[The Gunslingers, Book II, Chapter 16] [Compromise] Hunter dozed lightly in the Captain’s chair while his hostage monitored the ship’s course. The man had tried to rush him once during their trip when Hunter pretended to be sleeping; Hunter had beaten the man and then tied him to the navigation console. He hadn’t let the man up from the console since then—two weeks tied to his station had left a foul odor around the man. Hunter was fairly certain the man was far more uncomfortable than he was though. “We’re in the Demonian system,” said the man waking Hunter. Hunter opened his eyes and looked at the nothingness outside the ship, he would be glad to dump this ship and its last living crewman in a volcano and be done with it. The contract with the Ravens was proving to be far more difficult than it should have been. He would find Colton Cyness and the others, but he wasn’t going to let Colton die quickly, no, Colton was going to suffer. “Put us in orbit around the planet,” ordered Hunter. The pilot made a few adjustments on his console and Hunter watched him closely; the pilot surely knew his time of usefulness was nearly at an end. Hunter watched the man pick up the photo of his daughter from the console and look at it. Hunter had seen him do this dozens of times, perhaps he had some fantasy of seeing her again, but that wouldn’t happen. He was getting impatient and wanted to be off this ship. The man was still clutching the damn photo; he should have taken the photo and burned it in front of the man. Hunter narrowed his eyes and… he knew the pilot’s routine—something was different. The pilot normally would look at the photo and then tuck it back under the edge of the console, but this time he continued to clutch it in his hand. The pilot reached for the control to drop the ship out of light speed. “You’re dead,” screamed Hunter standing and drawing his sidearm. The man only clutched the photo tighter and Hunter pulled the trigger—too late. The pilot pressed the control to bring the ship out of light speed in the fraction of a second before the bullet entered the back of his head; the pilot slumped forward on the console. His Survival instinct kicked in and he leaped to the side of the Captain’s chair and tripped over the decaying body of the Captain and fell to the deck; it saved his life. The ship dropped into normal space and the bridge lit up blindingly bright and the very air caught fire. The Demonian sun, a massive red dwarf sun, dominated the view port and intense heat burned through the ship. Hunter landed in the shadow of the console and his clothes smoldered and his skin blackened; he screamed and crawled towards the exit from the bridge. The skin of his palms stuck to the floor and peeled away, but the shadow cast by the console behind him was enough to keep him from bursting into flames. He pushed the bridge hatch shut, sealing the inferno of the bridge from himself, but even in the corridor with the hatch shut it felt like a blast furnace. Waves of heat rose from the metal decking and Hunter forced himself to his feet, he stumbled, rose again, and limped deeper into the welcomed relief of the interior of the ship, protected marginally by the emergency armor plating that deployed the moment the now dead ship A.I., it’s computer banks a melted puddle on the floor, had registered the sun’s corona in such near proximity. The air was marginally cooler deeper in the ship and he gasped through the pain for breathable air. The cargo bay, he had to get to the cargo bay. The ship lurched and even the gravity plates began to fail. Hunter pushed himself faster, trying to ignore the pain and tripped through the hatch into the cargo bay where the landing shuttle was. The ship shuttered as explosions rocked through the ship and bulkheads imploded. He heard the rush of air, the ship was breached. Hunter slammed his shoulder against the bay ramp controls and ran for the shuttle. The ramps lowered just as he sealed the shuttle and then the bay was ablaze as the intense solar heat poured into the ship. There was no time for normal procedures, he cold started the engines and pushed the lever to send the shuttle into light speed. Any ship could, in theory, leap into light speed from a stationary position, but it was very dangerous, and he was doing it from the inside of another ship. The shuttle wasn’t designed for such abuse and one engine ripped away, but then the small ship was in a light speed envelope and the temperature dropped so drastically that ice formed on the walls. Hunter felt another pain and looked down at his foot, it was merged deep in the deck plating of the shuttle; the price of going to light speed from a stationary position and escaping. