Phantom Fleet Read online

  "Sir, they're two minutes from entering firing range," the sensor officer gravely reported.

  Duuven ignored him and turned instead to the helmsman, "Can you go any faster?"

  "This is the limit, I'm afraid," the officer replied, pausing to make some adjustments to his controls, "Though the enemy have almost reached the spot where we began our maneuver."

  Duuven looked back to the map. Everything depended on this. If his gambit failed, he'd be responsible for the deaths of everyone on the ship. Though on the bright side he wouldn't be feeling guilty for long – Federation ship-killing missiles travelled very fast indeed.

  "One minute from firing range!"

  Duuven wiped his brow and took one last look around the bridge. Though he hadn't been Captain of the ship for long, it was almost beginning to feel like home for him. Or maybe he'd just been sat in the seat too long. He made a promise to himself that if they survived, he'd get up and go for a walk before his legs started to go numb. Maybe he'd even stop by the ship's gym, too. It was never too late to get in shape, right? If they survived.

  He was jerked out of his reverie by the red blip abruptly slowing down. Instinctively, he glanced up at the view screen in time to see a ripple of distant explosions. A cheer went around the bridge. They'd actually fallen for it! The enemy had accelerated so much to catch them that they'd been going too fast to avoid the mines that the Rebels had maneuvered around. Duuven winced as he thought of the possible damage that one of those clusters would have done to the enemy ship. But he wasn't planning to stick around and find out.

  "What's the jump drive charge level at?" he asked.

  "Almost complete, sir!" the technician answered through a grin that ran from ear to ear.

  "Great, get us out of here as soon as you can. Set a course for the edge of Federation space, we can refine the route as we go."

  "Yes, captain!"

  The door to the bridge hissed open and Ford and Hubbard emerged into the room, still in their suits.

  "Did you get the data?" Ford asked breathlessly.

  "Yeah. I routed it directly down to Ellery's workstation. Most of it, at least," Duuven sighed, "If you guys had been a bit faster, we could've gotten the whole thing."

  "More like if you hadn't ripped the cable out of the damn satellite, we'd have gotten it!" Hubbard barked.

  "Well that's the problem with being in charge," Duuven shrugged as he stood up, "Sometimes you've gotta make difficult decisions."

  "Difficult, my ass," Hubbard spat, "Where the hell are you off to now?"

  A staccato burst of lights across the view screen and the distant whine of the engines signaled that the ship was about to jump as Duuven moved towards the door.

  "Show's over, man," he waved over his shoulder, "I'm going for a walk."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They spent a few days in transit as they headed for their vague destination. Duuven ensured that the ship made regular course corrections to keep their pursuers one step behind, allowing the rest of the crew a bit of breathing room. At long last, Ford was summoned by one of the crew to Ellery's office. He hoped that his and Hubbard's efforts to get her some useful intelligence had not been in vain.

  "You asked for me?" he closed the door behind him, making sure they were alone.

  "Yeah," Ellery grunted, not bothering to look up from her desk which was covered in a patchwork of printouts and extra computer monitors. She looked like she hadn't slept in days.

  "So you found something for us?"

  "Possibly," she squinted at him, "Sit down, would you? Having to look up towards the ceiling light is hurting my eyes."

  Ford tentatively moved a pile of documents from atop one of the chairs and set them on the edge of the desk before carefully lowering himself down.

  "I think I've narrowed down the location of our fleet," Ellery said as she kept tapping at her keyboard.

  "That's great!"

  "Well the bad news is that the Federation will be looking for them too – the area could be swarming with their ships..."

  "But?"

  "I've been looking at what our comrades have been up to lately," Ellery told him, "Tracing their attacks on various Fed outposts. I think I have a rough idea of where they'll be going next. If we can get to their next target first and hide nearby, we should have a good chance of avoiding the enemy and linking up with our friends at the same time. I've already had Duuven set us a new destination."

  "So what do you need me for?" Ford narrowed his eyes warily.

  "Well there's a slight problem," Ellery reclined in her chair and rubbed her eyes, "I don't think that my direct superiors will be too pleased with us turning up unannounced in a rust bucket ship with our base having been destroyed."

  "But we blew up a Federation facility! Surely that counts for something?"

  "Maybe," she shrugged, "But we still don't know the real reason why we were led there. If we want to be able to give Command some answers, then our guest will have to start talking."

  "And you want me to talk to him," Ford groaned, "Shit."

  -

  Ford had tried to put Sub out of his mind. The guy had double-crossed him enough times that he doubted if he should ever be let out of the brig. Especially considering the capacity for harm that his augmentations gave him. But he had saved Ford's life. That had to count for something. Then again, Ford knew that he worked for the mysterious Singularist League, and if the horror stories that he'd heard about them as a child were true it would make Sub all the more dangerous.

  As the guards ushered him into the cell block, Ford was already starting to feel uneasy. Sub creeped him out enough at times, but the place itself already looked like the set of a horror movie with its bare metal, pale lighting and stained padded cells. The guards led him down the hallway to a cell at the far end before leaving him alone in front of the glass wall. He pushed the intercom button and began to speak.

