Alone in the Night Read online

  Alone in the Night

  Richard Tongue

  Alone in the Night

  Final Odyssey: Book 2

  Copyright © 2019 by Richard Tongue, All Rights Reserved

  First Kindle Edition: November 2019

  Cover by Keith Draws

  With thanks to Ellen Clarke

  All characters and events portrayed within this eBook are fictitious; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Atlantis was the most distant world settled by humanity, orbiting a pair of cold red dwarf stars that had not been thought important enough to even name until the first starships ventured into the system. That survey team made discoveries overwhelming enough to send waves of prospectors and settlers out even that far. They found a planet laden with uranium, plutonium, radium, elements that on Earth were on the verge of exhaustion. Atlantis could fuel a hundred centuries of interstellar industry.

  Fortunes were won and lost by the corporations that sponsored the settlement, and domed settlements sprouted like mushrooms across the Plain of Souls, focused around Plato City, the capital. Home to a quarter-million people, one of the largest populations of any extrasolar planet, it had been an early target for the Belters, the renegade colonists who had declared independence from Earth, launching a terrible insurrection that sent shockwaves across the stars. Belter Megacorporations had acquired the planet in a corporate raid that had been close to boardroom banditry. The lives of the settlers had been bartered as though they were mere cattle, not human beings. They’d ventured to the stars to make their fortunes, to secure the future of their families, but the Belters had turned them into chattel slaves. Serfs who toiled for their distant masters, knowing that their lives would be short, brutal, and that they could expect nothing better for their children than the same, endless drudgery. Of such despair are revolutions born.

  Of such despair are desperate men made.

  Chapter 1

  The covert cruiser Avenger drifted lazily through the rocks of Beta Hydri’s endless asteroid belt, a hiding place known by smugglers and renegades from a hundred nations during the Nationalist Wars, put into service once again to allow the hunted ship a respite from the pursuing Belter forces that had spent the last two months hunting her down. Now she was waiting and watching, waiting for the regular convoy passing through, a trio of slow, lumbering freighters destined to resupply a series of outposts along the far frontier of the Belt’s territorial claims.

  “This is pocket change, Bill,” Lieutenant Alexander Dixon, sometime hacker and Avenger’s second-in-command said, his eyes locked on the sensor display, the pickups tracking a billion floating rocks. “Why don’t we make another run at 61 Cygni? Get ourselves some real action.”

  “We’ve had more than enough real action lately,” Commander William Corrigan replied. “Hence the need for a little time to recharge and catch up on the maintenance routine. This ship doesn’t fix itself. Besides, I want to hit them somewhere a little unexpected. It’s precisely because this is an unimportant trade route that we’re here. This way we catch them by surprise.”

  “Christ,” Dixon replied. “This is another one of your covert missions.” Shaking his head, he said, “You could just tell me, you know.”

  With a beaming smile, Corrigan said, “Not everything is a conspiracy, Dix. If we take out these freighters, then the Belt will either have to rush more supplies to the outposts or evacuate them. Either way, we strip some of their carrying capacity from supporting the front lines. Not to mention throwing a scare into them. I want every technician from here to Arcturus screaming at the sight of an unexpected sensor blip.”

  “Good, old-fashioned psychological warfare,” Lieutenant Novak said, her hands lightly dancing across the helm controls. “A cheap and easy way to win a war. Though I’m getting a little tired of dodging rocks all day.”

  “You could just let the autopilot handle it,” Ensign Singh said from the sensor controls. “That’s what they’re for.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” the pilot replied. “Besides, I don’t trust it to keep us sufficiently in the shadow of the asteroids. This ambush won’t work if they spot Avenger before they get too close to run. There’s a reason we still have human beings flying these ships, not machines.”

  “I guess,” Singh said. “No new contacts, sir. Screens still clear.”

  Dixon shook his head, and said, “You realize the convoy’s already five hours late. For all we know they’ve canceled it for the duration of the war, maybe pulled the people from those outposts already. I wouldn’t put it past them. Hell, that would be the smart thing to do.”

  Shaking his head, Corrigan replied, “According to Major Rojek, they’ve left them in place. Most of them are resource extraction sites, a few scientific outposts, but our best guess is that they’re used as a dumping ground for people they want to keep out of the way.”

  “In which case they might just let them wither on the vine.”

  “Possibly, but they’ll have to do something, and even if they end up doing nothing, that reduces faith in the central government.” Corrigan paused, then asked, “Just how bored are you?”

  “I’m reaching hitherto…”

  “Contact!” Singh said. “A ship just jumped into the system. Looks like a fast freighter, Hermes-class, old Martian design.”

  “Martian?” Corrigan replied. “Hands off, people, let’s…”

  “Negative, sir, she’s under Belter colors,” Dixon reported. “She’s identified as the Icarus.” He paused, frowned, then said, “That’s odd. That’s damned odd. She’s not meant to be out here at all. She’s on the run between Atlantis and Ceres, occasional stops along the way, but nowhere near here.”

  “What’s she doing out in this part of space?” Novak asked, turning from the helm. Looking at the trajectory plot, she added, “Looks like she’s heading deep into the asteroids. There’s nothing out there.”

  “Running a check,” Singh said. “I’m not picking up any heat signatures or communications activity out there. If they’re looking for something, it’s staying cold and dark.”

  “Supply depot,” Dixon suggested. “It’d be a good place to hide one. You wouldn’t find it without a deliberate search.”

  The doors at the rear of the bridge slid open, and Lieutenant Catherine Carter, Avenger’s sole original crewman and Engineering Officer stepped inside, her eyes darting instantly to the ship on the viewscreen.

