turn away. Hack, hack, hands. Hack, hack, feet. Forelimbs and upper limbs took the saw blade. His neck had to be chopped, sawed and pried to separate it. Each piece, Jack fed into the recycler.

I helped hose out the blood and some assorted bits of flesh, and some other, less pleasant fluids. Then I went to my rack and kept a light on all night. I didn’t sleep.

I understood what had happened and why. It terrified me how matter of fact it had all been. Identify mole, confirm, shoot dead, dismember, feed into recycler, wash off, and get dinner. Jack had gotten dinner, that is. I didn’t.

Then I realized Dylan had risked his own life to stop us. Even if he was an enemy plant, he had guts. That, and staring down the guns that were going to end his life, and did.

Juan had even said, “We’ll need to see if we can pick up a replacement on some leg. Make sure he’s demanifested when we dock.”

Teresa said, “NovRos, at least, makes that easy. I’ll make his pay disappear from the account, we can cash it for extra goods, and he debarked to go visit family, looking for another leg. No, we don’t know.”

Wow. They were even going to spend his pay. Well, it wasn’t really his pay, but . . .

Vicious.

CHAPTER 22

We were still wanted, though, and it’s hard to hide a ship anywhere near other ships or habitats.

We’d ran dark. They knew we’d pulled out, and they probably had a rough idea we were “those” people. About that, I still had no idea why we were still in the same ship.

Shannon said, “Pressure protocols, there is some risk.”

“What are we doing?” I asked. I was on my way back to my rack to strap in and watch vid until something happened. Or, I was going to pretend to watch vid so no one knew I was ready to scream about the likelihood we were going to be glowing vapor soon.

“Dead zone from a previous engagement. I’ve got the ephemeris. There’s a bunch of debris from both target and intercept. We’re going past it.”

“Do we know who the target was?”

“No one you know, but yes, one of our other clandesties. They’re gone. They did make the UN pay.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I said. They’d lost friends, I could tell.

“Thanks.”

So we drifted through unsafe volume while wondering if we’d eat tungsten shot or gammas. I figured Earth was going to mine every approach that could be a problem. I just wondered what they’d do with all that loose debris later.

War got unsexy very fast.

“We have pursuit,” Mira reported. “Astern, not crossing. Harder for them to catch us, easier to shoot us.”

I felt what I call combat cold. It wasn’t the first time I felt it, but it was the first time I noticed it. My mind, emotions and hormones just shut down. There was nothing I could do, and whether I lived or died depended entirely on what others did. So I felt nothing.

Juan kept up chatter about schedule and plans. I think it was to keep the rest of us occupied. He couldn’t be that concerned with them like this.

We were under steady drive, at near G acceleration. That wastes a lot of fuel, but it moves you places fast. I didn’t think this old beast could do that for long, and it certainly couldn’t go much higher unless we cut the cargo train loose.

Deep space combat can be slow. They didn’t want to launch until we were positively IDed, or positively refused signal. They pinged and pinged, and we ignored them. It was three hours, us at 1 G, them at more. First they had to match velocity, then they had to exceed to close the gap, then they had to plot intercept for missiles.

“
NCA Pieper
, you are ordered to cut thrust and cooperate with boarding for inspection.”

Mira was all over her screens, both viewing and flat. Figures scrolled as she wrote across it.

“We’re not going to make the Jump Point in time to slam them,” she said.

Juan shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t going to work more than a couple of times anyway. Plan B it is.”

“On it.”

He and Mira cut thrust and coasted.

“
NCA Pieper
, you are complying, but we are not receiving responses. If you are receiving this signal, please indicate with a double-tap of thrust, then resume free flight.”

They sat and watched the seconds tick by. Three full minutes later, Juan burped the engines.

“
NCA Pieper
, understood on commo problems. Please continue to follow instructions and we will assist with repair.”

“Are they Navy or Space Guard?” I asked.

“Navy.”

It made a legal difference. Space Guard had law enforcement status. They had limited rules of engagement for shooting. A UN naval vessel could shoot under laws of war if they felt threatened for any reason. We needed to make them feel safe.

I realized later that everyone had been milling about prepping various things in their duty stations, and sorting gear. I warmed rat packs for everyone, and made sure they stayed hydrated. I even monitored fluid levels through the head usage.

“Juan, Mira, Sebastian, you all need to drink a half liter or better.”

Juan looked at me.

