Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Consequence (10 page)

              "You can tell us what this means," Ravine said softly.

              Loren looked at a monitor as Ravine pointed to it.  The screen came to life, showing what appeared to be an external view of space.  Two Priman cruisers appeared in the camera's field of view and began firing towards the camera's location.  Bright light flared, washing out the camera's optics on more than one occasion.  The meaning was clear; this ship had been fired on by other Priman vessels.

              "I can't explain why your own people attacked you," Loren began, confused as to where this conversation was going.

              "Wait," was all Velk replied with.

              The camera slewed its position, trying to track the other Priman cruisers as they maneuvered around the stricken Ravine ship.  The camera feed suddenly shifted, showing the aft of the ship, engine bulges visible at the bottom of the frame.  Just as Loren was about to ask what he was looking for, a ship shimmered into existence.  A Crusader class hunter/killer.  Loren recognized the scorching and mismatched hull plates, as if the large weathered lettering on the bow proclaiming it to be 'CSS AVENGER' wasn't enough.  Avenger launched a spread of torpedoes, her laser batteries opening up and unleashing devastating energy blasts across space.  The camera couldn't track the shots all the way to their end, but Loren understood.  Avenger had revealed herself to save Ravine's ship.  The camera footage ended with Avenger accelerating away, mag shield powering up and rendering her invisible again as a Priman cruiser drifted dark in the background.

              "Oh.  That." Loren didn't know what to say. 

              There was silence in the compartment.  With the recirculation fans inoperative like most of the bridge around them, there was almost no background noise.  Loren found it unsettling to be on a ship that wasn't making sounds.  It was like a person who wasn't breathing; there seemed to be no life in the vessel.

              "A breach of trust," Ravine said softly, almost accusingly.

              "Breach?" Loren replied.  "We haven't betrayed you.  Avenger wanted to shadow us to make sure we hooked up with the right people.  Besides, what good is one Confed ship in Priman space?  They're not out there to try and cause problems; our wellbeing is what they're taking care of, and by what I just saw I'd say it was mission accomplished.  Your own people attacked you."

              "And yet she failed to announce her presence," Ravine continued, drawing the conversation back to his chosen course.  He turned to look at Velk.  "You have not spoken up.  I take it you also knew of this?"

              Velk only hesitated long enough to compose his thoughts.  "I knew they would attempt to follow us for a while.  They also know they could lose track of us at any time, and they were willing to take that risk with my potential escape as well as Commander Stone's life.  I do not fear their motives."             

              "Perhaps you should."

              Ravine seemed spent, not knowing what to say next, so Loren took it as his chance.

              "You see the video; my ship left us and faded away.  They didn't attack you or finish off the other two ships.  And now they've left me and the Representative behind in your hands.  I'd say that's a hell of a lot of trust they're putting in
you
, Mr. Ravine."

              Ravine looked into Loren's eyes, unblinking and intense.  Loren wanted to look away but held the Priman's gaze.

              "Alright, Commander Stone," Ravine finally said.  "We will continue.  You are right about needing able bodies right now.  The bridge has been severed from the main computer; all the controls are dead.  The bridge crew is at our secondary control room, but we are short handed.  We plan to render assistance to the ships Avenger crippled.  Whether they knew the specifics of their objective or not, we will at least make sure they are rescued.  Judgment will come at another time."  Ravine sighed and sat down in a utilitarian chair, one of many that surrounded a holographic briefing table in the center of the compartment.

              "There was a time that an act like this would have been unthinkable.  And I, for just the briefest of moments, wondered if we
should
in fact help the crew on those other ships.  They attacked us, after all.  This all goes to illustrate Representative Velk's point; we as a people are straying from our ideals, our path.  We need to rediscover ourselves, and at this point I care less about claiming this galaxy for ourselves and more about the future of our civilization."

              "What can we do?" Loren asked.

              "The crew is trying to restore bridge functionality.  Representative Velk will man the stations as they become operational.  You can help with whatever tasks he needs assistance with.  I hope that doesn't seem beneath the second in command of a starship."

              "I've been the sidekick before, and I can do it again." Loren assured Ravine.  Velk motioned to him and they both left the compartment to work on restoring the bridge to service.

Six

 

 

 

              It was break-out day, Web realized as he regained consciousness.  The last night's interrogation had run long, and after having some success with their latest setup the Primans had continued with the questioning long into the night.  Web had the realization that at some point they were just trying to see if he'd crack; he had a hard time remembering much of it but was certain that after a while the meaningful questions dried up and it was just a steady diet of injections and jolts from the electrodes taped all over his head and torso.

              Halley had told him they were going to use him and her as lab animals for their interrogation drugs; that was just one of many reasons to get out of this lockup as quickly as possible.

              He rolled to his side in order to make sitting up easier, pausing to let a mild wave of nausea pass as his inner ear tried to figure out which way was up.  He needed a vacation.

              He shuffled out into the common area to find breakfast wrapping up.  The plan revolved around not drawing attention to meetings with himself, Mithus and Halley, so he sought out only Mithus at the far end of the cafeteria where the man sat alone. 

