Iron Dart (Illustrated): Dark Galaxy, #2

Prologue

––––––––

Preen, Captain of the Imperial Pride, was starting to realize that the intelligence that had brought him to this system was bad, or at least, inaccurate. The Worshipers of the Blue Star did not seem to be using it as a base, or even a staging post. The Worshipers had been a thorn in the side of the emperor for decades, longer for all he knew, he never had been much good at history, but something seemed to have riled them up lately. There was rebellion in the air, talk of it everywhere, and a group like the Worshipers, a cult taking advantage of the forces of order being distracted by all the talk of rebellion, were bound to want to position themselves to move out of the shadows.

One of their favorite tricks was to ambush interstellar freight, usually in some out of the way location, somewhere like the Denebar system, where his ship was now sitting and watching. It had seemed a good and credible lead, but it hadn't panned out, there had been no sign of the Worshipers. Numerous merchant convoys had passed through, on unscheduled stops to do illicit deals, that part of the intelligence had been good, but there had been no sign of the insurgents.

His spaceship was accompanied by another, the Firebolt, and the two spaceships were trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, as inconspicuous as two large fighting ships could be. In order not to scare the convoys away, the two spaceships had to sit dark and silent, and not too close to likely places the merchants would choose for their shady deals, but not too far away either. It was a balancing act, staying just the right distance not to spook the merchants, who were up to no good and on the lookout for the authorities, while staying close enough to intervene if the merchants were ambushed. It was a kind of waiting game that the navy called darkwatch.

Both warships remained stationary and cloaked, in the shadow of a large asteroid, waiting for the enemy to appear. This darkwatch had lasted for a week and a half now, both ships with their cloaking systems deployed and all weapons and drives idling on minimum power. Both captains had had plenty of time to get heartily sick of sitting and doing nothing. Now that the intelligence was proving so unreliable, Preen was beginning to realize what a waste of resources it was. Both spaceships were frigates of the Tarazet System Protection Fleet, and they were both formidable. One, the Imperial Pride, was positioned among the asteroids that formed a belt between the inner rocky planets of the system and the other, the Firebolt, was positioned out at the edge of the system, just within the cloud of debris surrounding the inner planets. The Imperial Pride was the more modern of the two starships with only two hundred years of service, while the Firebolt was a venerable design, half a millennia old. Both warships were retrofitted with the latest systems on a regular basis however and both packed a punch that was equally potent. Preen was on the bridge, standing with his back to the bridge crew, staring out at the field of stars when the darkwatch abruptly came to an end.

What was that? he asked.

He had heard an alarm from one of his crew's consoles, but the inexperienced whelp hadn't called out the cause. He could call the information up for himself of course and display it in his own retinal information grid, in fact he could operate the whole starship himself if need be, all the information he needed provided to his cybernetics, all his commands instantly obeyed by the ship's computer, but the point of having other bridge staff was that he shouldn't have to.

Double checking, the bridge officer replied, a young woman called Gethen, freshly promoted to her position and lacking in real experience.

More time wasted, the captain cursed to himself, an experienced crew member would have given a gut feeling, given the captain something to go on. Instead the captain had to wait long seconds, until Gethen was sure of what she was looking at. Though she wasn't his only inexperienced officer, the whole bridge crew was straight out of training.

Confirmed, Gethen said at last, but still hesitantly, It's a Buzzer ship emerging into normal space.

The entire bridge turned to look at Gethen, their faces each a mask of shock. The creatures that most people simply called Buzzers were a species of artificial life that was the Tarazet Empire's greatest enemy.

Buzzers? the captain asked. Are you sure?

Chapter 1

––––––––

Kaden was trying to concentrate but he was distracted by the forward view port, though not by the view through it, he was used to the ever-changing view of stars visible from his spaceship. The thing that was distracting him was that he could see himself reflected in the thick layer of transparent armor, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. He was, he saw, no longer a young man, his slim arms no longer muscular and his face starting to have character. His head and arms were the only things he could see in the small pool of light available but he knew that time had been equally unkind to the rest of his physique.

