Chapter 1: Death and Glory

There was nothing. Nothing but space.

He was alone. He was out in empty space, and he was alone.

Space! Deep. Black. Empty. Not even a grain of dust reflected probing energies back to his sensors. Only on the electromagnetic bands was the dark spangled with the filmy specks of distant star clusters, the fuzzy wisps that were far away galaxies. Rand tossed fitfully in his bunk, aware that this was no dream. With a rush, the scope of his vision expanded to include the complete sphere.

Behind him, seeming almost close enough to touch, the ten thousand suns of the Imperial Cluster filled an entire quadrant, sheltering the Empire's one hundred and forty seven E type worlds with their diverse races. Ahead, a twisted rope of star stuff was the Vortigen Drift, home of the Empire's ruthless enemies. The Drift; less than a thousand suns, yet a full seventy or eighty of them were thought to warm habitable worlds.

A few dozen light centuries to the galactic south, the great wheel of Mother Galaxy stretched away in all directions, a streaked and banded backdrop for his vision. It was from there that a faint disturbance reached him, nearly blanketed by a random splatter of synchrotron emissions from the Hub. The vision, along with a subliminal flow of data that he'd hardly noticed, faded as Rand struggled to waken. He realized that somehow he'd been peeking over the ship's shoulder, seeing in his mind what Skryben's sensors were relaying to her central computers.

"YELLOW ALERT! YELLOW ALERT!" Far into second shift, and Skryben's intercoms woke echoes through near empty corridors. "BATTLE STATIONS! BATTLE STATIONS, ALL HANDS!"

"Enemy ships approaching! R.A. +135^o; Dec. minus 47^o..." The ship's voice went on as Rand struggled out of his bunk, shocked awake as bare feet hit the yielding metallo organic floor. He'd been standing watch and watch duty most of the mission. Third Officer Inol, Skryben's navigator, was a finicky teacher who couldn't believe that a mere Junior Third Officer was capable of mastering deep space navigation without being pushed to the limit. Under Inol's tutelage, free time was almost too precious a commodity to waste on anything but food or sleep.

Gravity was set at 0.650 standard G, 650 centimeters per second, squared, since most of the ship's crew hailed from the Cluster's smaller planets. Rand was grateful to his heavy planet upbringing as he scrambled up narrow stairs, climbing the two levels from Junior Officers' Quarters to Skryben's bridge.

Captain Jeryth was already there, of course. For all Rand knew, he might well have slept at his post. If he slept at all, that is. Tall, unhumanly slim, the Captain was a statue cast from living gold. His metallo organic body had been lovingly crafted from the same stuff as his ship. Rumor was that the construct had been an emergency replacement for a body destroyed by the violence of interstellar combat.

Right now, the Captain's eyes were closed, his built in rapport with Skryben showing him vividly detailed pictures of the ship and its surroundings. The rest of the officers on the bridge could only scan the same pictures in lesser detail as they were presented on the great curving view screens that made up the walls and ceiling of the bridge, and curved under its transparent floor. A diffuse glow, too faint to be resolved into separate components, centered itself on the forward screen as the pilot turned Skryben to meet her foe.

"Minimum time to contact, twenty four minutes from... Mark." The ship's voice was somehow dry, precise, as though it reflected the personality of Third Officer Inol who had read in the data. "Minimum time to next jump, twenty four minutes and seventeen seconds. Twenty nine minutes and fifty four seconds if weapons and drive are employed at maximum energy drain."

"Rand Korsun, Junior Third Officer, reporting," he whispered into his throat mike as he reached his station, relaxing slightly as the 'confirmed' light came on above his console. He watched the dancing numbers that were echoed on his own screen as Arls Inol set up problem after problem on the navigation console.

First, the vectors and times involved if Skryben were to flee through normal space: No good! The Vortigen ship, or ships, would be on her before she could move far enough to make any difference.

Second, the results of a premature jump: No good there, either. The Vortigen would be close enough to read her course and distance. They would easily follow Skryben through null space, arriving with capacitors still partly charged. Enough energy would remain to crush Skryben's frail defenses while her engines were still laboring to recharge her empty capacitors for another jump.

No, her one chance was to stand and fight. Her only hope, that the Vortigen weren't too strong. Not likely that the bastards would have a large force out this far from their home stars, Rand thought...

A quick glance at the big screen dashed that hope. Mother Galaxy! This was no lone ship approaching. The blur resolved itself into a ragged cluster of flickering points. Six of them, at least. And, so far behind them as to barely register, another blur of light that told of more ships on the way! By Vortigen standards, practically a battle fleet.

Rand sent a whispered prayer Hubward. Fragmentary echoes throughout Skryben told of crew members heading for their battle stations, then heavy blast doors cut off most outside sounds as the bridge was sealed off from the rest of the ship.

"Communications!" Captain Jeryth's low, yet penetrating voice seemed to fill the control room. "Set up electronic counter measures to amplify our image on their screens. Pilot, full power on ion engines, but only one quarter power on inertial drive. Let the Vortigen think that we're a mauler, headed their way and ready to fight. They'll be a little more cautious. With luck, this'll give us time to jump."

Rand's nerves were quivering. Fear, mingled with anger at his own helplessness. The first group of Vortigen ships was closing too fast, he thought to himself; they must have already been moving in this direction when they caught the energy burst from Skryben's jump through null space. That was the one weakness of the Empire's 'Infinite Translocation' drive. The burst of energy that propelled them a couple of light years across null space was released in a 'splash' of energy at their destination, and had to be replenished before they could jump again.