Intrepid

3

''Engineering, give us everything you've got for reverse,'' Drago said into his commlink. ''Nav, keep us backing, but do not reverse ship. I will not give them a shot at my engines.''

''Aye sir. Get out of here but protect the engines.''

While Captain Drago handled his ship, Kris eyed the other. On-screen, it looked like a medium-size merchant. A bit big for a tramp freighter, doing catch-as-catch-can business between the small ports on the Rim and beyond. Still, its long, central spine was loaded with containers. Forward, it broadened into a bridge and housing arrangement for the crew. Amidships was a disk containing whatever cargo didn't do well in vacuum, and possibly some passengers. That was where the Wasp had its twenty-four-inch pulse lasers. Aft were the engineering spaces, a rectangle for the fusion reactor, plumbing for the magnetohydrodynamics generators, and huge bell-shaped plasma engines.

''Sensors, is that a single reactor?'' Kris asked Chief Beni, her own man, who was running that station just now.

''Looks that way, ma'am,'' he muttered, then did something to his board. ''But I'm still looking.''

Kris slaved her board to his. Beni might be leadership challenged on liberty, but with anything electronic he was a wizard. Just now, he used only passives, listening but making no noise that would tip a pirate's hand that the Wasp was anything but a soft, defenseless carrier of wood and drawer of water.

Then again, a pirate would be doing its own best to look as innocent as a lamb … and hide the wolf within. At the moment, they were even in the lamb department. Or one might actually be what it claimed.

''Hmm, ain't she a mite bit underpowered with a single Westinghouse 1500 series reactor?'' Chief Beni mused to himself, and jacked up the gain on a couple of his short-range sensors. ''Seems like there's a whole lot more neutrinos coming out of that single reactor … and they're spread out over a whole lot more space. Those engineering spaces looked a bit luxurious for just one teapot. Skipper, I make two Westinghouse reactors. And expect they're 2200 series at that. You got a wolf trying to fake it in woolies.''

''Damn,'' Captain Drago said.

''Straight,'' Kris added.

''Your orders, Your Highness.''

So King Ray didn't know these people nearly as well as Kris did. And this bunch had no problem following this Longknife into the mouth of hell. In a fast countdown to a fight, Drago wasn't looking to Abby, he was asking Kris.

She swallowed the first thing that came to mind… Let's kick some pirate butt. Instead, Kris muttered a much more sedate, ''Let's make sure someone like Helvetia isn't also trolling for pirates. Wouldn't want Grampa Ray faced with a media blitz ‘cause two good guys shot each other up.''

Someone on the bridge snickered at Kris's familiarity with a man everyone else knew as King Raymond of the United Sentients.

And somewhere on net came a ''Damn, one of those Longknifes can grow up.'' It sounded familiar.

''That you, Jack?'' Kris asked Captain Jack Montoya of the Royal United Sentient Marine Corps, who now commanded the rump company aboard.

''Not me, ma'am, not a chance. Though I do admit sympathy for the conclusion.''

Further discussion was suspended as the ship looming over them opened communication channels. ''Hello, stranger, this is Compton Maru out of Orama. What ship are you and where you from? Where you bound?''

Captain Drago took the commlink. ''This is the Lucky Seven Horse out of Hampton, and I'll tell you where I'm bound when you tell me where you been.''

That elicited a laugh, much as Kris expected. Profits were razor thin out here and a good way to go broke was to follow in the wake of another ship, trying to sell your cargo in an already satisfied market or buy up cargo that had already been shipped.

Kris might be Navy and Drago … whatever he was … but they'd spent enough time in bars among merchant captains to learn that much of the trade.

The laughing voice became serious. ''You tell me something interesting, then I'll tell you something more interesting.''

''Sounds fair,'' Drago said. ''Our last stop was Magda's Hideaway.'' It really had been. ''They took all our agricultural implements and were still hungry. They didn't touch our heavy machinery. Somebody got there first.''

''That little burg ain't growing anywhere near as fast as its founding fathers thought it would. If they ain't careful, they're going to get overextended on their loans,'' the voice from the larger freighter observed.

Kris let them ramble, and took the ship above her apart layer by layer—as much as passive sensors allowed. If the ship had lasers, no capacitors were charged. Dead in space, the ship was no longer running plasma through its engines. Its only power source was a trickle off the racetrack of hot plasma. That kept the ship's main battery charged.

''Could you power a laser directly from the main storage battery?'' Kris asked the chief.

''You shouldn't be able to, ma'am,'' was the answer she expected. ''Power cables aren't designed for that surge. However, a small three-incher might dribble something out. Couldn't pierce much ice armor, but then, we're just a thin-skinned merchie,'' he said, with a wicked grin.

A knife might not be much, but in a fistfight, it could run the table. But a guy pulling a knife in a gunfight was in for a surprise. A big one.

''Where you been?'' Captain Drago asked.

''We're just coming back from Xanadu,'' the other claimed.

''Trying to trade among those crazies?'' Drago asked.

