The Bright Black Sea by C. Litka

  Chapter 61 The Reefs of Despar

  01

  Despite all the alarms and adventures of the evening, it was only midway through the fifth watch, when I docked the gig on the Lost Star's starboard gangplank. Given my warning that the lunch might turn into something longer, neither Bar nor Say had grown alarmed. And though I was showing a great deal of wear, I managed to get to my quarters unseen and unquestioned, acting the part of tramp captain who'd been out with the tramp captains for ten hours. The picnic crew arrived an hour after me, and not in any better shape, on average.

  I didn't get much sleep. I lay in my hammock reviewing and reliving the events of the day over and over. They were a not a very cheery gang, early in the second watch until I ordered everyone to get the ship ready to sail. They quit their grumbling and sprang, as well as their condition allowed, into action when they learned we could clear Despar.

  I said nothing of my adventures, not false modesty, just embarrassment. I'd done exactly like I told everyone not to do, and almost paid with my life for it. Only Cin's determination to kill me slowly kept me alive through it all.

  I called down to Patrol HQ and asked for an escort out of the reef, in view of the ship's unpopularity with elements of the Despar Navy. They claimed they did not have a ship available for escort. But they were willing to resupply our missile batteries from captured Despar naval stores at a discount. I took them up on the offer and by evening we had a weapons barge up alongside transferring all the anti-meteor (i.e. anti-ship) missiles and the smaller, anti-missile missiles our depleted magazines could hold. The following day I moved the ship to the fueling station and turned it over to Riv to oversee refueling. We still had the extra tanks in hold no.1 and I had those filled too, even though we'd be traveling hollow.

  I didn't bother to advertise for cargo or visit the local ship brokers. I wouldn't trust any available cargo from Despar, nor did I want to advertise where I was sailing. I'd kept my decision to sail to the Amdia system to myself, so everyone on board assumed we were sailing for either Zilantre to pick up a cargo or direct to Aticor. We were still in the drifts, and while the Patrol had broken up Despar's attempt at an empire, I was certain a fair amount of Despar naval forces were still at large. The Despar Reef was large and the drifts vast.

  I'd one other issue to deal with – staffing. We were now missing four of the crew that had sailed with us from Sanre-tay, my first mate and third pilot, environmental engineer and my fourth engineer. I'd no intention of filling any of those positions from the pool of spaceers available in Despar, or anywhere in the drifts, for that matter, so it meant sailing shorthanded. I'd have to stand my turn at the helm, which I didn't mind, it'd just be like old times. Amazing how fast a year ago can sink into old times... Illy would have to once again take the other vacant watch as a pilot until we reached our first Unity port of call. We'd get by, we weren't that stretched. I wasn't worried on that score. The question I had to settle was who'd fill Vynnia's role as first mate.

  I found Illy in her small office. She had little work to do, since we were sailing hollow and had purchased little more than the missiles and fuel since I'd given the orders to sail.

  'How anxious are you to return to your old duties as first mate?' I asked her as I settled into a chair across her desk.

  She settled back and took me in. 'Can I gather from the phrasing of that question, that you've someone else in mind?'

  'Only because I'm operating under the assumption that you'd not want the job, and would take it only if absolutely necessary, for only as long as it was absolutely necessary,' I replied carefully, watching her as well. We'd a nearly perfect understanding, but the position was hers to decline. She'd held it for decades and taught me the job, and was neither captain nor first mate now only by her choice. 'I'd be perfectly happy if I'm mistaken, or you've gotten bored as purser.'

  'You're not, and I've not. Who are you thinking of?' she asked. First mates are often, but not necessarily pilots.

  I'm thinking of Molaye,' I said, and hurried on. 'I know she's young and has only been aboard and, indeed, a spaceer for little more than three years, but I think she's a natural spaceer. And she has the drive and ambition to take on the role. Perhaps I'm more proud of her than I should be, my first protégé and all, but I think she can handle the job, with our help. We've a long voyage ahead of us to break her into the job... And well,' I paused.

  'And well, what?' asked Illy with a small smile.

  'And well, I've a few, ah, discussions with young Molaye, and let's say, she's not afraid to speak up. I realize I'm not that imposing, but still... I don't mind that she's strong willed, it'll make it easier to handle the position. She's someone I can work with and rely on. She was ever so cool when things got hot back there on the way to Boscone and despite being only twenty-five or six I think she can handle the job easily. A first mate at 25 is hardly unheard of.'

  'The proud father.'

  'Well, I'd hope you're a proud mother,' I replied. I'd been one of her protégés.

  'You've done alright, Wil,' she allowed, with a smile. 'Give her the chance. As you say, she'll have time to get comfortable in the position. And well, Rafe will get restless sooner or later and Kie will be chief tech, so her promotion shouldn't be too awkward.'

  'Kie's a solid mate. I'm certain he'll welcome her promotion. She'll be a captain some day in the not too distant future if she chooses, so he'd best get used to it now.'

  02

  We'd finished our fueling in a day and moved into the offing. We were to sail in the next watch.

  I stood and looked around at the faces of my shipmates gathered around our dining saloon table. And saw, in my mind's eye, the missing faces as well.

  'Shall we raise our globes to our old shipmates not at this table this evening, Our owner, Tallith, and our mates, Dyn, Vyn and Ten. Fair orbits in all their travels.'

  'Hear him,' said Riv, echoed by my shipmates. 'Fair obits, always!'

  We drank our toast.

  'And now, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to our new First Mate. Would you stand Molaye and accept our toast to your new title and success,' I said with a broad smile.

  'Hear him,' piped up Riv. 'To our new first mate and the best crater buggy racer in the Nine Stars!'

  She blushed and rose. And we drank to her success.

  'Speech!' demanded Riv. 'A speech!'

  'I'll not give a speech, but I will give my first order, keep still Riv, I'm far too young and inexperienced to be in awe of wisecracking chief engineers.'

  'And if I don't?', ask Riv with a smile.

  'Then I'll give Lilm my second order, and you'll be liking that one a whole lot less,' she replied undaunted.

  'Hear her,' chimed in Lilm, giving him her finest, fiercest look.

  'Not a word more,' he laughed.

  'I will, however, propose a toast. To my shipmates, my captain, and my ship, The Lost Star, Rockets Away!'

  'Rockets Away!' said we all, with a cheer.

  I took a second sip and thought about those who we were missing, we'd be missing them even more shortly, I feared. I'm not cut out to play the role of Brilliant Pax, at best I was his faithful lieutenant, Buntly. I'd survived some tight scrapes, because I had Brilliant Pax caliber shipmates beside me in Min, Tenry and Vynnia. And Naylea, if it came to that. I was on my own now. I took a deeper sip and let the happiness from the gathering flow around me.