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed over the control console as the shuttle headed out of the Demonian solar system. *** “Salt Battalion, this is Fatal six, move your units to a defensive position in Washboard Basin,” Duke was firing orders off over the Com-link to the newly reorganized units of the House Cyness and Gunslinger fleets. “West six, take a position on White Top Mountain…” “Cora six assume an orbit over the northern pole…” “Wesley six, I want you on a low fast orbit along the equator...” Duke stood staring at map on the wall of the command center and continued to move units into defensive positions. The plan would be fairly straight forward; all the Sand Crawlers would remain planet side as tank battalions and the Gunslinger Dart ships, other than a few teams on patrol, would be sitting in the snow on the southern pole waiting to assault the Kitsune Battle Carrier when it entered Cyness air-space. “Duke six, this is Garret three, over,” said a voice over the Com-link. Duke didn’t have to bother checking his cheat sheet, he knew all the Gunslinger Cadets, he would only need the personnel roster to identify the local miners in the Salt Crawlers; Garret three was Jesse Houston of Gunslinger Garret’s team. Jesse had his Dart Ship sitting on an ice-burg floating in the South Sea. “This is Duke six actual, go ahead Garret three,” replied Duke. “Six bright gold painted Darts just flew past my position,” said Jesse. “I’m pretty sure they didn’t see me.” Duke swore. Gold painted Dart Ships could only be Kitsune advance scouts; the planet only had one satellite and it was a communication satellite; slipping past his own patrol ships really wouldn’t be hard for the Kitsune scouts. “Roger, Garret three, sit tight and stay camouflaged,” ordered Duke. “If they think that corridor is clear they might bring their ground force drop ships right past you and we can get a good count.” “Wilco, Duke six, I’m snug as a snow bug in a rug,” replied Jesse. Duke knew Jesse didn’t rattle easy and would maintain his observation position, but Jesse was also methodically compulsive, he was very likely climbing out and piling more snow on top of Dart just to make sure he stayed hidden. Duke walked over to the big sand table where a group of Gunslinger Cadets, Rebecca’s team, were carefully studying the weather reports and placing markers on the sand relief map of the salt desert and mountains of the Gunslinger’s Camps. “Any good news?” asked Duke. “No chance of snow in the mountains at this time of year,” said Rebecca. “But a sand storm is coming in and should be over the Iron Battalion; it will give them good concealment.” Duke checked his cheat sheet. The Iron Battalion was commanded by Rocco, a gritty old miner Duke had only met for a few minutes during the briefing earlier. Duke walked back over to the Com-console to give them a heads-up. “Iron six, this is Duke six actual.” “Boy, I mean, Commander, this is Rocco and with all due respect, get off the dang radio, them Kitsune can trace a signal and you been yakking up a whirl-wind like an old woman on wash-day. We all know your orders and can wipe our backsides without you checking up on us.” Duke’s eyes flared red for a moment, he was half-Demonian and had his father’s temper. He took a breath and keyed the Com-mic. “Good call, Iron six,” said Duke. “All units Com silence unless it’s absolutely necessary. Also be advised, Kitsune scout ships are inbound. Duke six out.” “You’re not going to tell him about the sand storm,” asked Rebecca walking over. “The old coot probably knew about the storm three days ago,” said Duke, “probably felt it in his bones, or licked a rock and threw it in the air, or whatever these crazy salt-desert miners do.” “Do you think we stand a chance against a Battle Carrier?” asked Rebecca. “I know this, they won’t engage us in the desert, no tactical advantage to that, they are going to head straight for the Gunslinger Camps,” said Duke. “Then why did you put all the Salt Crawlers out there?” Duke raised his brow and grinned. “You sly scaly skinned lizard,” said Rebecca. “You are just getting the miners out of the way so they don’t get hurt.” “Is that any way to talk to your Commander,” said Duke lightly. “No, this battle is for the Gunslingers. We will hit them hard when they first arrive and then head into the mountains where we have all our caches of weapons and ammunition.” The Com-link exploded with chatter. Duke motioned Rebecca to go take her position at the sand table to start marking positions as the reports came in. “This is Garret three, five drop ships just went past me…” “This is Wesley six, we are in a dog-fight with a Squadron of Kitsune Battle Darts, they just dropped out of the sky on top of us…” “This is Cora six, crap crap crap, a Battle Carrier just dropped out of light speed in front of us, I’m engaging…” The reports