              "Saved you some breakfast," Mithus said as he held out some sort of bread covered in a round piece of processed meat.  Web took it and ate gratefully.  It tasted like old socks, but he couldn't afford to be picky; he'd need his strength later this afternoon.

              "Going to be ready later?" Mithus asked quietly.

              "I'll be great," Web said with a smile.  "Just need a quick catnap, three months of rehabilitation, and a complete change of blood.  Then I'll be on top of my game."

              "Start with the nap.  I'll check for your signal at afternoon courtyard time.  We probably won't talk until then."  Mithus clapped him on the back as he turned to leave Web alone.  "Good luck."

              There were so many details to worry about, but as usual Halley seemed to have everything in hand.  They had a couple of Senators to bring in as guardians to shepherd the rest.  They had to make sure the guard timetables didn't change and the one with the comm rig on his shoulder was still watching them all from inside the fence.  Web had the easy part; he just needed to let the Primans beat the snot out of him.

 

 

              The day passed without incident.  Web saw many of the senators in the yard at midday, milling about and in some cases arguing about everything from how to save the Confederation to insignificant trifles like what kind of reparations the Enkarrans should pay to Confed or the Talarans.  As if there was any Enkarran Empire to go after at this point.  Sometimes Web wondered if they were actually helping by trying to save these people to put them right back in charge of the system they helped muddy up in the first place.  In the end, he consoled himself with the fact that he didn't know what else he'd rather have.  There were a thousand different ways to run an empire, but not all that many were born of a system that truly represented the average citizen.  Maybe these folks could be encouraged to take a few pointers by way of showing appreciation for their impending escape.

              Web saw the sun reach lower in the sky and start to pass behind a certain rooftop tower in the distance.  While the days were strictly regimented, like any good prison the occupants didn't get all that much information; there were no clocks and when people asked they were met with hostile glares.  They only knew it was late afternoon, but not exactly when.  However, things always happened at the same time in the camp, so Halley had somehow calculated that when Web saw the sun go behind a particular landmark, it was time for him to put on the show.

              Web sauntered up to a pair of guards that were manning the doorway back into their prisoner barracks.  The yard, blocked in on all sides by connected buildings as well as another interior fence inside that, was an effective cage.  There were blast shutters over the two entrances that Halley assumed would drop closed in no time flat if there was a problem.  Once those were down, the prisoners simply didn't have anywhere to go.  There were no windows or access doors.  There were no real exterior features, so the senators wouldn't be scaling up the twenty story structures to get to the roofs, either.  Web only knew that he needed to cause a distraction so Halley and Mithus had a chance to fulfill their part of the mission.

              "Hey guys," Web said as he approached slowly, deferentially.  He needed to get close, not get zapped by a stun baton from twenty feet away.  "You have a minute?"

              The Primans looked at each other, then back at Web.  He couldn't read their expressions.

              "Go back to the yard, prisoner," the one on the left commanded.

              "Sure, sure," Web continued easily.  "I don't want to get in trouble.  I get enough of the business from your bosses at night.  But I don't think I have a lot of time here, you know what I mean?  Let's be honest; I think they're going to use me as a lab experiment.  I'm not sure where it's going, but you have to know that, right?"

              Their expressions hardened but neither spoke right away so Web pressed on.  "Look, I'll get to the point.  There are a few women in here.  Some of them are pretty good looking, you know?  I haven't had the chance to get with a woman in so long.  It's been real tough out there.  Fighting, running for your life, hiding underground; not a lot of opportunities for any grab-ass, if you know what I mean.  So I'm begging you two, help me arrange for some time with one of these ladies.  I share my rations with them, maybe those prison nights get a little less lonely, you know?"

              The Priman on the right spoke up this time.  "Prisoner, your difficulties are not my concern.  Neither are your breeding habits.  Return to the yard or we'll stun you and drag you there."

              Web pressed on.  As he'd talked, every time he made a gesture he'd inched forward a little bit more.  He was a few feet closer to them now than when he'd started.  He could close that gap a little more.  If it was a distraction they wanted...

              "Seriously, what would it take?  I have needs, ok?  Just tell me what the interrogators want to know from me and I'll cough up anything.  Should I give in to the probes they're running?  Should I fight it?  You have no idea what I'm going through here!"

              One Priman sighed and stepped forward, unclipping his stun baton from his belt and extending it with a snap as he flicked his wrist.  Web sank to his knees and put his hands together.

              "Please, I'm begging you!" he pleaded as the guard approached.  The Priman took a short step as he reached just the right distance in front of Web to zap him.  Web saw it and acted.  He rolled forward over his left shoulder, coming back up with his left arm raised and grabbing the guard's wrist.  He continued his motion forward as he started to stand back up.  His right arm went through the guard's legs and wrapped around his right leg as he stood and lifted.  The guard went up and backwards, crashing to the ground with Web on top of him.  Web grabbed the stun baton and tapped the man's temple with it, the loud crack of the energy discharge heard halfway across the yard. 