His arms were twitching as they moved over the controls of his spaceship, the Iron Dart. As his arms moved, he could hear the synthetic fabrics of his spacesuit rustle, almost echoingly loud in the silent cockpit. The silence reminding him that he was the only crew member aboard the spaceship, though he was used to that, and even found it comforting.

Looking through the forward view port was pretty pointless of course, even when he wasn't distracted by his own reflection. He was traveling faster than light, deep in interstellar space, hurtling through a medium that wasn't close enough to vacuum for comfort, still plenty of stuff to slam into. But there wasn't much to look at, just stars parallaxing so slowly past him that only a computer would notice. The data he should have been studying was dancing right in front of him, between him and the view port, a hologram full of depressing information he was having trouble concentrating on.

It was all part of a single file, his latest target's file, essentially the same as all the others. The poor idiot had pissed off somebody and been marked for incarceration. That part was always the same, but there were a bunch of details he needed to know to maximize his return, for example, did the incarceration company that put out the contract require the target all in one piece for actual physical labor, or were they just going to scoop out the brain anyway and attach it to some kind of organic processor or other, because if it was the latter, Kaden could use his sidearm much more liberally and still get paid when he delivered the target.

Bounty hunting most called it, but he preferred the official Tarazet Department of Incarceration term. According to the TDI he was making a deputized arrest. He shook his head, trying to concentrate, and finally dragged his eyes back to the file, flicked a finger at it to push it open and spew out its spiderweb of data. One data node was grandly titled Biographical Details, but Kaden thought of it as his target's life story. He tapped on it to open it.

So who are you? he muttered in his gravelly voice, the predictable and inevitable result of the amount of hooch he drank, and what hellhole am I going to have to chase you down in?

He was expecting the usual story, some kid with a problem with authority, somebody who didn't know how to keep their mouth shut. Probably unemployed or with some job in a space yard or mining colony that wasn't much of a step up from the forced labor of incarceration. But that wasn't what Kaden saw, he saw a technocrat, not a kid, a young woman, born into the family of a diplomat, hot housed, modded, trained and educated to slip with the least amount of friction into the role in government assigned to her.

Kaden closed the file then opened it again, refreshed the page, but nothing changed, there was still an incarceration contract there, bearing the name of one of the most powerful families in the whole empire. Somebody who was part of the system. He'd never seen such a thing. He supposed people from that tier of society got into trouble, even got fined sometimes, but incarcerated, by the kind of incarceration company he got contracts from, it must have been a mistake. Or...

You must have really pissed somebody off, he glanced at the name again, Zenya.

He closed the life story section with a wave of the hand and tapped open her rap sheet with a peck of the finger, though in the file the rap sheet was called the Summary of Criminal Behavior and Acts. Usually the idiots he hunted had a history as long as his arm but Zenya had only a single crime listed, and it was a euphemistic listing at that, Improper Data Handling, which didn't mean much to Kaden, and in fact, could mean almost anything. The list of known associates was just as sparse. Kaden scratched his head. Usually he just threatened or bribed a selection of scumbags from the target's list of known associates until somebody gave them up, it was the only way he knew how to do his job. How could he threaten or bribe the kind of technocrats Zenya hung out with. He wouldn't even be able to get past their security.

By the powers, he cursed.

This was promising to be anything but easy money, and he'd already drunkenly accepted the contract. He cursed again.

Is everything all right?

The question came from the ship's computer. Outdated, in need of various upgrades, rated a little below AI, but not much, and easily three times as smart as Kaden. It had a businesslike female voice, without any hint of emotion. Emotions cost extra.

No Dart, Kaden answered. Take a look at this file. How did we end up with this job?

Kaden cursed again, before Dart could answer his question, but then his mood suddenly changed.