“Thanks. I appreciate you monitoring. We’re going for half that at present, but will catch up on the rest later.” He grabbed the two bulbs I held, snapped the top off one as he handed the other to Mira, and sipped it.

It was another two hours before the UN craft was in proximity, and they did all the maneuvering, since they thought we were helpless.

“I think that’s close enough,” Mira said.

Juan said, “Then Plan B it is.”

They cleared the deck so fast I wasn’t even sure they’d all been here.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“You’re staying here,” he told me. “Do you trust me?”

That was a silly question, but asked that way, was scary. “Yes?”

“We’re going to have to confront them. They might board. Don’t argue or fight. Try to keep them talking before boarding and after. Commo is about to function again. We’ll be back. You’re noncombatant,” he said.

“Oookay.”

Mira engaged some program or other, and they followed the rest aft.

I had no idea what was going on.

Warning buzzers sounded angrily. I didn’t know what to do with them, and I got the impression it was planned.

There was a faint shift in the atmosphere, that you get in any small ship when there’s bay or lock evacuation and transfer. Then I saw a very clear display that said the maintenance tug had launched.

I wondered who was aboard, or if they’d all tethered onto it. They wouldn’t fit inside.

They wouldn’t want me captured. My intel was important. I knew that. They wouldn’t just leave me to die. I was a lot more use alive. Right?

I was. They’d even blasted their way in to recover me.

I fought off a wave of panic.

The ship was in trajectory, and there was nothing to collide with. Worst case, I could bleat a mayday and someone would salvage the ship and save me. Supplies on board would last me for months. Someone would want a half billion marks or credits of ship and cargo.

There was no reason for anyone to vaporize it.

I sat and shivered, and my eyes got wet. I had no idea what was happening.

Then commo came on. “
NCA
Pieper
, are there any crew aboard? Emergency broadcast from UNS
Scrommelfenk
, over. Navire Commercial Alsacien
Pieper
. . .” the respondent repeated in dialect.

I found a headset, and replied, “
Scrommelfenk
, this is
Pieper
, Angie leBlanc, Officer on Watch, over.” Well, I was.

“
Pieper
, do you need assistance? We show reactor irregularities and craft launch, over.”

So, Juan had said to keep them talking.

“We’re functional, over,” I replied. I hoped it was true.

“Can you explain the EVA launch, over?”

“I really can’t. That’s not my department. Sorry. Over.”

“Is your captain or engineer available? Over?”

“They are not available at present, over.”

“Officier leBlanc, your responses suggest you’re being deliberately deceptive. Please tell me in clear language your ship’s current status, or I’ll have to treat this as a potential piracy. Are you under duress? Over.”

I was definitely under duress, but not the way they thought. Still, I was to keep talking.

“I am not under duress. Our current status is in flight, in system. I’m commercial crew, not rated for astrogation. We don’t have a big enough command crew for that. Everything I was told to watch looks nominal. Over.”

Nothing followed for a while. I grabbed a food bar and a Coke, and turned on lights and music. I was alone in a ship I couldn’t pilot with commo I could just barely use, in empty space near an enemy warship. How the fuck did I get here?

I sat there watching the chrono scroll, the trajectory numbers change, and the sensor screen show a large ship and a bunch of nothing. I was afraid to leave. I needed to use the head bad, but didn’t. I was completely mentally numb.

I jumped and almost went bejeebus. There were clanging, clanking thumping noises from the crew lock, and a moment later, it cycled fast. Someone had dumped atmosphere to get in quickly. The hatch swung, and four troops in armored V-suits burst through looking like clowns, but I was sure it was an intentional maneuver.

One of them, I wasn’t sure which, said, “Please keep your hands where we can see them. Identify yourself.”

I raised my hands. “Angie leBlanc, Officer on Watch.”

Then I was grabbed, twisted to the deck and bound in cuffs. They checked the pressure, checked me with a flash of light, and started doffing helmets.

One of them reached the commo console and started swiping buttons.

“Sir, this is Bernard One, we’re aboard, over.”

We were close enough for a video connection. Juan appeared onscreen.

“How convenient,” he said.

“Who are you, over?”

“Juan Gaspardeau, Freehold Military Forces. I have seized this vessel in combat operations.”

How the fuck had he done that? From a maintenance tug? Had he hacked their commo, or . . . ?”

The lieutenant immediately said, “I have your crewwoman.”

