Star Vigilante (Vigilante Series) (36 page)

“Unlikely. My orbiting Nanoshells report that the partial ship is severely crippled, but still under helm control. They could put up a good fight, but we can destroy them.” In his mind, the AI shared his feelings, his emotions, his thoughts. “Is that your wish?”

“No!” He calmed down. Maybe he was catching whatever it was that had affected Mata Hari’s language circuits.

Eliana looked newly hopeful. Had she guessed his plan? “
Mata Hari
,
we want
Excellent
of the Anarchate to destroy them, not us,” Matt said. “Understand?”

“Yes.” His AI grew intensely interested. “What is your StratTac plan?”

“One moment. Estimate the time of arrival for
Excellent
.”

“Thirteen minutes, twelve seconds, 320 milliseconds, nine nanoseconds and—”

“Good enough,” he interrupted. “Begin an orbital drift toward
Obliteration
. Make sure it will put us directly between them and the likely station-keeping orbit of
Excellent
.”

“Complying.”

Matt turned to Eliana, who fixed an emerald gaze on him, a look open and honest.

Her face appeared remarkably unravaged for having lived, like him, through the prospect of sudden death, unexpected betrayal, being used by Spyridon, and the disquieting silence of Zeus Station. She was still young, at least as far as memory time is counted. But what was she thinking? More importantly, what was Legion thinking and doing? Matt felt certain the Mican would not accept political defeat without further conflict. Could he move before Legion moved—whatever that move might be?

Eliana smiled faintly. “Your thoughts, my dear Vigilante?”

“I am thinking you are too beautiful, too wonderful and too good to me . . . for you to betray me. And yet, I wonder if that is your final obligation. Is it?”

Her gaze wavered, wanting to deny his wild shot, but finally she looked down. She sighed deeply, with great sadness. “You’re wrong. I had hoped we could—”

“What? A Cyborg and a Crossbreed—what future is there for us? Your brother Ioannis demanded your return. What will your answer be?”

She looked up, her manner uncertain. “I don’t know. Now. For so many years I’ve sought out, bartered for, and schemed for a neonatal placental unit of my own. So I could have a child.” She blinked swiftly as tears flowed. “I was promised such by Ioannis if I was successful in finding a Vigilante who could save us from the Stripper. Spyridon was right—first generation crossbreeds are infertile with other Derindl, or with each other.”

“What about with a Pure Breed human? Or even a human cyborg?”

Eliana showed a wild look, hope warring with something else. “I . . . I’m not sure if—”

“What’s most important to you? Children, or someone who cares for you, who is totally devoted to you? Who loves you?”

“Matt!” she said, sounding terribly confused. “Oh Matt! Love . . . love is something I never hoped to—”

“Matthew,” interrupted
Mata Hari
in a calm voice. “We’re on station as close to
Obliteration
as is prudent. Your instructions?”

He turned away from Eliana, his heart tearing open, his inner self lacerated with his need, his desire and his fear. He’d learned long ago never to get close to any other human because of exactly what he now felt. And because of the betrayal he always expected. It was the one lesson that stayed the same—in the Anarchate universe everyone lied, everyone betrayed, and true faithfulness was reserved for dogs and software programs that didn’t know better. At least the Promise would never betray him—nor he it. Though he still hoped for a life with Eliana, she was clearly torn by family ties, even as she spoke with confusion. Steeling himself, Matt downloaded his plan into
Mata Hari’s Tactical CPU, speaking it aloud also. It was time for his Patron to understand how well he’d learned his lessons.

“We are fully shielded from all-spectrum detection by
Excellent
?” he queried.

“Yes, but only on our
Excellent
-facing side, as you specified,” said
Mata Hari.
“The Nova has not yet deployed Nanoshell sensors between us and Legion’s
Obliteration
. But the Anarchate ship is very close. Matt, is this action prudent?”