Hey, he said, I've got it. The family. She's probably hiding out with the family, and they'll probably give her up, all gift wrapped as soon as anyone half-way official looking turns up.

He looked at the file again, searching for the information he needed.

The family is located in the Hermek System, Dart said, helpfully.

Whereabouts? Which planet?

There was a pause.

They seem to own the entire system, Dart said, the emotionless voice almost sounding apologetic.

There was another pause while Kaden digested this information, and the extreme family wealth that it implied.

Doesn't change the plan, he said, Set course for the Hermek System. If there are any small rocky planets we'll start with one of them.

Kaden felt the lurch of the Iron Dart changing course. He grimaced at the sensation, it meant the spaceship's inertial dampers were on their last legs, unable to cope with high Gs, but who cared, he wasn't planning on doing any dogfighting. He smiled. This job promised to be interesting, even if there was the distinct possibility it would get him killed. He returned to reading the file, this time with much more attention. The file was a window onto another world, a world of wealth and privilege that he could only dream of. Even a huge lottery win wouldn't elevate him to the echelons of society that Zenya's family inhabited.

***

Kaden was still reading the file, three days later, when the Iron Dart entered the Hermek System. He chose a nice safe insertion point, away from obvious attack vectors, slowing from light speed as he approached a quite dense asteroid belt around the inner, rocky planets. Even from that distance, and even to the Iron Dart's short-sighted sensor suite, the planets showed unusually low levels of development. Few structures, little in the way of agriculture, not much in the way of industry. Prime planetary real estate with nothing much being done with it. He suddenly thought back to his home planet, Pity Me, and the contrast to that polluted, overpopulated, barely-habitable chunk of rock couldn't have been more stark.

The system had an unusual mix of traffic, Kaden noticed, as the ship's computer built a holographic map of the in-system traffic. Something was definitely odd about it, but Kaden couldn't immediately work out what it was. He wasn't too worried though, that's what computers were for, after all. All he had to do was ask.

What's wrong with this picture, he asked Dart, jabbing a finger at the relevant display.

The answer was instant. Dart may not have had emotions but if you provided the right data, she could crunch numbers and work through conclusions.

Most system traffic patterns are dominated by trade routes, but this system traffic looks more like military patrol vectors.

Oh, right, yes, Kaden nodded. All the spaceships are flying in big circles.

Not all, Dart said, and as she spoke a red ring appeared around one of the spaceships on one of the patrol trajectories, This unit has changed course. It is heading for our current location.

Spotted us already?

A while ago, in fact, Dart corrected, Unless we attempt evasive maneuvers, the unit will arrive in twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes, huh, Kaden nodded, Do you think that's its top speed?

It is too far for my sensors to identify ship type or guess its capabilities.

***

It was another five minutes before Dart could be persuaded to hazard a guess. A frigate, she said, which meant it was hundreds of tons heavier than the Iron Dart. The Iron Dart was just an old, wedge-shaped heavy shuttle, reconfigured many years ago for use by a prospector, then reconfigured again by Kaden, more years ago than he wanted to remember, with the addition of a cell to cart his captured marks off to incarceration. The hull was mostly bare metal, pockmarked with small craters, evidence of the trouble his underpowered shields had keeping the Iron Dart from being damaged by some of the larger crumbs of rock and debris floating around in interstellar space. There were systems welded, bolted and bonded all over the hull, adding to the chaotic appearance. Every time the galactic patrol mandated some new sensor system or signaling system as a minimum requirement, it had been bolted onto the ancient hull, without any of its long line of owners feeling the need to remove a system just because it had been made obsolete. Everything was improvised, everywhere there were panels missing, all the systems badly maintained, covered in carbon scoring and micrometeorite dents.

The Iron Dart didn't even have a bridge, just a cockpit protruding forward, spoiling the lines of its wedge shaped configuration. It only had two cabins, if you didn't count the cell as a cabin, and that was about it. Externally, there was an airlock, a single weapons turret, and nothing much more. Just an old rust bucket, the smallest, cheapest thing he could find with any kind of faster than light capabilities.