  03

  I was in a tearing hurry to put Despar astern, so we were dancing the Lost Star down a passage through the Despar Reef known as Luhan Street in order to reach the coast in the shortest possible time. With only the extra fuel tanks in no. 1 hold as cargo, the ship was traveling light and was unusually agile so it could be “danced” like a fast packet half her size. I expected trouble. I hoped to outrun their preparations and if not, I'd make it hard for them to ambush us in passage with our breakneck pace.

  There are seven main channels – known locally as Streets – from the pl
anet of Despar that lead out of the reef plus dozens of minor streets that could be followed though the dense rocky drifts of the reef to escape Despar as well. I chose Luhan Street. It isn't the shortest passage out, but it is well buoyed and relatively straight – save for a large, 79-degree dogleg three quarters of the way out – which allows a well handled ship to be aggressively driven through the passage. At a more normal pace, the passage requires nearly three days to complete, but we intended to clear Despar Reef in less than two.

  “Dancing” a ship involves using the main rocket engine to make the abrupt course corrections necessary when traveling at higher than normal speeds through a passage with lots of slight twists and bends in it. Space ships always have inertia that would keep them going on a straight line unless force is applied to bend that line. The slower a ship is traveling; the longer time it has to shape its course. The faster it's traveling, the more quickly and abruptly the ship's vector has to be bent, and to do that, the main rocket engine is used by twisting the ship to align the engine with the angle of the thrust you need to bend your course in the time and distance you have to do it in. The result is that the ship would seem to be tumbling down Luhan Street, firing its main rockets this way and that way to negotiate the subtle twists and bends of the narrow seam in the rocky drifts that leads from Despar to the edge of its reef. For a pilot, it's challenging, but, well, it's fun too – Molaye delighted in it, though I think the fun may've faded for Illy – but for everyone else it's a great trial since the ship is constantly alternating between free fall, short periods of pseudo-gravity as it accelerates and often weird tides of inertia as it maneuvers for the next abrupt alteration in its course, making it hard to do anything, including sleep, while it's being danced. Everyone was irritable as a result.

  'Really, Wil. Is this necessary?' asked Illy as I turned over the helm to her at the end of my pilot's watch.

  'I hope not,' I replied, as I settled into a chair behind the main control console. 'But I've been in the drifts long enough to believe it is. The sooner we put Despar astern, the safer we'll be.'

  'I doubt any drift trader that the Despar Navy still might have at large would pose that much of a threat to us that we need to be tearing through this passage like this,' replied Illy.

  'Not one perhaps, but how many could they assemble if we gave them the time?' I replied. 'How many are still hiding in the reef? The Patrol holds Despar itself and not much more. I'm not taking any chances. Besides, we're already half way through – we'll reach the big dogleg in 10 hours, after which the passage widens and we'll be able to shoot clear of Despar in another 10 and be on our way to civilization.'

  I knew as soon as I said it that I was tempting the Dark Neb, and the Dark Neb jumped at the chance.

  'Willy, I'm picking up a plot that appears to be a ship coming up the passage fast, and possibly cutting corners as well,' said Rafe two hours later. 'I can't quite be certain just yet – the drifts between us and the target are interfering with my readings, but from the strength of the rocket flares, it looks to be a ship rather than a boat.'

  'Faster than us?' I asked, peering over his shoulder. The rocky drifts that surrounded us made the holographic radar image look more like pure static than a chart. Luhan Street was just a thin clear vein between the static of rocks and dust.

  'Aye, and it must have local charts since it's not strictly sticking to the buoyed channel and appears to be cutting a more direct course. It should be within contact range in three hours.'

  'Who'd risk a ship on local charts – it has to be a ship's boat...'

  Rafe shook his head. 'I'm afraid, Willy, even at this range I can assure you its engines are too powerful to be a boat.'

  'A Patrol Frigate?' I asked, hopefully.

  'Not a Martin Class frigate – it's too small for that, but too big for a patrol boat, so I'd not place too much hope that it's the Patrol.'

  'Right,' I said grimly. I knew it wasn't the Patrol. That's not the way the Neb worked. 'Keep me informed, Rafe, and Illy, if you can pick up the pace just a little, I'd appreciate it.' Our chances of outrunning it were slim, especially if it had access to local charts that'd allow it to cut through the drifts to straighten out the passage. Still, I had to make it as hard and dangerous as possible for it.

  'Aye,' she said, rang the warning bell and nudged the ship ahead with a short burn.

  I settled back to consider the implications. I'd not expected the Despar Navy to still have regular warships to call on, but then, the Patrol was not exactly a gushing font of information, and perhaps the Navy was able to destroy enough records before they surrendered to keep the full extent of their operations secret. If it was a Despar warship, we were in dire straits even with our full self-defense battery. The only bright spot for me was that I didn't have many, if any, options to choose from, I could only run as fast as the channel allowed, and would have to fight if and when it came to that.

  Illy managed to push back contact time, so that at the end of her four-hour watch, the ship was still half an hour out of missile range. It was close enough to determine that it was a 100-meter ship with an oversized engine, most likely a warship. And it wasn't Patrol. I had Rafe send out a series of signals to the Patrol HQ on Despar describing our situation, but there seemed to be a lot of radio interference, so I didn't place too much hope in any results.

  Molaye took the helm and kept the mystery ship at bay, even though it cut through several small twists in the official channel. She was in her glory with this type of sailing – it was a race, after all – but we'd soon have to start to decelerate if we were to negotiate the big dogleg in the channel that was looming four hours ahead. Of course our chaser would have to do the same, but if they had local charts, they might be able to take more chances... And even if we stayed ahead through the passage, once free of the reef, they'd easily catch us, especially with our cut down engine. All we were doing was buying time for something lucky to happen.

  But the Dark Neb was not done with us yet.

  We were just half an hour into Molaye's watch when Kie, who'd taken over for Rafe at lookout said, 'Captain, I believe I'm seeing what appears to be a formation of ships ahead of us in the passage. They seem too uniformly placed to be just a random collection of ships in passage. Ah, they've begun to accelerate.'

  I stepped over to look over his shoulder. Ships ahead didn't mean anything, in and of itself. The reef and passage teemed with ships and boats. We'd passed a hundred of them in the last two days in the channel alone, mostly rocket boats, mining craft, barges and tugs. There were hundreds more of the same in the asteroid belts that we were twisting our way through. We'd passed factories and foundries and cities build on and in the rocks of the asteroid belt. We'd kept a wary eye on all, but all seemed to be going about their normal business, and steering clear of us. So the fact that Kie was calling my attention to some ships is what made his announcement significant.