  "Hello, Sub."

  "Ford," the pale figure on the other side of the glass stood up and approached.

  "You keeping well?"

  "Oh just great," Sub fixed him with one of his unblinking stares, "You'd be amazed at how only a toilet and a bed can be such stimulating company."

  Ford laughed politely before he spotted something on the other side of the cell. The entire far wall was covered in drawings. No, not a drawing. A map. The same one that Sub had stolen from the Federation facility. The one that they had confiscated from him before throwing him in this cell. And yet here it was, reproduced in almost perfect detail.

  "You drew all that?" Ford nodded at the far wall.

  "Of course," Sub tapped a slender finger against his temple, "It's all stored up here."

  "Ah right, augmentations."

  "I like to think it's just a good memory."

  Ford ignored him and kept staring at the wall. Set aside from the impossibly precise angles and exactingly-placed map markers was a column of numbers. Equations of some sort.

  "You doing your own research?" he asked.

  "It keeps me busy," Sub answered blankly.

  "You wanna enlighten me as to what you've found out?"

  "I'm not sure my employer would approve of that. It would go well outside the parameters of my mission."

  "Your employer. You mean the Singularist League?"

  Sub just smiled and shrugged.

  "I could really use some info on them," Ford told him, "Pretty soon, we'll be linking up with the Rebel fleet. If you wanna avoid having them treat you as a spy and executing you, I'd get talking – we won't be able to protect you from them."

  "Now, now, Ford," Sub tutted, "Nobody's getting executed any time soon. Certainly not me. And I won't help you one bit if all you have are threats."

  "Listen up, buddy," Ford started to get impatient, "If you wanna get out of this cell, you should give us some decent information instead of your usual cryptic bullshit!"

  "Oh you'll let me out of here," Sub smiled, "Because sooner or later, you'r
e going to need my help."

  "Sure."

  "I'm sure. And until I'm free, I'm not telling you a thing."

  Ford fumed for a second before walking away. He'd find his own answers. One way or another.

  -

  The carrier's reading room was fairly Spartan, with covered bookshelves along the walls and row after row of computer terminals in the middle of the room. When the ship had been a Federation corvette, it had been the kind of place that crewmembers would come to study for promotion exams or while away the hours with some entertainment. Nowadays, it was a place where crewmembers would hide away to avoid being selected for extra duties. So Ford was none too surprised to see Marcus Cheng seated around one of the tables with a few of his pilots. Although they were now reluctant cogs in the Rebel machine, the gang of former privateers still tried to stay aloof from the rest of the crew. Ford gave them a curt nod before seating himself at one of the computers and starting his research.

  It was rough going. The Federation had always been reluctant to share information about events in the rest of known space with its citizens – something about how people might pick up strange ideas about fairness or democracy. Information on the Singularist League was no different.

  After about an hour of fruitless reading, Ford ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

  "You got some kind of problem?" Cheng invited himself over and sat down at the next table.

  "You could say that – these computers don't have anything that could be described as an objective history of space. It's making my job impossible."

  "It's an ex-Fed ship, what did you expect?"

  "I dunno," Ford sighed, "I just thought there'd be at least something."

  "Maybe I can help?"

  Ford shot the former pirate a sidelong glance and laughed, "Yeah and maybe I'll win the lottery one day."

  "I'm serious," Cheng leaned forward, "In my old job, I'd meet a lot of people passing through the black markets and hideouts – if it's information about the world outside of the Federation that you want, then I might just be your man."

  "Sure," Ford shook his head, "I'm trying to find out about the Singularist League."

  "What, so you can find out about your friend down in the brig?" Cheng watched as he raised an eyebrow, "Don't look so surprised. Word travels fast on a ship this small."

  "Right, I forget that saying something's a secret is just a kind request to this crew," Ford blinked.

  "What do you know so far?"

  "Just the usual schoolyard stories we all hear; mad scientists, fucked-up experiments. You know, the usual half-truths and distortions."

  "Well it's not all entirely false."

  "Oh?" now it was Ford's turn to be interested.

  "I'm hazy on the details, but from what I've been told from traders who've been out that way, the League are some pretty messed up people. They believe in the 'Singularity', you see, a final merging of man and machine to create a new form of life. From what I hear, they've got entire planets full of people with mechanical augmentations, and not all of them willing participants."

  "Now who's spinning campfire tales?"

  "I'm serious man!" Cheng became suddenly stone-faced, "Traders can't get within a few lightyears of the League's borders. It's patrolled by Earth Authority and Singularist ships. Nothing gets in or out."

  "Earth doesn't want them leaving?"

  "More like the League prefers to keep to itself. It's too much of a hassle for Earth to administrate whatever's going on in there, so they just let them get on with it so long as they don't try to influence the outside world."

  "How do you mean? By sending out agents or something?"

  "No – Earth has got the most advanced tech in known space right?" Cheng held up a hand, "But the Singularists are beyond even that, if the rumor mill is to be believed. That has the potential to upset the balance of power."

  "Not to mention piss a lot of people off..." Ford's mind was starting to grind into gear.