Even the shuttle that the frigate sent over to take a look at him was bigger than the Iron Dart. On the plus side, watching it approach finally gave him something to look at through the forward view port. The shuttle had weapons mounted on its back and belly and had wide-door airlocks, designed to spew out large numbers of space marines at high speed. A shuttle designed for boarding actions, Kaden decided, for latching onto much bigger spaceships than the Iron Dart, inserting boarding parties and tearing their insides out.

They want to talk to you, Dart said.

Kaden nodded and the message the shuttle was broadcasting was relaid through to him.

Open your airlock, the message said and, as the Iron Dart only had one airlock, they didn't need to be any more specific than that, We will send a boarding party. Have your documentation ready.

I could just transmit a copy over, Kaden offered helpfully.

There was no answer to his offer, instead he saw one of the giant airlocks on the flanks of the shuttle open, revealing a team of five marines in power armor. The suits of armor obviously had some type of thrusters, because the five warriors were soon on their way over to his spaceship under their own power. Kaden climbed out of his acceleration couch, took his blaster out of its holster and tossed it onto the chair he had just vacated, he didn't want to give them any excuse to shoot him, and he went to the airlock to wait for them to arrive. Instead of his pistol, he armed himself with a data pad, prominently displaying the warrant for Zenya's incarceration. He didn't have long to wait before the door to his airlock opened and two of the warriors entered, the maximum number that could fit in the enclosed space of the airlock in such massive armor. Kaden held up the pad, and the goon in the lead took it from him.

Hold there, the fighter said, the voice distorted by the armor's comms system to the point it was difficult to decide if it was a man or woman.

Kaden did as he was told and made sure to stay put. Eventually a hologram appeared with them, life-size, with a feint green glow. Kaden figured it was being projected by the nearest goon's suit of armor, but he couldn't be sure. The hologram was a man in his later years, even older than Kaden, and the man had a scowl on his face.

I am Septimayer Sleetmen, the hologram said, and you are the first bounty hunter scum to have the audacity, or stupidity, to come here looking for my daughter.

***

The encounter didn't improve from there, the old man shouted a lot more, the goons took a cursory look at the inside of the Iron Dart, and then they were gone.

He didn't even ask my name, Kaden said.

I don't suppose it seemed like important information, Dart said, From his point of view.

I suppose not, Kaden said, with a shrug, Hey, I zoned out there for a while. The old geezer went on and on, but did he say anything about us having to leave the system?

No, Dart said, He was not happy to see us here, but he didn't order us to leave. The frigate is requesting an itinerary and flight plan though.

Tell them we'll put one together, and it'll take ten minutes.

Kaden went back to the cockpit, put his blaster back in its holster as he sat down in the acceleration couch and stared out the window, wondering where his target could be, with a whole system to hide in. He opened the file again and looked up some half-remembered details.

They're promoting us for that flight plan, Dart said.

Tell them we're heading for the second planet.

Done, Dart said, Why that one?

Just a hunch, Kaden replied. She went to university right here in the system, an elite sort of place. If she has any friends, maybe she made them there. Maybe we could pick up a lead.

The Iron Dart accelerated and headed for the second planet, taking hours to travel the relatively tiny distance with its woeful sublight engines.

***

The Iron Dart slipped effortlessly into orbit around the second planet, but it didn't land. Kaden was a little surprised when Dart hadn't automatically started an insertion into the atmosphere, and he asked why.

Landing is forbidden, Dart told him, except at two small spaceports.

Well pick one and set us down, Kaden said, absently.

There is a problem.

Oh? Kaden said, becoming more alert.

Yes, Dart confirmed. We do not have enough credit to cover landing fees.

What? Kaden was shocked. How much are those landing fees?

Dart provided a holographic display with the landing fees and optional services displayed on it. Kaden gasped, then laughed, then cursed.