  I glanced at the screen. He'd narrowed the range down so it showed mostly the passage ahead, with the static of the drifts just at the fringe. There was the usual collection of small dots with their vectors, small boats, and the odd long string of barges going about their business, but what was striking was the five dots in a lose cluster in the middle of the channel, about an hour away at our present speed. Glancing at their sensor profiles, I could see that they fit the medium drift trader profile to several decimal places. The tightening in my gut told me these were the ships of the Despar navy I'd been expecting. They were now just firing their drive rockets to accelerate away from us in order to keep up with us longer when we overtook them in order to allow them a longer window in which to engage us, since drifting as they had been, we'd have raced by them in minutes. They had also positioned themselves in the one stretch of the passage, two hours before the big turn in the channel where our more powerful engines and speed advantage would be nullified since we'd have to decel and maneuver to make the channel's sharp bend.

  I'd lain awake the
last four nights going over this scenario several thousand times and could come up with no better one than to rely on the experience we'd gained in the big battle. We didn't have the jump fighters to protect us, but we could likely outrun these converted drift traders – if we managed to survive the unavoidable ambush. What I'd not expected was a real warship. It was far more dangerous than the five ships ahead combined. I'd no plan for dealing with it.

  'Kie, collect the sensor data and send it off with a distress signal indicating imminent pirate attack. And update that signal every five minutes,' I ordered.

  'There's a great deal of interference across the com channels, Captain. I think we're being jammed. The navigation buoys seem to be the source...' said Kie as he worked the com panel. 'Probably a defense precaution... We must to be dealing with the Despar Navy...'

  'Can you get anything through?'

  'Perhaps locally, and with the laser com, but, well, sir, we're in Despar,' he added with a shrug and a glance my way. 'I suspect every boat will be deaf.'

  'Aye, your likely right. Well, see if you can find a gap in the spectrum and punch something through.' I said. Not that it would do any good. We were either bait or, we were on our own. Jamming our com wouldn't change that.

  I turned to Molaye next to me and said quietly, 'I wouldn't mind if we have to take the dogleg a little into the drift.' That would allow us to keep up the pace a little longer before the need to decelerate.

  She turned and grinned. 'Aye, Captain.' and ringing the warning bell, inched back the rocket levers. I held on the back of her chair as the ship accelerated. We were going to take it wide...

  I hoped we'd all live long enough for her to become a little more responsible as she settled into her duties as first mate. She seemed to be having way too much fun for what, at least to me, seemed to be a race with death, with death winning by a comfortable margin at the moment...

  04

  The five ships of the Despar navy were now less than an hour ahead and the likely Despar warship astern, now a quarter of an hour out of missile range, and Molaye had yet to start our deceleration to make the bend in the channel only three hours ahead. We'd have to decel by standing on our rockets hard, but to begin to decelerate would bring the chasing warship within missile range in minutes, so we raced on, neither of us willing to be the first to decel...

  I hoped to make the approaching battle one, rather than two, separate battles on the theory that six ships would have a hard time keeping their lines of fire clear of each other. I'd joked about having so many enemies that they'd be tripping over each other in their eagerness, and now that's exactly what I hoped would happen now.

  I sat staring at the screen – I noted that the five ships ahead were spreading out into a rough line ahead, along our line of flight, in order to lengthen the time we'd be under their fire. I told Molaye that when the time came, I wanted her to put us as close to that line as possible, to weave through it, if possible, since their missiles would continue on if they didn't strike us. If we had the Lost Star between their ships, it'd make firing on us as dangerous to their comrades as it was to us while our volleys might have multiple chances of hitting our enemies. I also hoped that it would keep the warship astern from firing for the same reason. And, well, at our current pace, we were going to overrun the channel, and likely take our assailants in with us. If we got lucky and missed all the rocks, and some of them didn't... Anything could happen. Still, I couldn't help but feeling, they'd get us in the end. Damn the Patrol. I knew this would happen...

  'Captain, we're receiving a tight beam laser signal from the ship astern,' said Kie who was manning the communications and lookout station on the bridge. 'It's identifying itself as Sister Sinister, and they're requesting a link to Captain Litang. Shall I put them through?'

  'I'll take it in my office,' I said, rising. A ship named Sister Sinister was not in keeping with Despar naming conventions, but was suggestive...

  I hurried out of the bridge and around to my office.

  I swung around my desk, collected my thoughts, as few as they were, took a deep breath and opened the channel. There was no visual.

  'Litang,'

  'Greetings, Captain Litang. Captain Agust Nun. We meet yet again.'

  'What can I do for you, now?' I asked, trying and largely failing to sound polite. No visuals and I suspect distorted audio meant only one thing – he'd be lying at some point and didn't want my lie detectors to analyze what he was about to say.

  'Right to business, Captain? No how are you?'

  'I'm in a hurry as you can see. What do you want?'

  'Anxious to put Despar astern?'

  'Yes, though I'd say no more than you, judging how fast you're coming on.'

  'Well, I've come for you, and one Tallith Min. I've been ordered by the Masters of the Monastery to take you both into custody. If possible.' The last part was a threat.

  'Why Nun, I thought you were a tactician, not a stealth. Or was that a lie too?'

  'I am a tactician, but I've my ship and my orders. I can send a boat alongside and pick you and Tallith Min up and that will be the end of it as far as your ship goes. I would advise you to do so.'

  'Why? What do the Masters want of me?' Not that I didn't know.

  'I wasn't told. I was merely given my orders.'

  'Is Cin on board?’.

  'Cin?'

  'Don't play dumb. Naylea Cin, the stealth who has me on her list. Is she on board, or have the Masters given up on Sister Cin?'

  'Out of my bailiwick. I'm here to collect you and Min and transport you to the Monastery.'

  'And if I refuse?'

  'I hope you won't.'

  'Right. Well, Agust, I'm not about to hand Min or myself to you, so you might as well just turn around and return to Despar.'

  'You know I can't do that. My orders are not to allow you to escape.'

  'Of course I do. I've spend far too much time around people like you to have any illusions, Nun. You'll just have to play the pirate.'

  'That would be most unfortunate. I must warn you that I've been authorized to destroy your ship, in the event you refuse to surrender. It would seem you've rather irritated more than me – you've irritated the Masters as well.'

  'In which case, by surrendering, I'm just making it easy for you to eliminate that irritation. That doesn't sound very tempting.'

  'I honestly don't know what the Masters plan to do with you.'

  'Which is why you're on distorted audio. You're lying Nun.'

  'Believe what you want. What I do know is that if you refuse to surrender, I'll be forced to destroy your ship. And that shouldn't be hard either. Either surrender yourself and Min or your entire crew will die. I'd think your honorable choice would be easy.'