They'd already learned about Xanadu, the supposed home of the Abdicators. They were a bunch of nuts who insisted all humanity had to go back to Earth and hide from the coming alien hordes that would wipe us out. They'd been noisy forty years ago, then had gotten kind of few and quiet. Kris now knew why.

By some twisted logic, the leader of the Abdicators had moved all his followers far out beyond the Rim. Supposedly to hide. Considering how insanely crazy their beliefs had been before, Kris was none too sure she wanted to know what they'd become out on their own for half a century.

''They may be crazy, but they have money. They bought everything I had. I'm hauling my containers home empty except for some with wines and proto-pharms they sold me. If you got the range, they're a good place to drop by. Where you headed?''

But whoever was doing the talking over there must have figured he'd done enough babbling to distract the captain of the Lucky Seven Horse.

On Kris's board, a capacitor appeared, going from green to yellow to red as it sucked power from the ship's main battery.

''Evade,'' Kris shouted, but Nelly had already activated a jinks pattern in the helm. The Wasp danced left, right, up, down, and a feeble three-inch laser burned empty space.

''What the hell,'' came from the other ship on an open mike, then it went dead.

A red wash in the engineering spaces showed both reactors on the other ship coming to full life, overpowering whatever cover they had been hiding behind. The pirate ship shot away from the jump point, following a twisting course that danced its engines in and out of a direct shot from the Wasp.

A half dozen laser capacitors went from not there to yellow to red as they sucked up a charge.

Then the sensor board got hazy.

''They're trying to jam,'' Beni observed, did something to his board, and some of the jamming went away.

''Shields,'' was Kris's next order.

And she hated herself for it.

A slight bulge on the nose of the Wasp hid one of her two innovations. On order, Smart Metal™ deployed like a huge umbrella, rotating as it went. It both hid the ship behind it and provided a defense against lasers.

During drills, Kris had first ordered, ''Raise. Metal,'' or ''Raise. Defenses.'' Someone on the back of the bridge had whispered, ''Shields. Up,'' quoting from a long-running space opera. The bridge crew had a good laugh, but from then on, no matter what order Kris gave, the answer from Defensive Systems was always, ''Shields. Up.''

''Shields. Up,'' now answered Kris. No one laughed.

''Keep backing ship,'' Captain Drago ordered. ''Guns, let me know when you're fully charged.''

That was the Wasp's other secret. For three hundred years fusion reactors had produced the plasma that rocket motors streamed out to move the ship. That plasma, on its way to the engines, passed through magnetohydrodynamic coils that generated electricity for the ship and its weapons.

The Compton Maru had gotten under way, exposing its vulnerable engines because otherwise it couldn't charge its lasers.

The Wasp backed up, using only its maneuvering engines. By all rights, it couldn't charge its pulse lasers off that dribble of plasma. But on Kris's board, the four laser capacitors were rapidly moving from green to yellow, headed for full red. Thanks to new science and a recent refit, the Wasp stripped electricity directly from the plasma flux in the reactor.

The times they were a changing. And this pirate was about to find out.

Then Kris got her own surprise. The Compton Maru sprouted a shielding umbrella from its own bow. This one had a leaping tiger on it. Its jaws agape, its claws dripping blood.

''Aggressive type, aren't they,'' Sulwan observed.

''Let's see if they can walk the walk,'' Kris said, mashing her commlink. ''Ahoy, Compton Maru. This is the USS Wasp, and I am Lieutenant Longknife, Wardhaven Navy. You just fired upon me. Dump your core and prepare to be boarded.''

''You can go to hell,'' shot back in reply, but in the background there was a startled cry of ''Not a Longknife.'' Followed by ''Shut up.''

The two ships circled each other. Captain Drago kept the Wasp pivoting on its long axis, nose always to the Compton. The pirate, for her part, did her best to open the range while keeping her engines covered.

The range was point-blank. Hand grenades in a broom closet.

But the Wasp stood between the jump point and the pirate, giving the latter only lousy choices. She could turn and run for the jump point across the system, giving Kris an easy up-the-kilt shot at her reactors. Or charge the Wasp, hoping to slip past her into the jump point. Or fight it out.

''The hostile's lasers are fully charged,'' Chief Beni said.

''Any idea how strong they are?'' Captain Drago asked.

''I'd guess five-inchers. And weak for that,'' the chief said.

''Your Highness, what are your orders?''

Kris thought about that for all of a second. ''He's not getting away from us, Captain. If he wants to dance, we dance, but he can't run.''

''Yes, ma'am. Weapons are online. They are yours, ma'am.''

The exact nature of the Wasp's registry might be subject to debate. What Captain Drago and Kris had quickly agreed upon was her weapons policy. Laying aim and closing the firing circuits would be done by a serving Wardhaven officer. One must respect international law … even if it was with a wink and a smile.

Lieutenant Kris Longknife, Wardhaven Navy, aimed Battery 1 for the tiger's mouth. It was about the right distance out from the bow's center to have the bridge behind it. Of course, if they were rotating their ship behind the shield, like Captain Drago was rotating the Wasp, burn through on the shield might hit anything—or nothing.

