Chapter 5

The three Idenux Cruisers dropped out of hyper 20 light-seconds beyond the calculated hyperjump limit for the Home System. The Ship Lord of Golden Buccaneer, commander of this raid, relaxed when the scan showed no Families warships nearby. The intelligence was correct; one of the protective Watchships that covered the system was out of position. The way was clear to the biolab, their pharmaceuticals, their equipment, and research notes, and, most important of all, the scientists working there. The latter were worth their weight in He³ at the transfer station.

Just as important was the Glory he was going to reap. Bearding of the Bitches in their home system was a major success. No other Ship Lord had dared try something like this, not in the last six years. But he would get away with this, and the Glory would be his alone.

“Anything on the scan?” the Ship Lord asked for the third time since coming out of hyper.

“All clear.”

“Any of their damned carriers around?”

“Not this far out, Lord.”

“Position?”

“As planned.”

“Accelerate and let’s do it.” He switched channels to an internal link. “We’re an hour from the target. How are the landing parties?”

“Everything’s ready, Lord,” reported the Ground Attack commander. “We’re running the final checks on our equipment right now.”

The Ship Lord nodded to himself and let go of the switch. He kept a wary eye on the scan. There shouldn’t be any opposition this far out, but you could never tell. Their intelligence source on the Bitches’ home planet might have missed something, or things might have changed in the last few days.

Shortly after they crossed the hyperjump limit, somebody deeper in the system finally saw through their ships’ fake ID. He was too far out to hear their frantic radio messages, but the scan showed several ships accelerating in his direction. The computers calculated how long it would take for those ships to reach him: just over three hours. It would be close, but they wouldn’t be in time.

Everything in the plan was falling into place. He could already taste the ecstasy of success as they hurtled away, their hulls filled to bursting with the spoils of victory. Golden Buccaneer and her sister ships would be at the target for exactly one hour of careful and selective looting and destruction, and then a one-hour race at maximum acceleration to the hyperjump limit and the safety of jump space.

After they made it into hyper, he would savor the first fruits of this raid, a blissful three weeks with his new property. The technicians and researchers were off-limits, but the rest of the lab personnel weren’t. They would help his crews relieve the tension that came from being this deep in Bitch space.

In 21 days, he would be at the transfer station, and then he would reap the true rewards of this venture: the acclaim and accolades that were due him for the most daring raid the Clans had mounted in years.

“All weapons to full readiness,” he ordered as they drew near their target. “Ground Attack parties to the Landers. Separation in 10 minutes!” He grinned wolfishly. This was going to be fun! He wanted to be on one of the landing teams--that was how he had first come to the attention of a Ship Lord--but ground action was for the young bloods. His place was here on the Bridge.

Golden Buccaneer and its consorts finished decelerating on schedule. Their target grew from a distant blip on the scan to a rock with recognizable features. The Ship Lord studied the target as they pulled to within 10 kilometers of it. It looked like any one of the millions of other rocks that populated this system, a gray rock pockmarked with craters. There were several silver domes and a landing area for shuttles.

The only odd thing about the rock was that it didn’t appear to be rotating. That was probably something the Bitches had done to it, probably so they could observe the stars or whatever it is they did here besides play with chemicals.

“Lord,” the man at the Weapons Panel said. “We are taking fire from our target.” The man ran through his displays. “It is minor laser fire, Lord, nothing that can hurt us.”

“Carry on. Landers prepare to drop.” He watched the display of their velocity relative to their target. Finally, it was time. “Landers away.” He felt the slight shudder as the Golden Buccaneer’s two landers detached. The landers from the other two ships detached at the same time.

“Hover directly over that central dome,” he said. “We want to be ready if they need fire support. And start the clock. We boost in 60 minutes.”

“Aye, Lord,” said the man on the ship’s controls.

The landers assaulted the locks next to the central dome. The Ship Lord monitored the initial reports. Surprise was complete, and his men passed into the main compartments with almost contemptuous ease. Obviously, the Bitches hadn’t prepared for an attack like this, which made it even sweeter.

The transmissions got repetitive, and he began to pace the Bridge. He stopped when the man at the Scan called him. “Lord, one of the landers is returning.”

He frowned. “Any transmission from it?”

“No, Lord. It’s damaged, though, and appears to have limited mobility.”

The Ship Lord relaxed slightly. “This happened last year at that base we found deeper in the Nebula. How much time is left?”

“Nearly 25 minutes, Lord.”

The Weapons Officer stiffened. “Lord, we are being tracked by fire control lidar.” He checked his instruments. “Apparently, there were disguised installations on that rock.”

Golden Buccaneer shivered slightly as the returning lander docked. A red light flashed on the damage panel as alarms rang: hull breach in the lander bay.

“Bridge!” an anxious voice called. “Armed intruders in Landing Bay One. We’re--” The voice was cut off by the snarl of heavy weapons.

Suddenly, he knew why it had been so easy. The Bitches had led him into a trap! The damned untrustworthy...

He grabbed the microphone. “All ships: scatter at maximum acceleration! Meet at the rendezvous point! Evasion Course 3,” he snapped at the man on Golden Buccaneer’s controls.

“Sir, what about the ground parties?”

“The ships are more important. Go! Go!”

His other two ships, minus their landers, started to accelerate. A volley of missiles tore upward from the rock, ripping one of his ships to pieces. The ship’s fusion bottle detonated, momentarily washing out his sensors so he didn’t see his other ship vanish in a haze of debris as another volley of missiles tore through it.

The stars wheeled across the fixed display as Golden Buccaneer spun. The rock slid beneath them, and he saw a pair of smaller ships lifting, their energy weapons already glowing as they fired. There were missile launchers and energy mounts below them. He watched helplessly as the mounts turned, tracking him. There wasn’t time to fire at them with his missiles, and the landing teams had been formed from the crews who manned the energy weapons.

The hatch to the bridge blew down with a white flash, the shock flinging the Ship Lord to the deck. The bitterness of defeat washed over him as he stared dazedly up at a Bitch in her powered armor. This had all been a trap; he had been set up from the very beginning. He drew his pistol and fired, hoping the Bitch would kill him. But she did him no favors. Her first shot tore the pistol from his hand. As he struggled to his feet so he could at least die like a man, her second shot took his leg out from under him and smashed him back down.

As he lay on his face, he felt the hot muzzle of her weapon press into the small of his back. “Surprise,” grated a female voice. He heard the pistol rasp, and white agony knocked him into darkness.

“Bridge is secure,” Marine Senior Kaylin Matsuhara reported. Most of the Bridge crew were down, wounded, or killed by the two troopers who had followed her through the hatch. She looked at the figure wearing the ornate braid lying on the deck in front of her. She had shocked his spinal cord with her pistol. He was going nowhere. “I have the Ship Lord.”