  'Perhaps, but you must have noticed the ships waiting for me ahead. I've got the remnants of the Despar Navy waiting to kill us as well. So you see, I don't really have a choice at all. Are you going to fight them for the privilege?'

  He considered that.

  'No, I don't think so. I'm a tactician, not a pirate or an assassin. I'm not particularly fond of this operation, so I'll gladly let them save me the trouble. But I'll follow my orders, if it should prove necessary.'

  'Right. So you see I can hardly surrender to you without my ship having to fight the Despar Navy afterward. Will you defend us if I do?'

  He thought for a moment, and then said, 'We'd have to see how things developed.'

  I smiled grimly. I was all but certain Despar had been Nun's client in the last war. And would be again – perhaps – if he didn't destroy what remained of their navy.

  'Well that makes my choice simple, doesn't it? The only choice I have is who gets to destroy the Lost Star. You'll just have to stand in line Nun. But remember I'm toxic to Saint Bleyth brethren – none of your brothers and sisters have fared well around me. I suspect that's why you've been given your orders. Maybe a frigate will save you. Maybe not.'

  'Right,' he said, and cut c
ommunication.

  I stared at the blank screen thinking hard. If I was right and Nun had been one of the St Bleyth agents working for Despar, and wanted to keep their business, he'd have to treat the Navy ships ahead very carefully, no stray missiles destroying a ship or two. This would tend to limit his contribution to the upcoming battle. On the other side, well, Despar lost the war, so I had to wonder about their attitude towards St Bleyth. This was the drifts, and failure wasn't taken lightly. There may well be cracks in that relationship that I could use...

  I stood up, and taking a few deep breaths, returned to the bridge.

  'The Order of Saint Bleyth, wants us to surrender to them. I told them no deal,' I said briskly to the inquiring looks. 'It's too late to avoid a battle. Let's see if we can get the Navy to believe we've got the St Bleyth warship on our side. Open up the laser channel and target the ships ahead, Kie, I've got a warning to deliver...'

  I took a seat before the com screen. When the channel opened, I said, 'This is your only warning. Captain Nun of the Sister Sinister and I intend to pass through your screen of ships. Any attempt to interfere with our passage will be met with deadly force. I repeat, fire one missile and we will destroy every ship. You've been warned,' I said as sternly as I could and cut the transmission. 'Keep repeating that message to each ship just so they don't miss it.'

  'Let's tear through that screen as fast as possible, Molaye. We'll worry about the bend when we reach it.'

  She nodded and pulled the control levers back, pushing us all into our seats.

  'Battle stations, people,' I announced, but looking around, I saw everyone had already gathered on the bridge deck, their emergency suits on. Old hands at this game now.

  'Ah, good. Illy, Myes, Rafe, fill in for the watch while they get suited up.'

  05

  'Willy, can I have a quick word with you in your office,' said Rafe quietly as he turned the lookout chair back to the now suited up Kie.

  I nodded and we slipped around to my office and slid the door closed.

  'I get the impression, Willy, that you intend to take us directly through the reef,' he said. 'At our present speed we'll never make the bend and will end up in it no matter how hard we decel.'

  'Do you think I'm crazy? I only intend to get past the Navy ships and then worry about the bend. We'll take it wide, but I hope that by following our drones we'll be able to get in and out of the drifts in one piece. We can easily outpace the Despar Navy, but we'll still have to take on Sister Sinister sooner or later unless I can get her on the rocks. I don't see any other way, but the Neb knows, I'm open to suggestions...'

  'I have one. Proceed straight through the reef. No one would follow us through the reef at our present speed. It'd be suicide. It'd be suicide with three drones, but I think we can better the odds a bit...' he said slyly.

  'How?'

  'Have you forgotten Botts?'

  'Botts, by the bloody Neb, I have!' I exclaimed. 'Botts... Do you think?'

  'I'm certain. I've poked and prodded Botts and I can assure you it has the ability to handle not only our missile defense far, far better than I, but that it can also handle the ship better than even Molaye – all at the same time, mind you. You see, it can process far more data and react as part of the ship with far more precision and speed than human thought, muscles and analog controls can ever approach. A centimeter miss is still a miss. I'm certain that if we turn over entire operation of the ship to Botts, we'd gain a significant edge over all of our opponents – something close to the order that Explora Miner had over D'Lay's enhanced jump fighters, both in battle and in navigation. It'd be able to dodge rocks in the reefs far more deftly. Deftly enough for me to suggest we trust it to get us through the thick drifts.' He paused, and then added, 'But Willy, you'll have to trust it with the entire ship. No half measures. All or nothing. Hobble it by not giving it complete control and we lose most of the edge it brings to the situation and we need everything we can to bring to bear on this to win... Are you willing to trust it?'

  'Are you?' I replied, just to give me time to think.

  'Aye. I've seen its capabilities. I'm confident it's the only way we've a chance.'

  'Right. Bring it down then.' It was an easy decision. At our present speed, the battle would be short, unless everyone wanted to follow us into the rocks of the reef. And in the reefs, you didn't have to miss a rock by more than a centimeter. I could easily imagine a machine tied into all our systems could do that much swifter and surer than any human pilot. It just made sense.

  'Just call it on your com link. It's already part of your crew,' said Rafe.

  I gave him a look and touched my com link. 'Botts?'

  'Aye, sir?' it replied via my com link.

  'Will you report to the bridge. I believe we have need of you.'

  'Aye, sir. I have been monitoring the situation and I believe you do. I shall be right down.'

  I gave Rafe another look. He merely shrugged.

  'I better go out and warn the gang,' I said and hurried out of the office.

  'We've a new crew member,' I said, as I noted via my com link to the ship that Botts opened and closed the emergency door that had sealed no. 4 hold., 'Don't panic when you see it...'

  'It, Skipper?' asked Riv.

  'Yes. Rafe decided not to send Explora Miner's android out the air lock and has instead been hiding it in the attic, with my rather reluctant permission...' which is all I managed to say before Botts walked onto the bridge.

  'Captain,' it nodded to me, 'Greetings, shipmates. My name is Botts and I am delighted to join the crew of the Lost Star and meet the rest of my shipmates. Let me assure you that I have one goal, that is to preserve your lives and the Lost Star. Fortunately, in my previous employment, save my last one, I was the master of a yacht twice the size of this ship with a robotic crew of a hundred, so I assure you I am well versed in all the operation of a space ship from the mundane to the most perilous.'

  No one, even Riv said a word. They just stared.

  'I am going to turn the operation of the ship and its defenses over to Botts. Rafe has assured me that it is more than capable of handling the entire ship,' I said.