continued to pour in, Kitsune ships were dropping out of light speed almost exactly at each position the Gunslinger Cadets were holding. Duke marked the map and made a quick assessment. “They know all our positions,” said Duke. “We’ve lost the element of surprise.” “Duke six! Duke six! Evacuate your position,” shouted Cora over the Com-link. “The Carrier just fired a barrage of long range orbit-to-surface missiles and there is only one place those could be going.” Duke slammed his hand on a red button attached to the wall and an air-raid siren on the roof began it’s long wail. The civilians in the town would have a chance to get away before the missiles arrived. “All Gunslinger units, retreat to White Mountain, we will make our stand there,” Duke shouted into the Com. “Ground units, your primary positions are compromised, move to your supplementary positions and hold for orders.” Duke smashed his clawed fist down on the Com-unit and it exploded in a shower of sparks. He could use the Com in his Dart ship, but just in case, he didn’t want the enemy to be able to get their frequencies from this unit. “Lets go people, we only got a few minutes before this building becomes a smoldering hole,” ordered Duke. Duke’s eyes blazed with the fury of a Demonian as he ran with his headquarters team to their Dart Ships, all his planning had gone out the window the moment the battle had begun. *** Raen pushed the thrusters forward and angled into a vertical climb for orbit. Moeth sat fuming at her seat behind the command navigation console, the g-forces pushing her back. The rest of the Moeth Alliance chatted excitedly over the Com-link as they followed Raen away from the planet. “I can’t believe we met her…” “Seriously, who would have thought…” “What was she doing there?…” “Duh, it’s the crime capitol of the Empire…” “Yea, who else but her could be trusted to take care of the House interests there…” “Hey Raen, why do you think she’s protecting that Gunslinger?” asked Mergan. “Yea, really, that’s weird,” said Avo. “Use your heads,” said Moeth. “She’s making him her own personal Gunslinger, it’s so perfect, Mother Raven is the Master.” “How?” asked Kit. “Think about it,” said Raen. “What more perfect revenge is there than to corrupt him, and when his soul is as dark as any Raven, betray him and cut his throat.” “Yes, and at that moment he will know his murderous crime for killing those innocent babies, Petrel and Ruddy,” said Moeth. Raen didn’t bother mentioning that as cute and adorable as Petrel and Ruddy had been, they were killers the same as any Raven, but, he did miss them with all his heart and would have gladly tortured that Gunslinger slowly and let him scream and beg for days. Raen had no delusions that he was still an innocent, that day was past; he was a Hawk with the dark soul of a Raven. And yet he yearned to be free of the Ravens. He wanted to take his egg that Moeth carried far from any influence the Ravens had and protect it. He would protect it from all the evils and let it be an innocent… and he didn’t care who he had to kill to make it happen. “Hey Moeth,” said Clap. “Yes?” “You know I’m from House Clapper, I’m not a Raven,” said Clap. “Your House is good allies,” said Moeth. “We don’t care if you are not actually from the race of Ravens.” “I know that, I just wanted to mention something though,” said Clap. “What?” asked Moeth. “You guys are really scary,” said Clap. Everyone roared in laughter and even Moeth’s mood lightened up. She turned in her seat to face Raen and touched his shoulder. “We didn’t get any clues from the planet,” said Moeth. “I need a plan.” “Oh but we did get a clue,” said Raen. “I’m stupid not to have thought of it before.” “Would you care to enlighten me?” said Moeth. Raen held up a crushed soda can and handed it back to Moeth, she stared at it wondering what kind of clue this was supposed to be. “Umm… Raen?” asked Moeth. “They escaped in a food vending ship,” said Raen. “Do that miracle math of yours and find out how fast and far that ship could have gone.” “Oh, feathered ancestors!” cried Moeth. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Moeth’s fingers flew over her keyboard as she looked up the engine specs of a food vending cargo ship, then calculated speed, distance, required refueling points… “I have it,” shouted Moeth. “They had to head to Rounu Major for refuel, and they should be arriving within the week, they are moving very slowly.” “We can get there ahead of them,” said Raen. “But, what if they stopped, or what if the ship was damaged in that battle when they escaped,” said Moeth. “How far is Rounu?” asked Raen. “Two-hundred thirty light years,” replied Moeth. “That’s about three days or so for us,” said Raen. “We have time; we can stop every twenty-five light years and scan around for