''Pirate ship Compton, this is your one and only warning. Dump your reactor, or I will fire on you,'' Kris said, voice cold with death.

Silence answered her.

''Prepare to change jinks pattern,'' Kris announced. ''All hands, prepare for radical evasion.''

On the bridge, people cinched in already tight seat belts. ''For what they are about to receive, may we be truly grateful,'' some wag muttered.

''Pirate ship Compton, I will fire on you at the count of three,'' Kris said into her commlink.

Obscenities were her only reply.

''One,'' Kris said. NELLY GET READY TO IMPLEMENT RADICAL EVASION ON MY MARK.

READY, KRIS.

''Two.'' MARK!

The Wasp shifted from a soft right climb to a hard left drop that left Kris's stomach somewhere a dozen kilometers away in the cold vacuum of space.

Where it was being fried by three laser beams from the hostile.

''Fire One,'' Kris said as she closed the firing circuit for the first of Wasp's pulse lasers.

The mouth of the tiger glowed, then fumed, and finally gaped as the Wasp's laser burned through the shield. To the void behind it. Yep, the ship was rotating.

And now it also started to jinks.

NELLY, EVALUATE THE EVASION PATTERN.

IT IS A BASIC ONE. I AM ALREADY FORECASTING IT.

Kris aimed her second laser for opposite the ragged hole in the shield that was already healing itself, blocking out the view of what lay behind it, ship or void.

At the last second, Kris played a hunch, changing her aim to the right paw of the tiger and firing.

The paint boiled off in a nanosecond, leaving the shield to burn and buckle. Thinner now from the loss of metal to Kris's hit and the effort to patch it, burn-through came quicker.

And raked the ship hull behind it before Laser 2 winked out.

''Compton, you are hit, and your shields are failing. Dump your reactor, and we will board and offer assistance,'' Kris said.

''Never,'' was the one-word reply.

And six lasers reached out for the Wasp from the wounded pirate. They were not so strong as Kris's ship's twenty-four-inch pulse lasers, but at this range, a hit by anything could slice the Wasp in half.

The ship jinked away from four of them. The fifth one spent itself on the shield, boiling off a few kilos of Smart Metal™.

The sixth one raked Wasp aft of amidships but missed engineering. At least the lights did not dim, nor did the reload light on Battery 1 slow its rapid climb from yellow toward red.

''Damage Control,'' Captain Drago demanded.

''Containers open to space. We're working on them.''

Captain Drago turned to Kris. ''Can you get this over with? I like my ship the way it is, not holier than thou,'' he said dryly.

''Firing Three,'' Kris said. She had Nelly widen the focus of the twenty-four-inch laser, raking a major portion of the shield. Damaged, it was now too thin to do much more than hide the bow of the pirate, providing a fan to cover the bare rear of the bridge.

As 3 winked out, all pretense at a shield vanished. The pirate spun on its long axis in full view. But not giving up.

Its capacitors began to recharge. A thin wisp coalesced to cover the bow. The tiger was back, a raised paw, the middle finger elevated in the universally recognized insolent salute.

''Some folks just don't know when to quit,'' Kris said.

''Leave us alone,'' boomed from the commlink. ''You get out of here, or a lot of people are going to die.''

''You're going to die,'' Kris pointed out.

''We got the crew of two ships on board. You shoot at us again, and we'll see just how much vacuum they can breathe.''

''Oops,'' Kris and Captain Drago said at the same time.

''Kris,'' Nelly said, ''unless they've changed their rotation, I know where the bridge is.''

''Target it.'' A red pipper began to circle the flimsy shield. Not, to Kris's surprise, focusing on the raised digit but somewhere around its toes.

The longer Kris waited, the more the chance that they might change their rotation. Kris mashed Battery 4's firing circuit.

The laser slashed through the spinning cover. Sections spun off into space. There, revealed for all, was the bridge.

But only for a fraction of a second as the twenty-four-inch laser opened it to space, slagging human flesh, instruments, and gear.

''Surrender now or my next laser will hack your reactors' containment fields to bits,'' Kris ordered to anyone who might still be listening.

''What about their prisoners?'' Sulwan asked.

''We have only their word that they have them,'' Kris said, keeping hard eyes on their target.

''You're a hard woman,'' Drago said. ''I hope you're right.''

So did Kris.

Then the cores of the two reactors dropped out into vacuum, and the Compton began to coast along its last vector.

''We surrender. You can board us. We won't fight you,'' was spoken by a new voice.

''I hope for your sake you don't,'' Kris answered. ''We've got a Marine company that could use a spot of exercise.''

That got no reply.

''Captain Montoya,'' Kris called to Jack.

''Standing by,'' he answered.

''Prepare to board the pirate as soon as we come alongside and match their speed and vector.''

''Aye, aye, ma'am.''

''Captain Drago, please place your ship alongside that derelict.''

''Yes, ma'am.''

''Hot dog. More prize money,'' came from the wag in the back of the bridge.