“Yes!” He remembered the ancient Earth proverb—the enemy of my enemy is my ally. “Activate one HF laser cannon. Fire at the Halicene vessel in one second. After firing, go back to Stealth mode, quickly shift away from line-of-sight between
Excellent
and
Obliteration
, and do not resume normal spectrum identity until the Halicene ship is destroyed. Comply!”

“Complying.”

Beside him, Eliana kneeled stiffly on the deckplates, watching him closely and aware of the risk he took. She did not reach out and touch his shoulder like before, though it seemed she wanted to.

The Cyborg did his job.

To an outside observer, their ship would have wavered, then disappeared to nearly all subatomic and electromagnetic sensors. No one would detect their drive push sideways—at least, not until some Nanoware sensor picked up the drive byproducts. By then, it would all be over. So he hoped. But the capabilities of Nova-class battleglobes of the Anarchate were a mystery—the only thing anyone knew about them was that it was suicidal to challenge one, let alone shoot at it. A fact he was counting on . . . .

He tapped fingers on the chair pad, initiating the laser strike.

In space, things can happen very, very fast. Especially with lightspeed beam weapons.

Obliteration
reacted almost instantly to their HF laser fire. Onboard, its Combat expert systems fired back at the place where his ship had been just milliseconds before. Only they weren’t there and the counterstrike had occurred too quickly for any Halicene organic to countermand it. The Halicene beam instead struck the Nova.

The Halicene xenon-fluoride excimer laser pulses ate into the black hull of the Anarchate battleship. The pulses hit with energy enough to melt through a meter thick wall of carbon steel.

Upon the touch of the excimer laser pulse,
Excellent
fired two black beams of neutron antimatter. They impacted dead center on
Obliteration’s
remaining half-globe.

Total matter-to-energy conversion is quick.

Very quick.

The expanding gas shell of his opponent flared all across the spectrum as energy crackled through charged gases. Solid projectile charges blew. Power plants glowed incandescent red. Minor nuclear explosions ballooned the expanding gases as torp warheads exploded in their former armories.

But all was incandescent gas within a few seconds. A gas that enveloped them and should hide their next actions.

“Emerge from Stealth!” Matt ordered. “Power down immediately upon emergence!”

Taking the biggest gamble of his life, he waited to see if the
Excellent’s
fire control reactions were controlled by organic claws . . . or expert programs that might assume, rather than analyze.

The Nova held its fire even as it finished settling into a station-keeping orbit.

But his holosphere rippled, then snapped brightly as the Spelidon ship commander glared out at him. The formally dressed rat looked displeased. “Where did you go? And why are you maneuvering?”

“Your patience is appreciated, Commander. We detected the Halicene’s attempt to fire at you and only sought to obey your orders by not firing back. So we shifted position away from you.”

The Anarchate commander grated its canines. “I am unfamiliar with your ship transponder and its design. Feed me its parameters now!”

“
Mata Hari, do as the commander says.” Beside Matt, Eliana trembled.

In his mind, he felt the AI hesitate, then comply. He could tell—even with a compressed speedburst transmission—that some of their capabilities were deleted from the schematics signal.
What the hell?

The Spelidon glanced aside briefly, then focused its black eyes on him, ignoring Eliana. “A curious ship and a curious design. The data appear incomplete. But I am being hailed by the Derindl planetary leader. The one who sent us a Class One Assist signal. Wait.”

Before the Anarchate commander could cut their connection, Matt spoke hurriedly. “A moment, please.” The Spelidon showed surprise at his impertinence. “We are in the employ of Autarch Dreedle. May we ride on her signal and your reply so that we may better understand our duties and obligations?”

The Spelidon snorted. “You have no duty other than to obey me! But your request is inconsequential. Abide and observe, but do not interrupt.”

Matt nodded, not caring whether the alien understood human body language.

Autarch Dreedle’s image appeared in the holosphere next to that of the Anarchate commander. “Commander, thank you for protecting our planet from Halicene Conglomerate.”