  "Right. So the League doesn't come out to play and Earth pretends that nothing horrific is going on inside its borders. Everybody wins!" he shrugged, "Well, except for anyone unfortunate to be born on the Singularist side of the border."

  They sat in silence for a moment whilst Ford gazed at the ceiling, ruminating on Cheng's words.

  "So it would be a big risk for them to interfere in outside affairs?"

  "What, like by sending agents halfway across Known Space to assist a rebellion against the Federation?" Cheng smiled, "You bet your ass it would be a risk."

  Ford tapped a few buttons and accessed the secure section of the computer system, bringing up the map that they had stolen from the Federation station and which was now drawn across the walls of Sub's jail cell.

  "What do you make of that?" he asked.

  Cheng leaned in and squinted at the star chart, "It's showing readings coming from beyond our borders. Some kind of energy signature."

  "We know that already. Why would the League be interested?"

  "All they care about is tech, right? Achieving their damned 'Singularity'?" Cheng leaned back and spread his arms, "If I had to guess, I'd say that they think whatever they're tracking could be useful in fulfilling their grand destiny."

  "So what is it?"

  "Beats me. Some new natural resource? Some experimental Federation tech? Oh! Maybe it's aliens moving around out there."

  "Very funny," Ford closed the window and turned off the computer, "But thanks for your help."

  "No problem man," Cheng rose to rejoin his pilots on the other side of the room, "Hey, I've got a question for you."

  "Shoot."

  "When do you think Ellery is going to pay me and my guys? We've been out here for weeks and still no credits have come our way."

  "Still a pirate on the inside, I see."

  "Hey man, we've held up our side of the bargain," Cheng smiled.

  "This is a rebellion, Cheng," Ford turned to leave, "I haven't had a pay packet in over six months."

  "You're a funny guy!" Cheng laughed for a second before his brows knotted together, "Wait, seriously?"

  -

  A rumbling boom shook Ford out of his bunk. He'd barely gotten off to sleep, but was still groggy as he fumbled his way up the wall and onto his feet. He emerged into the corridor and strapped on his emergency oxygen mask as a familiar rumble signified the jump drive kicking into life. In the absence of an alarm going off, he pushed his way past some confused technicians and made his way to the bridge.

  The carrier was underway, safely in jump space, but the bridge crew still looked shaken.

  "What the hell happened?" he asked as he pulled off his mask.

  "Jumped into a spot of deep space just before a Federation patrol ship arrived. We got out of there right away," reported the first officer as Duuven arrived on the bridge.

  "Did you damage my ship?" the larger man growled.

  "No sir, their shots glanced off our armor."

  "A close call," Ford sighed.

  "Mind your business, Ford," Duuven rounded on him as a visible look of relief came over the first officer, "We fly the ship, you do whatever it is you do."

  "I'm just saying, it scared the shit out of me."

  "It needn't have," Ellery said, standing up from behind one of the bridge terminals.

  The two men turned to her in surprise as she stood smiling amongst the crowd of ashen faces.

  "What are you talking about?" Duuven demanded.

  "I mean that this is actually some good news," she hit a button on the terminal and pulled up a still image of the ship that had just attacked them, "We haven't seen this guy before," she jabbed a finger at the screen.

  "So?"

  "So, this Federation ship is from a different unit to the one that's been chasing us for the past week," Ellery grinned, "If more of them are out here, it means the Rebel fleet must be close!"

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Horsk shifted irritably in his command chair. The ta
blet he was holding showed his flotilla's remaining ships and their respective readiness levels. The Austin's Pride was glaringly absent, having been forced to limp back to the nearest dockyard after its sudden encounter with an unsurprisingly dangerous minefield. Horsk would have been angrier, but he knew that it was always better to be rid of a liability sooner rather than later. He slid his finger across the screen and brought up the map. They'd travelled far, almost reaching the outer edge of Federation territory and Known Space itself. If the Rebels kept running, they'd soon run out of places to go. And then he would have them.

  Still, Councilor Volurm's veiled threats still rang loud and clear in his ears. Failure on this mission was not an option. Horsk knew that to disappoint a member of the Federation's governing body could end his career. Or worse.

  "Sir, we have an incoming transmission on the senior command frequency, but there's no authentication attached," announced the communication's officer.

  "Patch it through," Horsk wearily instructed, tossing the tablet aside.

  The bridge crew grew silent as a greying man in an admiral's uniform filled the view screen. Horsk vaguely recognized him from somewhere, but couldn't quite remember the name. He waited for the man to introduce himself.

  "Commodore, this is Rear Admiral Pharn of the 3rd Fleet. I see you've decided to join our operation."

  "Operation? No Admiral, there must be some confusion – we're in pursuit of a Rebel ship responsible for carrying out a raid on a secure facility."

  "Hmm," Pharn made a show of looking disinterestedly at something out of camera shot, "No, Commodore, I think you shall be joining with my forces. A major engagement will be taking place within the next couple of days and your ships will be of much use to us."

  "With respect, my mission was delivered personally by a member of the High Chamber. If you would like to change our tasking, then you should..."