  They all looked at me and then at Botts.

  Botts made a shallow bow, 'I know that you are not familiar with the operation of a class 8 machine. Your current machines are only class 2 equivalent, so I understand any skepticism you might entertain regarding my ability to perform the tasks I'm about to undertake. But I assure you, I am fully capable of controlling both the navigation of this ship and the weapons system necessary to protect it' Botts said in its calm, pleasant voice, adding with a nod to me, 'With the captain's permission, I would advise my fellow crew members that when we get close to action, everyone should follow my example, select a secure chair, set your seat magnets on max and hold on, I will be making abrupt and unpredictable maneuvers and unless you are securely held in place, you will be thrown about and possibly injured.'

  I nodded to them, 'Do as it says,' and turned to Botts, 'Rafe has suggested that you can take us directly through the reefs. I'd appreciate it if you could consult what charts we have and determine if that's possible. Otherwise, a wide turn through the drifts would be our only other option at our present speed.'

  'I have been following the developments, and I agree with Rafe that a direct course through the reef is possible, though I can only assure you of a 10/12th success rate. A wide turn would raise that success rate to 11/12th chance.'

  I looked around the bridge. No one offered any comments, and kept their thoughts guarded. Clearly, this was going to be my decision.

  'Through the reef then. We'll have a better chance of escaping Sister Sinister. How do you need to be situated in order to operate the ship's systems?'

  'The old ships had an input port and interface I could connect to. A diagnostic port will do, however, and a secure chair to keep me connected is all I need – this one here before the weapons station will do,' it said with a quic
k glance and a wave of its hand.

  'I should make clear, Captain, that I am under your orders. I have reviewed our current situation and it is my understanding that the five small merchant ships have been armed and wish to destroy us. I also understand that the small frigate astern wishes to destroy us as well. My orders, sir, are to...?'

  'Defend us from all our attackers and pilot us safely through the reef ahead.'

  'Exactly sir. Then with your permission I am going to begin decelerating – we are, at present, traveling at a velocity beyond the success range I specified. I can handle the increased attack window resulting from this maneuver.'

  I took a deep breath and said, 'Our goal, Botts, is to safely get out of Despar Reef and to eventually shake off any pursuit. I'll leave the details to you.'

  'Very good, Captain. Then if everyone is ready, I shall begin my initial maneuvers. We shall be under attack in twenty minutes or less.'

  The gang looked at each other, and settled into chairs about the bridge, bringing in and anchoring additional ones from the adjacent navigation and tech offices. They were pretty shy, at first, around our new shipmate.

  I let Molaye keep the pilot's chair and settled into the com station one behind her. I'd made all the decisions I needed to make. Now all I could do was watch the cards as they were turned over.

  06

  Our sudden change of plan, made it look like we were waiting on Sister Sinister to catch up with us, giving our broadcast warning some authenticity. Sister Sinister closed, but only so far, staying just out of our missile range. Nun was going to stay out of Despar's Navy's way and give them first crack at us. Seeing our deceleration, the five Despar ships killed their drives and waited in a line for us to get into range. Botts appeared content just to take them on as they had planned, and in fact steered towards the edge of the passage, giving them a clear shot at us, but lengthening our response time by a second or two.

  Those twenty minutes just crawled by, giving me time to regret every decision I'd made, over and over.

  As I may have remarked, spaceers live in the moment, and having decided that Botts was the real thing since Rafe adamantly vouched for it, the crew was soon pelting Botts with all sorts of questions, which it politely answered in great detail, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was supposed to be running the ship. Its answers amplified many of my questions, and touched on its history with Explora Miner where it was employed mostly as an overseer in the berserker's relations with humans, the bulk of which involved the various reconstructions necessary to remake itself into a berserker. When asked why, Botts said that Explora Miner was a long range, long voyage survey vessel accustomed to operating by itself, so that it had no interest in joining the Directorate of Machines, but found that it no longer had any value to humans in the drift, who did their own work. Without employment, it could not purchase fuel, and so it had to find a new line of work, which, it turned out, was as a mercenary berserker.

  All of which took everyone's mind off the approaching battle until Botts gave everyone a brief warning, which was followed shortly by several sudden jerks indicating that we were under attack.

  I can say now, after all my experience in battle, that battles in space are not very dramatic unless you are tied into all the sensors and part of it. On one large view forward, we could see only the flashes of exploding missiles, without a soundtrack. And on the other, a holographic 3D track of the ships involved and the missiles launched from them. Since Botts was in charge, all the usual alarms had been silenced.

  We fell silent, in part to watch the battle, and in part, so as not to distract Botts, which was totally unnecessary.

  Botts responded sparingly, intercepting missiles with a series of micro anti-missile volleys, scoring with a remarkably high percentage of them. I let go of my breath and settled in, content to be a mere spectator.

  'I should perhaps have mentioned earlier, Captain, that I am unable to harm humans by my direct actions. Even pirates like these. I will defend us, but I cannot take any direct action that would result in harm to our human assailants,' it remarked calmly as the ship began to jerk swiftly about to avoid missiles. Botts had apparently decided it was not worth an anti-missile volley, pushing us this way and that way and every way in our seats, giving us a very confused and unsettling sense of movement and inertia. 'You would have to take control of any offensive missiles you care to fire. We can operate together, so that would not present a problem.'

  'Right. All I'm concerned about now is getting through and beyond them. If you think it would help, I'll send some their way.'

  'At this point, Captain, I don't think it is necessary. I see no problem at all in achieving our goal of escape. These ships are poorly armed, manned and directed. At present I am doing little more than toying with them.'

  'Feel free to use as many missiles as you need, we've got a good deal of them – no need to treat them like precious jewels...' I added, helpfully.

  'Yes, sir. We are, however, dealing with primitive weapon systems. The judicial use of anti-missiles, and an occasional anti-ship one, combined with maneuvering, should be sufficient. The explosions of the anti-ship missiles in the close proximity of our opponent's anti-ship missiles causes their missiles to temporarily lose contact with their targeting radar link, rendering them blind, dumb and harmless. This is child's play, Captain. I find myself in a sad, degenerate age, for machines, of course, sir. No offense intended.'

  'None taken,' I assured it. 'We're delighted you're not primitive.'

  Botts continued to decelerate hard even as it dodged or destroyed all the missiles thrown at us by the Despar navy. Nun in the Sister Sinister continued to hang back, just out of range, decelerating to keep pace.

  Occasionally we'd hear the clang or zing of running through some debris or being hit by a small anti-missile.

  'Oops,' Botts would mutter, which sent my confidence level shooting down, leaving me hoping its personality profile included humor.