The Commander looked irritated. “That was not our purpose. Who interferes in your planetary affairs?”

Dreedle stood tall and formal in her Combat Command. “The ship you just destroyed. That of Prime Dominant Legion and the Halicene Conglomerate. They—”

Suddenly, an outside Vidcast signal interrupted Dreedle’s conversation with the Anarchate Commander. Who could it be? Eliana looked as surprised as he and Mata Hari
felt.

A dark-shadowed griffin-tiger glowed in the holosphere.

Legion!

Signal BackTrack showed it came from Zeus Station. Legion was alive! But how? And what was it doing on Zeus Station? Even as Matt wondered, his symbiont queried their instrumentalities. The Anarchate Commander did not care for the discourtesy.

“Intruder,” the Spelidon snarled, “we destroy beings for less—”

“Your Pardon, Commander,” Legion said in a smooth, calculating voice. “But everything you are being told by Autarch Dreedle is a lie. She is not the rightful ruler of her planet, her human allies have renounced her, and she is in contravention of a legally-binding contract for services. A Hearing is demanded.”

The Spelidon’s claw-hand stopped before finishing its downward movement. It now looked puzzled. “You represent the ship
Obliteration
that just attacked me?”

In the holo, Legion’s wings flapped hurriedly. “Yes, but that was without my—”

“Silence!”

Everyone shut up as the Spelidon rose from its desk, both arms held stiff against its furry side. Matt had never seen an Anarchate Commander act so furious. Of course, this was the first one he’d ever seen one. Most people went in the opposite direction when the Anarchate approached. The Spelidon spoke very formally.

“Record now my Hearing Decision! You, Autarch, demanded my presence. You, Prime Dominant Three called Legion demanded a Hearing.” The Spelidon blinked slowly. “The Halicene Conglomerate has attacked a ship of the Anarchate within Sigma Puppis B system. Their ship has been destroyed. Halicene Conglomerate is forever interdicted from further commercial business within the two-star gravity well of Sigma Puppis! All contracts are forfeit. All surviving personnel of Halicene Conglomerate are to hold themselves ready for questioning by my Investigator. The Hearing is finished.” It paused. “Does anyone object?”

Matt and Dreedle kept silent. Eliana breathed a sigh of relief. Legion looked ready to argue, but said only “I will hold myself and my Trade staff available for your inspection, Commander.”

The Spelidon sat down. “Autarch, tend to your planet. I will visit you after my inspection of the Halicene wreckage. And ship
Mata Hari,
hold station or you will be destroyed. You are a puzzle I will solve after visiting the Halicene and the Derindl. Someone will wish they had never called me away from base!” His image blanked out.

The images of Legion and Dreedle stayed on line, obviously receiving
Mata Hari ’s
carrier signal. Both tried to talk at the same time. Legion overrode the Autarch’s signal, forcing her to standby and listen. The Mican smiled a toothy, foul-looking smile.

“Vigilante, I underestimated you. But you also underestimated me! Look!”

Into the image marched the bruised and bleeding figure of Eliana’s Grandfather Petros, his arms bound. She cried out, reaching forward. Petros shrugged her way. Dreedle looked puzzled.

Legion flared its wings expansively. “Do you know what this puny human being is?”

“He’s my Grandfather!” screamed Eliana, spitting at the holosphere image of Legion. The Mican acted indifferent to her and unfazed by the loss of its MotherShip.
Why?

“He is also,” purred Legion as the alien looked Eliana up and down the way an elephant inspects an insect, “your colony’s Genetic Primary Carrier! The future of you crossbreeds and the colony lies within my grip!” On-screen, a filthy brown wing laid itself over the Petros’ shoulders; the old man shuddered and tried to move away, but seemed held in place by a tractor beam. “I offer a Trade, Autarch Dreedle, Mistress Themistocles. Your brother’s station and the colony’s Genetic Primary Carrier . . . in exchange for Vigilante Dragoneaux. Do you accept?”