I'm starting to think we may have to abandon this contract, he said.

There is a penalty for abandoning a contract, Dart reminded him, That's why I remind you to read them before you take them on.

Yeah, yeah, Kaden mumbled petulantly, it had been a long day. I'm going to bed. They can't charge us just for orbiting can they?

No.

Then wake me in eight hours. Maybe an idea will come to me, otherwise we'll have to abandon this one.

Kaden went the few steps to his tiny cabin and threw himself on the bunk. He had been thinking hard, planning, had almost convinced himself he would be able to pull off this unusual job, but now he would just have to admit to himself that it was hopeless and pay the penalty fee for noncompletion. Then he could get back to hunting the type of scum who lived on planets where he could afford to pay the landing fees.

Kaden had a couple of slugs of hooch to calm his nerves and then slept fitfully. He awoke later, from some unremembered dream, well before Dart was due to give him his alarm call. His eyes flicked open, to see in front of him just the usual bulkhead, streaked with grime. It was rusty and dirty but, in the dim light, it didn't look too bad. Something was nagging at him, something about the way he had woken up. It wasn't like him to wake up early. A lurch. He'd felt a lurch. The ship's crappy inertial dampers warning him that it was now accelerating. That's what had woken him.

Kaden rolled out of bed as fast as he could manage and, now that he was facing away from the wall, he saw that there was somebody else in his room with him. The figure raised a gun and fired, a splash of intense blue light and then blackness.

Chapter 2

The spaceship was in geostationary orbit, locked above a single point on the surface of the small yellow planet below. Even a cursory glance was enough to tell that the spaceship wasn't of human design or manufacture. It was more architectural than any human spaceship, like a giant arch, but also like a spire. And there was something else strange about the geometry of the craft. It was constantly in motion, gradually shifting. Nobody would notice it from a brief look, but stay and watch for a few hours and the realization would come that, like a cloudy sky, everything had changed, even though it was still essentially the same. The changes were something at the edge of perception, giving the starcraft an even more otherworldly aura.

There were no lights, either inside or outside the spaceship, and there was no inscription, no station-keeping vectored thrusts from maneuver drives, nothing to show that it was alive or if anybody was aboard. There were no obvious weapons either, no turrets, no barrels, but even so, there was a sense of threat, a feeling of enormous energies barely contained by exotic technology, a potential for the spaceship to burst into activity at any moment, like a predator lying in wait.

The hull of the spaceship was a mixture of two different surfaces, smooth areas, without rivets or welds, or any of the other details required by human designs, but also other areas that were enormously complex, technology folding around itself like the roots of a mangrove tree, especially at the engines. The engines looked inactive, at least as far as a visual inspection revealed, just massive cave-like apertures, dark ovals in the rear of the spaceship.

And over the whole structure there was a shifting pattern of different shades that was in constant motion. A pattern of dark bronze against even darker bronze, a subtle blend of burnt, metallic ochers. There were parallel lines that suddenly diverged, chevrons, complex geometric shapes and a recurring theme repeated over and over again of hexagons. Hexagon after hexagon, slowly moving over the surface, like a pattern of geometric waves propagating across the hull. In contrast, the planet below was a very uniform yellow, the yellow of deserts and sulfur, but here and there dotted with knots of more complex color, the orange of sand enriched with organic molecules, the lime green of local vegetation, and the brown of dusty rivers.

***

On the surface of the planet, among the lime-green vegetation, by the side of one of the dirty rivers, a single figure was standing alone, a young man, in clothes with a military cut, colored the same burnt ocher as the hull of the spaceship orbiting above. There was a hexagon motif to the clothes, just as there was to the designs spread across the surface of the spaceship. He was unmistakably human, but his clothes came from the alien spaceship. His name was Knave and, quite by chance, he was the captain of the powerful alien vessel. He could feel its presence above him, and he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or if he was connected to the spaceship on some subtle level. He took his eyes off the horizon and glanced upwards, but the sky looked empty, the spaceship far too far up overhead to see with the naked eye.