a few minutes.” Moeth sent orders to the other ships to synchronize their navigation computers and together they jumped to light speed. There would be no slow-sleep this time; everyone would just have to amuse themselves during the hops as best they could. The first stop showed empty open space just outside the Pyran solar system, but the second jump they got lucky and picked up a distress signal from an unmoving ship. Raen set a course and headed for the derelict ship. “Guys, did we just get super lucky?” asked Pel. Raen could see the brightly colored orange ship and pulled nose to nose with the drifting ship. “Nobody here,” said Raen. “The docking hatch is wide open,” said Tear pulling alongside the stolen Roach Coach. “Where ever they…” Tear broke off in mid-sentence and rolled hard to the right. A missile grazed his wing and tore it off; the pieces shot off as a hundred pieces of shrapnel and struck Ring’s ship. “Hull breech,” yelled Ring. “Who’s attacking?” shouted Clap. “Keep your heads,” ordered Raen. “Form up defense circle.” Raen looked over his shoulder at Moeth frantically searching for the attacking ship. “Moeth, I need to know where it is?” said Raen. “Found it, off our port side coming in fast, it’s a battlesh…. roll roll roll…” shouted Moeth. Raen rolled the ship into a maneuver only a Daraian could perform. He watched the missile pass his canopy by inches; its tail grazed the armored canopy and shot off into space. The missile exploded a few dozen feet away but most of the shock wave moved outward and struck Willet’s ship. “Ancestors! I just lost an engine,” yelled Willet. “We can’t stay in this formation,” shouted Raen. “Spread out and surround that battleship, fire when you get a lock.” “I have lock, Talon two,” said Pel giving the firing command and loosing a missile. “Locked, Talon one,” shouted Clap firing his missile. “Oh baked ancestors! Talon four… Talon four…” shouted Vas giving the code for a collision with the enemy. “Damage?” asked Moeth. “Hull breech,” replied Kit, “but I took out that small turret on it’s belly… Vas says she’s got the breech under control.” Raen watched the first two missile impact the battleship, it’s armor plating absorbed the shock blast with very little damage. “That thing is a flying tank,” said Raen maneuvering around to flank the battleship. I have lock, Talon two.” The missile hit the armor plated engines and also did very little damage. A side turret near the Bridge of the Battleship opened fire and raked along the side of his Dart ship. The side plating ripped away and his engine warning light indicated complete failure on the number two engine, the number one engine did an auto-shutdown to save itself from electronic damage until the number two engine could be ejected. Raen’s ship was dead in space, the Battleship was just too strong for only nine Darts. He watched the Battleship turret-gunner rotate his turret and take aim at the mortally wounded Dart Ship, it would be killing shot. But… the turret didn’t fire and Raen could swear he saw a flash from inside the turret, like the flash of gunfire. He waited, but the turret remained silent. “What’s going on?” whispered Raen. The Battleship didn’t fire anymore missiles and Raen’s dead Dart Ship drifted within view of the Battleship Bridge. He saw four more of the flashes from the Bridge. “Oh cursed flightless ancestors!” Raen screamed into the Com-link. Raen tried to get his targeting computer to work but with the engines off there wasn’t any power. He needed to fire a missile into that Bridge now… “What is it, Raen?” replied Caedon, the youngest and quietest of the Moeth Ravens. “You won’t believe this,” interrupted Clap. “What?” shouted Raen. “Their ramp just opened and flushed out at least twenty of the crew into space,” reported Clap. “I believe it, damn! damn!” shouted Raen. “They are pirates, and that’s where Colton Cyness is. They captured him off that food vendor ship and we’ve been giving him the distraction to escape and over-power the pirates.” “Are you sure?” asked Moeth. “I can see gunfire from inside that pirate battleship,” said Raen. “Who else but Gunslingers would be stupid enough to fire ballistic ammunition inside a spacecraft?” “I want that ship boarded, now!” screamed Moeth. “We are almost there,” said Sander. Raen watched Sander mover his ship near the open ramp, but he wasn’t fast enough. The Battleship jumped to light speed and was gone. Sander’s ship was propelled backward and both wings ripped off from the shock wave of the light speed envelope. “They’re gone,” said Raen. “Everyone with a working ship collect up the damaged ships, we’ll tether and limp back to Pyra for repairs.” Raen twisted in his seat to check on Moeth; her face was white and she was clutching her stomach. “Moeth?” “The egg is coming.”