CHAPTER 6
Starship Thieves!
No sooner had the ejector mechanism cycled than space itself erupted in a blinding inferno of raw energy as both Gorn-Hoffs fired ranging shots—at precisely the wrong time for the HSTS, which had come through only half of Brim's intended escape maneuver. The little ship's hull took tremendous blast waves along its whole spine, which thwanged audibly like a child's elastic band. The local gravity pulsed and every loose object in the cabin took on a life of its own, caroming off the walls as if they were old-fashioned projectiles. The next instant, their whole Universe seemed to go mad in a cataclysmic explosion of light and silent concussion that spiked their Drive into silence. The starboard Hyperscreens shattered in a great confusion of flying crystal shards while Brim braced himself, waiting for the final instant of pain that would reduce him to atoms....It never came.
Panting in his suit as if he had run a hundred c'lenyts, he looked around the cabin—as his companions looked at him in obvious surprise.
"By all that's holy to the Gradygroats," Onrad whispered timidly. "D' you suppose we're dead?"
"N-no, Your Majesty," Aram quipped in a shaky voice. "I don't think so. Otherwise, we wouldn't be watching that." He pointed out through the remaining Hyperscreens.
"By Voot's great, greasy beard," Oodam whispered in a reverent voice, "we g-got the bastards."
Outside, both Gorn-Hoffs had barged past them on momentum alone and were now diminishing in the distance whipping and looping through aimless circles, completely out of control. Each had apparently lost a "wing," one starboard and one port. Space around them was filling with lifeglobes. "You put that torpedo right between 'em, didn't you?" he said.
"I tried," Brim said weakly, just now getting his breathing under control.
"Voot..."
The HSTS itself was now rapidly losing velocity, coasting down toward the great constant of LightSpeed, to which all HyperLight vehicles must return without Drive power to keep them going.
"Now what?" Aram asked.
"I was afraid somebody was going to ask that," Brim whispered, "'cause we sure can't stay here.
This place is gonna be full of rescue vessels in a matter of cycles—and none of 'em will be speaking Avalonian."
"Got a point there," Onrad said. "But lifeglobes're out for me. I can't be captured alive."
Brim nodded. He understood. "Can you restart the Drive?" he asked Aram.
The A'zurnian bent to his systems console. Miraculously, it still appeared to be operational.
"Drive's dead," he said presently. "The crystal itself checks out, but there's no way I can route power to it. The control system probably fused out during the energy surge when the torpedo got those two Leaguers."
Brim nodded; he'd been afraid of that, too. "What about the grav?" he asked. "Can you start that?"
''Yeah," Aram said after some moments of consideration. "But we won't have much control."
"Right now," Brim said, "we only need enough control to get the xaxt out of here. After that, we can worry about finer maneuvering." -
"But how are we going to get below LightSpeed?" Aram asked. "We need the Drive for braking, don't we?"
"The Fullstop," Brim said, pointing to a red button beneath a clear plastic plate at the lower right of the readout panel. "It has its own paths to the Drive."
"Holy Voot, I didn't think of that," Aram said. Every vehicle that operated in space had one—by intergalactic law. Otherwise, disabled ships could drift forever. Typically, the devices stored enough energy to bring ships to a full stop from whatever speed they were making at the time of failure.
"Hit it, then," Brim commanded. "Those two Gorn-Hoffs are probably drifting at close to 30M
LightSpeed. That'll put a lot of distance between us."
"Everybody strapped down?" Aram asked, sliding the plate from atop the red button.
"My restraints are powered," Onrad said, nodding toward his armrest control panel.
"So're mine," Brim answered.
"Mine, too," Beyazh said.
"Wilf?"
"Yeah. Go!"
Aram mashed the red button and their Drive activated immediately—at full power, shaking the already weakened spaceframe like a leaf in a windstorm. Brim was thrown painfully against his restraints while loose items in the littered cockpit once more took on a life of their own. The remaining Hyperscreens burst pulverized from their frames, and outside, the view of the Universe went crazy again—this time in all improbable colors of the rainbow as the ship quickly slowed toward HypoSpeed.
Slowly, the rainbow fused to crimson—then, haltingly, orange-outlined silhouettes began to appear out of the chaos. One moved, then another.
"We've made it!" Onrad shouted.
"Looks like," Brim said tensely as the wrecked cabin defined itself around him. Finally, normal vision returned. "Aram," he demanded. "What about those systems?"
"Fullstop's empty," the A'zurnian chuckled.
" And?"
"Grav looks workable, Wilf. But everything about this little tub is shaky now. Best we get her down somewhere—and soon."
"Er... when we're down..." Onrad began.
"When we're down...?" Brim prompted.
"Same as the lifeglobe thing," the Emperor said quietly. "I can't be captured. The last thing before that happens, one of you shoots me. Understand? You've all got side arms."
Brim winced, then nodded. So did the others.
"Swear it!" Onrad snapped. "Don't think of me, xaxtdammit think of the Empire!"
"I swear..." Brim said presently.
"So do I," promised Beyazh in a tight voice.
'And I," whispered Aram.
"Let's get this thing on the surface, then," Onrad said.
Brim called up a HoloMap of the area on his navigation display. Manipulating the image, he homed in on the nearest Effer'wyckean frontier stars, then searched for ones with human-habitable planets. Moments later, most of the pinpoints of light dimmed considerably. Three, however, increased in brightness. One orbited a star directly on the 'Wyckean Void. When he "touched" it with a logic pointer, a dialog box appeared at its side.
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Effer'wyck:
Frontier, Zone HN31.6 (G.V)
Star FTR8459/33.4S499 (typc-1)
Planet 3: Bra've (local appellation)
Habitable, anatomy types 2, 9, 9A, 13-21, some 25s (see Note CH-234)
Rotation period: 31 Standard Metacycles
Remote population centers: none dominant
Heavily forested in temperate band
History: greatest growth during mid 4800 century when population reached est. 645,000. Since then, gradual urban drift plus declining birthrate.
• General agriculture
• Ancient ruins: lost civilization
NOTE: Suspected advanced base for League Squadron 88.4 " Angrieff": 44+ GA 87 starships.
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"Not a lot of choice," Onrad grumbled.
"It's closest, so it's the choice," Brim said firmly. "Turn up your battlesuit cooling units. With no Hyperscreens, it's going to be a little hot in here during reentry, regardless of how much I ride the gravity brakes...." With that, he put the helm over and set course for the little planet its inhabitants called Bra've.
The little Effer'wyckean planet had long since ceased to reveal its curvature. The sky was still nearly black, a deep bluish purple, but it was no longer possible to see the stars as they appeared in outer space. The little Type-1 luminary star—never officially named according to Imperial records—had already outshone all its galactic siblings. Below, forests, rivers, and occasional cleared areas or fields were now visible in the dusk of late evening, including a large cold front that flickered with lightning and gave them a bump as they passed between some of its higher storm clouds.