He gave up looking for it and once again his eyes returned to scanning the horizon of the desolate planet, uninhabited, orbiting an unremarkable star, within a bubble of space that didn't seem to be of any interest to anyone. He admired its stark beauty for a while, scrubby land here by the river, though there was inhospitable desert beyond. The primitive plant life looked like tufts of backcombed hair, and in the distance there were high mountains of yellow rock. It had an undeniable raw presence, this planet, the gritty wind of the dense atmosphere stinging his cheek, the intense sun making him squint. He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, he hadn't glanced at his chronometer and he didn't know how long a day was on this planet, so he had no way of judging time passing by the movement of the local sun.

He heard footsteps behind him. Suddenly he was no longer the only visitor to the planet, now he had company. He knew who it was, knew the sound of the boots, sensible boots, worn by somebody who wasn't afraid to hike in rough terrain. She hadn't had to hike to find him though, just teleport to his location.

How are you? she asked, simply.

He didn't turn round to look at her, instead gazing off towards the sodium peaks, but he answered.

I'm fine, he said, just fine. The healing our new spaceship provides is nothing short of miraculous, like everything else about it.

We did what we had to do, the voice behind him said. Almost the whole Tarazet Deep Space Navy was there, all trying to kill us. We had to fight back. Besides, I didn't think you were much of a fan of the navy.

No, Knave said, smiling despite himself. Certainly not after they press ganged me into service.

They were both silent for a while, Knave looking at the view, unable to hold her gaze. He wasn't sure why though. A wave of emotion told him he had some connection to this woman, Altia. She took a few steps and came to stand beside him. They both looked off into the distance, side by side, silently taking in the view.

What a barren rock, she said.

I quite like it, he mumbled. In fact, I think it would make a great place for a base.

Oh no, her reply was instant. We are not going to hide out here in the armpit of the galaxy, waiting for the navy to find us.

We could fortify it somehow, Knave said, build a stronghold.

A base, she snorted, and then gestured at the sky. The spaceship we now have at our disposal is more powerful than any base you could possibly build down here. No, we keep moving.

And go where? his voice was as low as his spirits. Where can we go. We're alone. Alone and hunted. We can't go back to our previous lives.

Didn't you have anywhere in mind, she asked, when you stole this spaceship from under the noses of the navy? Didn't you have some idea of a bolthole you could lie low in?

No, Knave said. It wasn't like that. Besides I don't have any family, no significant other. Nobody to hide me, or miss me when I'm gone.

I do, she said, her voice low, but my life from before this is over. What does it matter now?

They saw a shape move in the underbrush, a large shape.

What was that? Knave hissed.

Relax, she put a hand on his shoulder, just an insect. On this planet, you and I are the only mammals, and the only creatures with blasters.

So, Knave said, after studying the bush mistrustfully for quite some time, visions of insectile tigers stalking through his mind, If we aren't going to stay here-

We aren't.

What are we going to do?

There was another long pause, but Knave had the feeling that Altia had been thinking about something, that she wanted to say something. Perhaps she even had a plan. She was the smartest person he had ever met, and if anyone had a plan, it would be her.

We are going to bring down the emperor, she said, her voice even, making Knave gasp in shock at the audacity of the suggestion. The order to kill us came directly from the top. I wouldn't have believed it possible if I hadn't seen it myself. It was like suddenly being able to see clearly. We have to tear the corrupt mass from the heart of Tarazet and rebuild it, top down. Anything less will mean always living in fear. They'll never forgive or forget. While the emperor and his supporters and flunkies are in power, there'll be no rest for us.

Knave's face had been a mask of shock as she started speaking, but that initial reaction had faded, replaced by determination.

Well, Altia, Knave said, with a glint in his eye, "it's good to have a project. Why not make it the overthrow of the government of one of the most powerful