Chapter 10: Course Plotted

It took almost two days to recover from that epic orgy. We still had hours in hyperspace or jump space or whatever your engineers call that wormhole between two points in our galaxy. Sitting at the mess table I began my presentation.

“Mission creep caught me,” I said. “Now I’m officially retired. Lightning Bolt is officially used for survey. She’s about four times the size of the survey scouts normally used, but I’m not complaining. Survey reports are an income source. We also have the honor of caring for an heir to the throne of Zheeyad. If anybody knows of an income stream or obligation for that child other than what’s honorable, right and proper, tell me.

“What I have here is an outline of the next twenty years. I want you to study them, give me your feedback. How can we make the main mission of caring for the unborn heir successful?

“My basic plan is to use our survey mission to find a suitable place for the heir and our other children to grow up in peace and safety. We’ll educate them as best we can outside the formal educational systems. And I plan to stay clear of that Zheeyad civil war.”

“What about us being naked?” Kelsey asked.

“What about it?”

“Ashley, Kris and I need to be naked,” Kelsey explained. “It’s our nature, our conditioning. Solace needs to be kept naked as part of her submission.”

“I’d rather be naked,” Constance butted in. “I grew up that way. It’s natural. It’s comfortable.”

“What about me?” Elizabeth Manchester, the captain of the Lightning Bolt, inquired. “Ships captains can’t be naked all the time.”

“You agreed to be my slave,” I said, “and you can be naked most of the time. I insist that my slaves be properly clad at all times—which will be just skin unless there’s a safety or health or legal issue. Kelsey informs me that the next star port we stop at permits nudity in the star port. I’ll check...”

For a moment I zoned out. I shook my head and looked Manny in the eye.

“We will be intercepted by a small fleet of warships within an hour of exiting jump space,” I announced. “Ashley, Solace, as soon as we emerge we have to make a second jump. I know, it’s dangerous—but fighting an entire squadron is worse.”

“You can’t know that!” Manny thundered.

“Oh, what will you bet?” Kelsey asked. “Precognition is a rare talent and it is not easy to discipline. He has it.”

“If I’m wrong, we just had a battle drill, no harm done,” I said. “If I’m right and we don’t take precautions, this little vacation of ours ends. Let’s just enter the system ready for an immediate jump space insertion. If there’s nothing there during the first hour, we can stand down.”

“I still object to a waste of time and effort.”

“Your objection is noted, Captain Manchester,” I said evenly. “If I’m wrong, we can at least have a realistic drill.”

“If you’re right I won’t wear any clothes for a year,” Manny huffed, “and you can tie me down and rape me until I bleed!”

“You know I can’t hurt you,” I countered. “We’re bonded, remember? I hurt you, I feel your pain.”

“He’s right, you know,” Ashley butted in. “That makes sex more intense. I get to feel what he feels when he feels me and I get to feel him feeling me too!”

“That doesn’t make sense, sister,” Constance says,” but you’re right.”

“The best way to win a battle is without fighting it,” I said.

“That’s nonsense!” Manchester sniffed. “You can’t win battles without fighting!”

“You can sure lose battles by fighting!” Constance shot back. “Look at what happened to that assassin!”

“Peter sensed the assassin even in hyperspace,” Kelsey commented. “We are all animals. We live in the moment. To be human is to recall the past and forecast the future. A few of us can project ourselves through time. The future is always in flux and the future sensed can change. Peter senses that we’re going to encounter a hostile fleet. As he says, if there’s nothing there, then the ship and crew get a good exercise.”

“How will the fleet know where to find us?” Manchester asked.

“Lots of ways,” I said. “I didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t know about our destinations until you locked them into the computer, Navigator Ashley. I don’t think you told anybody. Perhaps our boss--”

“Other people are precogs, too,” Kelsey interrupted. “Minister Booksmith can see the future. It was he who sent the assassin.”

I was not the only one stunned.

“And he sent a fleet,” Kelsey announced.

“Nonsense,” Manchester sneered. “There’s nothing there.”

“So let’s table this until we return to normal space,” I suggested. “We’ll be ready, nothing more. If we determine that there’s other ships, we leave. Immediately.”

The next few hours crawled by. Naturally, the crew grumbled about putting on their space suits—hull breaches are nobody’s friend. A quick jump was programmed—blind – ready for immediate return.

“I don’t like this,” Manchester said.

“Noted, Captain,” I replied. “Six ships. We’ll see them in fifteen minutes.”

“Stop that!”

And then we returned to normal space. The initial sensor scan took three minutes. Our jump had been accurate, and we were within one light second of our mark. Course to refuel point, a gas giant, was plotted and drones launched. Six minutes. Nine minutes. Twelve.

“There’s nobody out there,” Manchester announced.

“Ahoy the Lightning Bolt,” the space band radio spoke. “Stand down your systems and prepare to be boarded.”

“HOLY SHIT!” That was my own voice. “One, two, three, four, five and number six is a class 5000—we’re in trouble.”

The Lightning Bolt was a class 400 star ship—the big vessel was twelve times our size. Four of the ships were class 400 and the last was a class 800. If staffed to military standards there could be several hundred on board. Out numbered, out-gunned, low on fuel.

“Initiate quick jump,” Captain Manchester ordered.

Jump space insertion is routine but takes time to do correctly. Ashley updated the navigational fix.

“What are you doing, Helm?” Manchester barked.

“Evasive maneuvers,” I explained, triggering the countermeasures. “Incoming.”

Energy blooms blinded our sensors as the countermeasures were vaporized by energy beams. The missiles were inbound and homing in on us. One of our drones vanished.

“Jump insertion in ten seconds,” Ashley counted down as I counted thirty missiles homing in on us, firing point defense systems to buy us time.

And then we were gone.

“Damage reports!” Manchester barked. Engineering, Navigation, Medical, Damage Control, the works. We got lucky. Except for being low on fuel, we were intact.

“Captain, I’m experienced in fuel economy,” I offered. “We can shut down and head for a refueling site. We should emerge within range to make a refueling pass.”

The fight was on. It was part of being in combat—being all keyed up with nobody to fight. So we’d fight each other. Fortunately it was just a shouting match. I tuned it out and set up the energy conservation measures. First, we had the hotel load (life support and such) for the duration of our time in jump space. Once we emerged, we’d have to do a quick scan and correct our delta-V for insertion into the gas giant’s atmosphere, diving for a layer of liquid hydrogen. The bridge went still around me.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I owe you an apology,” Captain Manchester said. “You were right.”

“The important thing is that we’re safe for the moment,” I replied. “There’s going to be some excitement and we may have to take measures to remain alive, but we’ve got almost a week. Captain, did Minister Booksmith have our itinerary?”

“I don’t know.”

“I do,” Kelsey said. “There were a dozen heirs. Minister Booksmith reported that eleven of the heirs had been killed before we entered jump space. I knew that you’d meet us as scheduled. Ashley has the last heir.”