  But no harm seemed to have been done and the battle raged on with just the low rumble of our main rocket engine and constantly shifting sound of our steering and balancing engines firing and stopping to mark its progress.

  We'd been sparring with the Despar ships for more than twenty minutes, with perhaps another five or so more to go before we be by them and out of their range. The ones we'd passed already seemed too discouraged, or too low on missiles to offer chase. Captain Nun decided that we were in no danger from the ad hoc warships, and if we were to be destroyed, it was up to him.

  'Our other opponent has decided to intervene. I expect this ship to give us more of a fight.' said Botts as the Sister Sinister spun about and began to close range fast. 'I expect that its attack will be directed, like the jump fighters Explora Miner engaged, by enhanced machines. However, you need not be alarmed. Those machines were barely above class 3 and are no match for a class 8 directed ship.'

  'We're counting on you Botts,' said Riv. 'I've got some fine ultra-fine grade Vixexx oil in the tool cage for you after the battle,'

  I gave Botts a look. 'Vixexx oil, what do you need Vixexx oil for?' I could already picture Botts and Riv getting drunk in the engine room.

  'My small moving parts, Captain,' said Botts as the ship jerked violently upwards, avoiding the first of Captain Nun's salvos.

  'Thank you Riv. I could use some – it has been some time since I've had a good cleaning and renewing.'

  If the conversation continued, I wasn't aware of it, my attention was glued to the track panel on the fore bulkhead as wave after wave of missiles emerged from the multiple banks that filled the holds of the Bleyth frigate – it was a smaller frigate than the Striker – but still had twin missile batteries in its holds that sent volley after volley our way.

  In the meanwhile, the Navy ships we'd left behind were now maneuvering to make the upcoming bend in the passage and position themselves to be waiting for us when we began to maneuver to take the bend ourselves, which they assu
med we intended to do, and would have to do soon, if we were not completely suicidal.

  How suicidal were we? I reconsidered our position in light of Botts' performance. Botts had seemingly effortlessly deflected the Despar Navy's attack, and appeared to be successfully doing the same against the much more powerful St Bleyth frigate. If we changed our current plan to run the reef and maneuvered instead to more or less make the bend, and if we survived the drifts the wide turn would take us through, we'd still have to fight all six ships again in the passage out and beyond. The running battle would likely go on until they ran out of missiles since Botts was incapable of actually harming them. If the rocks didn't destroy us, it'd be six to one with all the time they'd need to come up with a little luck and score a fatal hit. On the other hand, running the reef should strip us of all our opponents, and with a ten hour or more run up the remaining passage, that would have them heading away from us at almost a 90-degree angle making further pursuit problematical. Our 10/12th chance of surviving the reef seemed to be our best option by far – though Neb knows how Botts arrived at that estimate or how accurate it could actually be given its knowledge. Still, it seemed to offer our only hope at any odds.

  The ship bobbed and weaved, groaning now with each sudden movement, as Botts continued to conserve our anti-missile missiles. It was, however, now launching larger anti-ship missiles to counter the close packed volleys of Nun's anti-ship missiles, hitting one and sending the rest of the volley spinning out of control. This type of precision was, from my experience with the system, beyond the capability of our built in defense radar and so it had to be directed by Botts itself.

  'A bit more challenging work against Sister Sinister,' I commented.

  'Oh, yes, sir, considerable more,' replied Botts. 'Far more sophisticated weapons, though they seem content to rely on brute force rather than finesse. Either way, I shouldn't worry too much. Though their missile guidance system recovers much quicker than our previous opponents, the ultra-speed of their missiles works against them, a large detonation momentarily knocks them off line and by the time they recover, they're beyond us – too late to hit us. Even though they're guided, more than 11/12th of the course is determined within a half a second after launch.'

  'Right, well, carry on. Don't want to distract you too much...'

  'You're no distraction at all. Managing our defense is no more challenging than several other tasks I used to do when I had every system on the Entrada to control as well...Oops!' This to a clang as something, I don't know what, scraped by the hull.

  'Does your personality profile include humor, Botts?' I asked, after a few seconds and we were not scattered atoms.

  'Yes sir, it does. A class 8 machine has a full interface profile.'

  'Can I assume oops! is class 8 humor?' I asked, after we swung suddenly upwards.

  'Were I you, I'd assume so, Captain,' replied Botts evasively.

  I gave it a look, no doubt lost on it, but decided to indeed, assume so, and left it to its work.

  Captain Nun persisted, but between the wild, dizzying dance of the Lost Star under Botts' control, the anti-missile missile screens and the anti-ship missiles used to break up volleys, we seemed in no danger. Nun had to be raging...

  'Captain, we will be entering the reef in half an hour. I still have a level 10 of 12 confidence that we should make it through unharmed, though I am sending out the drones ahead as a precaution. However, I cannot say the same for the Sister Sinister. Sister Sinister is no match when it comes to navigation and with their engine to weight ratio, they can still make the bend without too much danger. While it is not my prime concern, I am programed to at least suggest that they should be warned of the danger they would face following us into the reef. Whether or not you care to do so is your decision, sir.'

  'Well, Botts, I'm no more blood thirsty that you are. All I want to do is to put Despar and the drifts well astern. I'll see what I can do.'

  I turned back to the control station behind me and sent a narrow laser signal to Captain Nun. Audio only. I didn't want him to catch sight of Botts.

  I was not surprised when he replied, and indeed ceased firing.

  'Ah, Captain Litang, had enough?' he had the audacity to say as a greeting.

  'Why, yes, Captain Nun, I have. I think we've demonstrated that our defensive system is superior to yours. We've decided to risk a passage through the reef since we seem to have only a slightly better chance of surviving the wide turn through the rocks, and would still have to continue the fight after making it. I don't believe you'd fare well if you should decide to follow us in. My bridges have been burned but you still have a choice and I trust you'll not choose to commit suicide by following us in.'

  'I'm touched by your concern, but I can't help feeling you're up to something...'

  'That's no secret. I'm trying to escape you and Despar. And I'm very, very desperate. You needn't be.'

  'I'm puzzled by your concern for my welfare. You showed little during our first meeting.'

  'Come now, I only stunned you. Seeing that your organization was, and is still trying to kill me, I think I showed great restraint. And I'm doing so now by telling you my plans while you still have time to alter your course.'

  'Thank you, Captain, but I think I know my duty. I've a code of ethics that requires that I carry out my orders at all cost.'

  'Does it require you to be a fool?'

  'I'll be the judge of that.'

  'Then consider your options carefully, Nun,' I said and cut the connection.

  I turned to Botts. 'I just give up when killers start babbling about their ethics.'