              Panicked senators started to run in the opposite direction, fearful of being near the event when reprisals came.

              The other guard was almost to Web, stun baton forgotten and blaster raised.  Web swung the baton and knocked the blaster from the man's hands, losing his own baton in the process.

              The guard got a jab in on Web's cheek, armored gloves jarring the Confed man.  Taking the opportunity to move forward, the Priman gut-punched Web twice, sending him to the ground in a heap.  He grabbed Web by the collar and dragged him away from the doorway onto open ground where he kicked him twice before backing off.

              Web dragged himself up far enough to rest on his elbow as he glared at the Priman through a rapidly-blooming black eye.  He wheezed as he gathered his breath, making every effort to not scan the yard to see if Halley was making her move.

              "You pathetic, sick and twisted, rock-humping-" Web began, but was cut short as the guard kicked him in the stomach again.  Web was reduced to a fit of coughing as he fought for breath.  The Priman backed off while checking on his partner, who was already regaining consciousness and looked like he had vengeance on his mind.

              "I wasn't done yet!" Web gasped.  "You're so ugly..."

 

 

              The guard supervisor had noticed the altercation almost immediately.  He looked around the yard and saw the political prisoners scattering, most likely afraid of being associated with the military prisoner.  At least he was willing to stand up for himself, unlike this bunch he was being forced to watch over.  He considered calling in backup but changed his mind when he saw Web go down and receive a few swift kicks from the guard.  He shook his head slightly.

              "That one was always going to be trouble," he said softly, watching Web yell something at the guard that caused another kick to the stomach.

              "Don't you know it," he heard from behind.  He made to turn but didn't get any farther than the idea that he should have checked his six.

              Halley punched him in the kidney as hard as she could, the man's light armored vest having protective plates in front and back but nothing to safeguard the sides of the torso.  The jab shocked his system and caused him to stagger to his knees and lock up.  Though he didn't know it yet, he'd be urinating blood for a week as well.  Halley grabbed him in a choke hold from behind, and it was over seconds later.

              "I thought you were going to let me take him out," she heard Mithus say from behind her.  "I wanted to vent on someone."

              "Sorry; Web's my boyfriend, so I get to avenge any bodily harm to him."

              Mithus just grunted as he hit the release tabs from the antenna on the guard's shoulder.  He grabbed the Priman's sidearm as well.  "Fine, then, but I at least get the gun."

              "I won't need one."             

 

 

              Web squinted at the sun as the latest round of kicks faded.  Oddly enough, after a while, they seemed to feel less intense.  Maybe it was some sort of shock.  Maybe he was just getting used to the punishment.  Either way, though, tomorrow was going to be a very rough day.  He braced himself for the next kick but none came.  Not wanting to get his hopes up and then have them crushed by another steel-toed boot to the guts, he simply waited as he saw two humanoid shapes stand over him.  Halley sure as hell owed him for this.

              "Get up, you lazy bum," he heard Mithus say.  Web risked a fully eyes-open glance around and saw that the two shapes over him were in fact Halley and Mithus.  He smiled as best he could through the pain.

              "I might need a quick nap and perhaps a change of underwear."

              Halley knelt down to get close to him.  "How are you doing?  You know, you could have just annoyed them by talking a lot.  You do that well."  She smiled as he looked in her eyes.

              "They were getting ornery, so I had to improvise," Web grunted out.  "Now help me get up please so we can get out of this hole.  What's your plan on that, by the way?"

              Halley grinned as she cocked her head a bit, raising one ear higher and looking up to the sky.  "Shhh.  Listen."

              Web didn't hear anything at first, and then he did.  Some sort of low rumble in the distance, followed closely after by air raid sirens.

 

 

              Five minutes earlier, a medium sized troop transport at a local refurbishment depot had gone haywire.  Dropped off six days before and listed in the computer as a major overhaul candidate, it had been moved to one of the outlots and put in the queue for refurb.  Oddly enough, the orders had called for it to be fueled and serviced for flight and listed as a potential auxiliary.  The depot mechanics didn't argue; most were from Callidor and were forced to work here anyway, so they just did their jobs, kept their heads down and hoped for the best.  The transport had sat quietly for the last week, doing nothing of interest at all until now.

              Now, for some reason, the ship powered up and sealed the doors.  Engines spooled and repulsor thrusters lit up as the ship lifted slowly off the ground.  Ground service cables connecting power and oxygen strained and finally snapped as the ship rose higher and higher while the depot workers watched.  What in the world was this supposedly inoperative ship doing flying itself?

 

 

              Web followed Halley's gaze as she looked off in the distance.

              "Halley," Web said slowly, "what have you done?"

              She grinned at him as she explained.  "I may have bought and installed an illegal AI autoflight controller in a Priman troop transport.  Then I might have dropped it off at a local refurb depot and had them stash it in a corner where it wouldn't be bothered.  And now, it might be about the time that I programmed it to fly in here to rescue us."

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