“I have your captain,” Juan replied, waving the camera over. He held a pistol. The captain looked ashamed and livid. Behind him I saw Sebastian and Mira. “Are you seriously proposing to exchange a cargo-grunter for a ranking officer?”

The lieutenant flapped his arms in confusion. “What, then?”

“Surrender at once.” Juan sounded so reasonable. God, I loved the man. Had he really captured a capital ship?

“I can’t do that.”

“I have not killed anyone I didn’t need to. I would like to maintain that standard. If you harm her, you lose an officer.”

“Sir, what do I do?” he asked his captain on the screen.

Juan answered him. “You have our ship. We have your much more valuable ship. We can destroy you in that ship if you don’t comply. Per Geneva Conventions and Mars Accords, I am not initiating violence against anyone who has surrendered or been detained. If you initiate violence at this point, you’re a war criminal, I can kill you out of hand, and I have weapons. You will surrender and return. If you run, I’ll consider you a combatant.”

The captain said, “You must surrender, for now.”

The lieutenant wasn’t done yet. He was twitching, furious as he replied.

“Sir, I will comply with your orders under protest. I want it in record that these pirates used a fake distress call to lure us into a rescue, as a way of hijacking us.”

Juan smiled.

“When did we sound this alleged distress call?” he asked.

The lieutenant stuttered. I thought he was going to melt down entirely.

“But, your engines, and emergency pod . . .”

“Tug, not emergency pod. There was no distress call. We even deactivated the transponder on the tug.”

On screen, the captain turned to Juan said, “Damn you, we acted in good faith.”

Juan nodded. “You did, and should be commended for that. But we’re still taking your ship.”

He had no response to that.

In front of me, the lieutenant said, “If I surrender, how do we proceed?”

“Hand your sidearm to my crewwoman. Place the rest of the weapons where she tells you and follow her directions.”

A moment later, he nodded to someone who unshackled me. He reversed his grip and handed me his pistol.

“Ma’am,” he said.

Juan said, “Angie, lock them in the bunktainer. Make sure they have some rations. Unpower the hatch. We’ll take it from there.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

They did as they were told, the lieutenant waving his boarding party to move ahead of him. They were so-so in emgee. I had more practice. I made a note of that.

Juan kept the comm open.

He sent a very terse transmission to system control.

“Freehold officer reports capture of
Scrommelfenk
. Removing from system under neutral terms. No hostility offered. ASC
Pieper
accompanies. Respectfully request plans for priority transit.”

A reply would take a while, and he gave orders in the meantime.

I had the detainees precede me through the passages. They looked pissed. Hell, I could feel it in the air. They didn’t argue, though. We had a warship.

Over the PA and echoed through my phone, I heard him giving orders to the screen ships.

“Fueler, gunboat, EW boat, you are not engaged in combat and may depart if you do so at once. This is a neutral system. You know your way back to Earth, or you can move closer to Novaya Rossia support. Your command already violated neutral space once. Don’t test me.”

About then, something came back from system control that was like, “Did you say captured? Yobannyj v rot! How the hell?”

I heard Juan say, “Previous transmission is correct and complete. Please reply.”

The boarding party entered the pod, and I kicked it closed, then locked it using a johnson bar from the tool mount. I was amazed they hadn’t tried to swarm me, but I guess Juan having their captain worked. I locked the hatch again, with my pin. They couldn’t open it from inside now.

“Uh . . . hold on, sir.”

Another voice came on. “
Pieper
, are you reporting clandestine status as a warship, and capture of a UN vessel?”

“Yes. They attempted to intercept with threat of fire. I’m filing the usual complaints, as we were in transit and noncombatant at the time.”

We were about three light-minutes round trip.

“Understood,
Pieper
, though you should have been identified as a warship.”

“We didn’t become a warship until they decided to attack us, based purely on our flight path. See previous tx about usual complaints. We’ve captured her and will depart system with prize crew shortly.”

“How the hell did you manage that?”

“Through wit and skill. Please stand ready to clear both vessels for Jump Point.”

“Angie, messenger line coming,” he said to me.

“Okay,” I acknowledged. I knew that was possible. I never heard of it being done.

There was a thumping on the outer hull, which I heard through the insulation and inner hull.

How the hell had they captured a warship, even if they’d boarded it? There were so many ways to evac passages, seal locks. I figured the UN had some sort of boarder repel protocol. We’d never used it that I know of, except in an exercise a few years back that had cost lives. So how had they done this here?