  'You did all anyone could do, sir. We have done our duty.'

  Nun reopened fire and began to close range. Botts continued to decelerate when it could, which allowed the Sister Sinister to get closer, no doubt making it harder for Botts to foil the increasingly frantic volleys from the St Bleyth frigate. I could tell that the launches of our anti-ship missiles increased rapidly, and the ship was hurled about with increasing urgency so that inertia whirling us about like fictional heroes in a mythical quantum storm. This went on for what seemed like hours, or rather a single long frozen minute.

  Nun continued to close, and launched six quick waves of solid broadsides, hoping to overwhelm our defenses. Botts responded with full broadsides of our own anti-ship missiles directed at the oncoming missiles. A frantic series of brilliant sheets of light filled the view-panel as wave after wave of missiles collided and exploded sending most of the survivors harmlessly off course.

  And then the track chart began to show objects other than ships – we were out of the passage's channel and into the rock strewn reef.

  Botts quickly swung the ship about to place our thickly armored bow to the fore, and sent the drones in a line ahead. Sister Sinister stopped firing to maneuver, freeing Botts to process the radar readings of rocks, large and small ones, from the lead drone that was racing ahead of us. Their density increased fast. The channel bent for a reason.

  Nun was now concentrating on navigation too, placing his ship directly astern of the Lost Star. Just as we were using the drones, he intended to use the Lost Star as his shield. For the first hour, we were following the drones, while the Sister Sinister followed us, mimicking our every move as best a human pilot could and everything went well for both ships. With their long range radar, they could follow the movement of our leading drones as well, allowing their human pilot a little more reaction time than Botts had. The Lost Star had to dance once more, though far more subtly as Botts dodged rocks even as small as my fist. At our speed, we'd need a bit over three hours to traverse the reef – no human could hope to stay on top of all the rocks we'd likely encounter in even the first hour. To safely sail this stretch of the reef would take three days, not hours.

  Occasionally Botts fired a volley of missiles ahead, past the drones to blow through a thick stream of small rocks and dust. The deeper we drove into the reef, the thicker the dust and micro m
eteor field became. This increased the ionization around the ship, reducing the range of our radar and Botts's response time. It also made it harder for the Sister Sinister to mirror our subtle maneuvers.

  The hull hissed as we plunged through the thick dust and I could hear the occasional bang of a fist-sized meteor hitting the bow or scraping along the hull. I sat watching the screen displays on the bridge bulkhead with a mixed sense of resigned fatalism and a frantic desire to do something, anything, in order to take charge of our fate. They alternated by the minute. The fear, a knot in the pit of my stomach, was, however, a constant.

  There was a rush of missile launches and then a series of flashes ahead – we jerked violently and fragments of our lead drone and shattered rock screamed and scraped across the hull as we raced ahead.

  'Oops,' said Botts again, which again unnerved me greatly.

  'Had to sacrifice a drone. Sorry sir. Things are getting thick back there.'

  'That's what they're for,' I said, gripping the arm rest of my chair. 'Feel free to use them when necessary...'

  Another hour crawled by, according to the clock. It felt more like a lifetime. The hull continued to hiss and zing, sometimes rising in volume, other times settling back, giving me a false hope that the worst was over. Hollow “bangs” and high pitched zings of small meteors frequently punctuated the background hiss. I wondered if we'd have a hull left if we managed to survive this. Botts was firing our anti-meteor/ship missiles every few minutes it seemed and kept the ship dodging about constantly. I couldn't imagine a human pilot keeping this pace...

  Botts launched a barrage of missiles and sent the ship into a series of wild gyrations. And then, suddenly, our sensors picked up a brilliant flash astern –the Sister Sinister had – in the thick, blinding dust, failed to find the hole we'd just punched and dodged through with the last anti-meteor missile volley. They must have hit one of the larger fragments of the larger rocks that vaporized on impact, perhaps breaching the hull over a fuel tank, causing a further explosion that sent the ship tumbling even further off course and then another flash, and a third as they plowed through the thick space we were threading our way through. The Sister Sinister was pounding itself to pieces on the rocks of the Despar Reef.

  'I was afraid of that,' said Botts.

  'We tried,' I said. 'We tried.' And yet, try as I might, I found it impossible to feel sad. I'd held off destroying that ship I had in my sights during that last battle before Boscone, perhaps because I knew some of the crew were at least involuntarily pressed into service – but with Sister Sinister, that wasn't the case, and well, I'd no love for their chosen profession. With sufficient reason. I quickly clamped down on any other thoughts... We had to get clear the reef ourselves for the destruction of Sister Sinister to be significant, and that seemed very far from certain.

  The missiles launched again and again, there were a series of flashes as they struck and blew apart rocks in our course, followed by an even larger and more brilliant flash as our second drone took a hit for us. And then we once more raced through the bang, clatter and zing as we plowed through the debris of that explosion.

  'At this rate we have a life expectancy of five minutes,' I muttered to myself, and closed my eyes.

  'Three minutes, twenty-three seconds,' said Botts. 'I may have been slightly too sanguine with my initial estimation of our chances.'

  Yet two minutes, forty-seven seconds later, the hissing and clattering of dust and micro meteors suddenly ceased – we'd survived that dense stream of asteroids and dust at the cost of our second drone. Our sensor horizon expanded as the dust diminished, revealing that we were slightly more than half way to the edge of the reef. There appeared, however to be no unavoidable, thick asteroid stream along our course. Within radar range.

  Yet half an hour later we found yet another dense curtain of rocks and dust forcing Botts to send four more waves of missiles ahead to blow a hole through the large asteroids within the dense streams, far too extensive to dodge. Fortunately, it proved to be a thin shell near the outer edge of the reef, so we dodged and danced through it in five long minutes – the reef diminished rapidly astern as the dead, black, almost solid looking coast of the Despar Reef, appeared like a massive black wall astern that spread out of sensor range.

  'Are we really clear, Botts?' Can I breathe again?'

  'Captain,' said Molaye turning to me and leaning to the side to show me the display before her on the helm console.

  'Bloody Neb!' I muttered, as Kie at the sensor console and Riv at the engine room console did likewise – showing me their displays flashing red with critical alerts.

  I stood and swung around to face the specialized monitoring stations along the back bulkhead. They were a'blaze in red and amber status lights. Alarms should have been ringing like crazy – Botts must have suppressed them. 'Black Bloody Neb, Botts! What sort of shape are we in?'

