28

Standing in the ship’s bustling operations center, General Yo-Tsai watched the shining white hull of the Rampart Guardian slip past the exterior viewports, as his command transport started its descent toward Tarkis’ upper atmosphere. Then he frowned and turned his attention back to the viewscreen, and the video call with Senator Foss.

“I don’t particularly care how it happened, Senator,” Yo-Tsai said. “The reality is that we had a deal, and you have broken it. You promised me unrestricted freedom to conduct my operations, yet Federacy forces have seized the transfer station, and are currently battling my troops on the ground, too.”

“But they’re disobeying orders,” Foss protested. “I can’t be held responsible for their actions.”

“That sounds like your problem, Senator, not mine.”

“What would you have me do?” Foss asked, exasperated.

“Nothing,” Yo-Tsai told him, flatly. “In a matter of minutes, your rebellious troops will have been captured or killed, and your ploy will have failed.”

“I called you in order to reestablish our truce, in good faith,” Foss spluttered. “I’m offering you valuable information about their operational plan.”

“That information might have been helpful an hour ago, before they executed the plan,” Yo-Tsai replied. “Now it’s worthless. An empty gesture from a desperate coward.”

Foss bristled visibly at the jab. “Allow me to remind you that the FRF is still standing by, awaiting my order to attack your fleet.”

“The moment you give that order, I will launch drone attacks, with the full complement of PKDs,” Yo-Tsai said, crossing his arms. “If the FRF has even been activated – which I doubt – it will have no Federacy left to defend.”

Foss’ jaw worked in mute frustration. “This is no way to conduct negotiations!” he seethed.

Outside the viewports, Yo-Tsai saw the surface of Tarkis approaching rapidly. “You fail to understand that this is not politics, Senator,” Yo-Tsai said. “It’s war. And in war, the two sides don’t negotiate, the victor simply dictates his terms. Our deal, such as it was, is no longer valid. In addition, I’m initiating a drone strike on every planet in the Federacy, in retaliation for police actions on Tarkis. This strike will be a limited one – we’ll merely kill a few thousand people on each planet. But if more of your forces resist me in the future, it will not be the last strike. Goodbye, Senator.”

Yo-Tsai cut the feed, and then turned to the nearest battle captain.

“Signal the Rampart Guardian: launch drone strikes.”

 

* * *

 

“Three, two, one, mark.”

Inside the metal cylinder atop the Rampart Guardian’s bridge, Paisen pressed the Initiate button on her control pad. Far away at the stern of the ship, the device she and Vence had so carefully constructed sent a complex burst of electrical signals along the engine’s control circuits. The surge overloaded the ship’s safety protocols, and started a chain reaction within the engine core that lit the main engines, and seconds later, initiated the ship’s faster-than-light drive.

The ship bucked forward, and then jumped into FTL travel without warning. In a matter of seconds, they had left the rest of the fleet and Tarkis far behind.

Paisen activated the metal cylinder she and Vence were standing inside. The bottom of the device detonated below their feet, and sent a super-heated jet of plasma straight down through the ship’s hull, carving open a neat circle the exact size of the cylinder. A split second later, a small rocket engine on top of the cylinder activated, blasting the cylinder – with Paisen and Vence inside it – down through the new hole in the ship’s hull. It jolted to a stop, and the two doors swung up simultaneously, revealing Paisen and Vence, their weapons at the ready. The two women, standing back to back, opened fire on the bridge crew and battle staff below, sweeping the room with cold precision. Meanwhile, the roof of the cylinder above them sprayed a specialized foam across the ceiling, resealing the hull it had just breached. The foam was still hardening when Paisen stopped firing. She dropped the magazine from her weapon and loaded a fresh one.

“Clear,” she told Vence.

A Jokuan crew member appeared from behind a control station, making a desperate dash for the bridge’s exit. Vence fired a short burst. “Clear,” she agreed, pulling her helmet off.

“Cover the entrance,” Paisen ordered her, lowering herself from the bottom of the cylinder, and then dropping to the deck below. “I gotta shut off the damn FTL drive before we fly into something solid.”

Vence hurried over to the bridge’s entrance door and stationed herself inside it, weapon pointing out. Paisen found the ship’s helm and pulled off her bulky vacuum gloves, tossing them aside, and then dumped her helmet, too. She typed briefly at the controls; the ship shuddered and came to a stop. Paisen glanced at the viewscreen – there was no sign of the Jokuan fleet, Tarkis, or any other planet on the scope. She breathed a quick sigh of relief.

A light was flashing red on one of the other consoles – she strode over to it, and pushed the slumped form of a Jokuan crew member to one side. She didn’t recognize the controls at all – it appeared to be some kind of weapon station, but it didn’t show any of the ship’s defenses, as a typical station would. She saw two safety keys, with necklaces dangling from them, mounted in the station. A readout screen displayed the text: Launch interrupted due to loss of signal from FTL jump. PKD Drone connection reestablished. Retry? Y/N.

“Oh shit!” Paisen said. She jammed the No button, hard.

PKD launch aborted, the console reported.

“Yo-Tsai was in the midst of launching the drones,” Paisen told Vence. She twisted the two safety keys into the Disarmed position, and withdrew them from the console. “We got here just in time.”

“Someone’s coming,” Vence told her, cocking her head to one side to give her auditory implants a better angle on the corridor outside the door to the bridge. “Four, maybe five of them. They’re in a hurry.”

Paisen pulled up the ship’s security cameras on the nearest console, and saw five heavily armed guards running toward the bridge. “Five. You got ‘em?” Paisen asked.

“Yeah,” Vence said. “Heads up: I’m using a gravity flare.”

The younger woman switched her submachine gun to her left hand, and detached a grenade-like device from the exterior of her spacesuit. She listened for several seconds, then armed the grenade and lobbed it down the corridor in the direction of the approaching Jokuans. Paisen looped her arm under the console and braced herself. The grenade rolled into view onscreen just as the Jokuans rounded the corner. Paisen heard a low buzzing sound, and suddenly the ship’s artificial gravity reversed, causing her to float gently upward. On the screen, in the immediate vicinity of the grenade the reversed polarity was far more pronounced – the five men were yanked off their feet and slammed headfirst into the ceiling of the corridor. Then the grenade shut off, and they were unceremoniously dumped back onto the floor.

Vence jogged down the hall and shot them for good measure, then returned to the doorway and palmed it shut. Paisen was inspecting the bodies of the Jokuan officers on the bridge.

“Any sign of Yo-Tsai?” Vence asked.

“No,” Paisen said, chagrined. “Looks like we missed him.” She bent over a command station and turned on the ship’s PA system. “This is Contractor 339. I’m now in command of this vessel. Any surviving Jokuan crew will proceed immediately to the cargo hold. Take a seat in the middle of the hold and await further instructions. Anyone who fails to comply will be shot.”

She set her submachine gun down on a console and began to strip out of the bulky spacesuit.

“Where are we?” Vence asked.

“Middle of nowhere,” Paisen replied. “About thirty light-minutes outside of Tarkis’ system.”

“Okay. What now?”

Paisen frowned. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “We didn’t get that far in planning, did we?”

“We didn’t think we’d make it this far, no,” Vence agreed.

Paisen handed her one of the drone weapon safety keys.

“What’s this?” Vence asked.

“Along with my key, it arms the PKD system.”

Vence studied the key, letting it dangle from her hand. “So you and I now control a galaxy-wide weapon of mass destruction?”

“Yeah,” Paisen agreed, tossing her empty spacesuit aside.

“That’s intriguing,” Vence mused.

“Yeah?” Paisen asked. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I say we put it to use.”