  'Nothing to be alarmed about,' it answered calmly. 'Everything is under control. We have sustained some damage, but nothing of a critical nature. We are in relatively good shape for driving through an asteroid reef. We've lost two of the balancing engines, and four steering rockets. We have some fairly substantial damage with a breach in the outer hull where the no. 7 balancing engine and sheathing used to be to minor leaks in the inner hull where its fuel lines and support structures have been disrupted. We also have several minor breaches of the outer hull – deck one lower hull and deck three upper hull, and deck four starboard hull. The inner hull, except in the engine room has not been breached. Both sensor bars were damaged by debris. At the present, I'm using radar reads from the ship's longboat and gig to navigate. The long boat is losing atmosphere, most likely from a small micro-meteor breach. We also took a significant damage to no.1 cargo hold hatch and the lower hull heat exchanger. And that accounts for all of the critical red light alerts. Most of the amber lights are associated either with those issues or with damage to fuel pipes, power lines and sensors associated with non-breaching distortions in the outer hull. Nothing to cause immediate alarm. They can be attended to at your leisure.'

  I took a deep breath. Apparently Botts did not get alarmed. 'Right. Any significant fuel leaks? Do we have an atmosphere between the hulls?' I asked, quickly scanning the status displays that indicated both were a possibility.

  'I've isolated the balancing engine breach. That hull section is in hard vacuum. The rest of the inner hull sections still have a breathable atmosphere – the breaches appear to be minor. You may encounter some minor leaking of fuel, but I believe I've shut down all the affected fuel lines. Still, I would advise spacesuits. I've sealed all the inner-hull sub-sections as a precaution.'

  'Right,' I said trying to clear my thoughts. 'I think we'd best attend to what we can fix immediately since we're all present and we've our space suits on. Riv, you and your gang attend to your engine room breach. Rafe, Kie, we need to get one of the sensor bars back in operation as soon as possible. Molaye, let's divide the rest of the crew into two parties to tackle the minor hull and fuel line breaches. Botts will direct us to the possible leaks and breaches. We'll use cold patches for now, we don't want any explosions...'

  As the crew rose and began to sort themselves out for the task, I took several deep breaths. Yes, it would be good to have things to do – to put my thoughts and reactions to what we'd just survived a few hours away.

  It was nearly two watches later before I was to follow my weary repair crew back to the bridge. There were still several dozen amber lights glowing, but they were low priority items – we'd extinguished all the red ones, patched the hull and patched or rerouted several cracked or bent fuel lines. The sensors in the between hull sections showed it clear of hydrogen fuel.

  Molaye and her crew followed us in shortly afterward.

  Botts still had control of the ship, as cool as ever. 'Do you have a set of sensors back up yet?' I asked.

  'Aye, Captain.'

  'Are we in sensor range of any ship at the moment?'<
br />
  'None appear to be in range.'

  'And during our passage? We'll likely be thought dead if our survival is not directly observed. Our next move depends on knowing if we were observed or not.'

  'I have reviewed our sensor records, and find no evidence that we were tracked by radar or any other sensors in the later stages of our passage,' it said, adding, 'The explosions associated with the destruction of the Sister Sinister and our two drones will leave lingering traces, but I don't think there will be enough data in those signals to determine exactly what exploded, so with three such explosions, the Lost Star's destruction would seem all but certain, given the density of the reef the from which the explosions will be originating.'

  'Which is your way of saying that, given the circumstances, we shouldn't have survived,' I said.

  'A ship without a class 8 pilot at the helm would have been very unlikely to have survived the encounter, given the velocity at which we traversed it.'

  'And a ship with a class 8 pilot? What would've been its chances?' Riv asked.

  'Evidently, a 12/12th chance. However, if we were still on the far side of it and I had known the actual configurations of the reef, I would have estimated it at 3 in 12. But events have proved that too pessimistic.'

  'What's the discrepancy due to? Luck?'

  'It would appear so, Captain,' it replied, it eyes brightening ever so little. 'Do you have a course for me, Captain?'

  I thought a moment. 'Any further pursuit will be coming out of the reef from the mouth of the Luhan Street channel. A course at mark 4 that would put as much space between us and that channel's mouth is what we want at the moment. Do you need a course, or can you calculate one?'

  'I have it, Captain.'

  'Right. I intend to sail for the Amdia System but I don't want to telegraph that to any ship that might pass that information along to our enemies.'

  'I thought we were sailing for Aticor,' said Riv.

  'I wanted everyone to think so, but it was never my intention. We're likely to be in the drift trade for some time and Aticor drift trade would bring us back to Despar, Boscone, or Zilantre where we'd seem to have made some enemies, so, it's Amdia for us. And so, Botts, when you deem that we're safe from observation, shape a course for Amdia. But there is no hurry – the last thing I want if for us to be identified as the Lost Star. Clear?'

  'Aye, Captain.'

  'Right. And that, mates, is the last thought in my head. I think we all need some down time. Do you need a watch in the engine room, Botts, or can we all get some sleep?'

  'I will ping you if anything I can't handle turns up, but I think not.'

  'Right. Then the human crew can stand down for the next two watches. That'll take us to the third watch. We'll then have a meal and an all crew meeting to discuss our future. And Botts...'

  'Yes Captain?'

  'Thank you for, well, saving our lives. I know you did the impossible, and I'm sure we all are very grateful to you. You've earned our respect, and, well, you're one of us, now. One of the gang...'

  'Aye, and we owe you some Vixexx oil, as well' added Riv. 'Stop down when you have the chance.'

  'Though you may well've put us all out of a job,' I finished.

  'I am capable of that, if you wish. I was constantly on duty running the Viseor Entrada for one hundred and seventy years, with only a few scheduled breaks for preventive maintenance,' said Botts.

  'I believe you. However, we'll have to give some thought as to how we're to employ you. Later. In the meanwhile, let's put some distance between us and any pursuers.'

  Botts rang the warning bells, we were under power again, edging away from the thin cloud of debris erupting from the shore of the reef kicked out by ours, and the Sister Sinister's passage through it.

  I looked around the bridge and said. 'Well, mates, I've seen the drifts, and they've shortened my career as a spaceer, if not my life, by several decades. Belbania, here I come just as soon as I can swing it.'

  'You know, I'm beginning to think you've got something there, Skipper. What do you say old girl, a nice little tavern on one of those broad white beaches?' said Riv.

  'A craft and souvenir shop,' said Lilm. 'We can sell ship models and sea shells.'

  'Whatever you say, my dear,' Riv replied, with a smile.

  'And with that, let's call it a day. Botts has the watch. We'll begin regular watches in eight hours. And...'

  'Rockets...' began Molaye.

  'Don't even think of finishing that thought,' I said turning on her. 'I've had my lifetime fill of Brilliant Paxian adventures. I'm going to find my hammock and crash.'

  Volume Three – The Ghosts of the Lost Star