  “Something wrong, Lieutenant?” Corrigan asked.

  She looked at the monitor, and said, “I think the maintenance updates can wait, Commander,” she replied. “What’s the story?”

  “That’s a damned good question.” Turning to Singh, Corrigan asked, “How long before they can detect us? Give me a number.”

  “Ninety to a hundred seconds if we hold position, but we can extend that pretty near indefinitely if we want,” Singh replied.

  “I’ve already got an evasion course programmed into the computer,” Novak added. “Ready to implement the moment you give me the word.”

  Singh frowned, shook his head, then said, “Getting some more signs of warp activity, Commander. I think there’s something else about to jump into the system, right behind Hermes. Could be a second ship in a convoy.”

  “If we’re going to take them,” Dixon said, “then now is the time.”

  “Agreed,” Corrigan said. “Helm, take us in, best possible speed, on an intercept course. Crawford,” he said, turning to the weapons station, “I want a firing solution right away, targeting engines only. I’d like a chance to look over the cargo and see if there’s anything we need. Or anything Earth might want. I’m not ruling out a prize crew.”

&n
bsp; “Course computed and laid in,” Novak said. “Main engines, full thrust. We should be in firing range in twenty-two seconds.” She turned to Corrigan, adding, “This all seems to be going a little well, sir. They could have dropped into any one of a dozen navigation beacons. Why ours?”

  “Not a bad question,” Corrigan replied. “Let’s see if we can get…”

  “They’re hailing us,” Singh reported. “Or, specifically, you, sir.”

  “Me?” Corrigan asked.

  “By name,” the technician replied. “Should I patch them through?” At Corrigan’s nod, he tapped a series of controls, and added, “You’re on, sir.”

  “This is Commander William Corrigan of the Republic warship Avenger,” he began. “Identify yourself, please.”

  A familiar face appeared on the screen, a grey-haired old man wearing a battered Republic uniform, flanked by a pair of weary technicians leaning over their consoles. At the rear of the view was a younger officer, and Carter’s eyes widened as she saw him.

  “Claude?” she said. “Claude?”

  “Lieutenant,” Corrigan said, glaring at her.

  “This is Commodore McBride,” the old man said. “Bill, it’s good to see you again, but the circumstances are lousy. We’ve got a bandit on our tail and we’re going to need covering support.”

  “Confirmed,” Singh said. “Estimate two minutes before we have some uninvited guests to the party.”

  “It’s a Cygnus-class Assault Cruiser,” McBride added. “It’s a long story, but there’s a supply depot in the rocks that we’ve got to get to. Atlantis is on the verge of revolt, and we’ve got a chance to push them over the edge. That depot has enough hand weapons to supply an army. We’ve got to get them before the Belters do. I need you to cover us.”

  “The officer behind you…,” Carter began.

  “It’s me, Cat,” the young man said.

  Turning to Dixon, Corrigan ordered, “Run an identity check.”

  “Way ahead of you, skipper,” Dixon replied. “Voiceprint and biometric sensor data matches perfectly. The two officers are Commodore Benjamin McBride and Lieutenant Claude Mathis, and first analysis suggests that they’re telling the truth. Or at least, what they believe to be the truth. Which is not necessarily the same thing.”

  “Damn it,” Mathis said. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “They’ve got to be sure,” McBride replied, looking over his shoulder at the impatient officer. “In their place, I would do exactly the same.” Turning back to Corrigan, he added, “I’m sending over all of our tactical data, Commander. Given that you’ve got the greater fighting strength, I naturally want you to take the lead on this operation, but I’ll stress once more that this ship has to reach the depot and retrieve the equipment.”

  “Very well, Commodore, we’ll do what we can,” Corrigan replied. “We’ll link up at the depot as soon as we’ve dealt with the enemy ship, and I’m sending a couple of officers over to you to act as a liaison, at least for the present. Major Rojek and Lieutenant Carter.”

  “Don’t you trust us, Commander?” McBride asked with a wry smile.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, sir, but in all honesty, no,” Corrigan replied. “We’re in a state of war, and this smells suspiciously like it might be a trap. If it is, it’ll be in a pretty sorry state by the time I’m done with it. Consider that a fair warning.”

  McBride chuckled, and replied, “You haven’t changed a bit, thank God. I’ll see you at the rendezvous. Happy hunting. Out.”

  “You know him?” Dixon asked.

  Nodding, Corrigan said, “He was my first commanding officer. Then my squadron commander before they lumbered us with Klein. He knows his stuff, and he’s a specialist at unconventional warfare. Which didn’t make him very many friends at the Admiralty.” Turning to Carter, he said, “If you have any objections to the mission, Lieutenant, then I…”

  “No, sir, not in the slightest,” Carter replied.

  “Then get down to Shuttle One on the double, Lieutenant. One thing. Don’t trust anyone. I don’t want any details of our ship or our mission passed on without my direct order. Rank or friendship don’t mean anything until I have absolute verification that they haven’t been suborned. Is that clear?”

  “Of course, sir,” she replied. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “On your way,” Corrigan said, as she raced from the bridge. Leaning forward, he said, “Helm, I want a best-speed intercept course for the estimated egress point of the enemy ship. Let’s not give them any opportunity to get themselves together. I want them blasted out of the sky the moment they emerge.” Turning to Crawford, he added, “And a best-guess firing solution.”

  “Working on it now, sir,” the gunner replied. “It’s not going to be particularly accurate, though, not with the limited information we have.” Looking across at another monitor, he added, “We’ve got full specifications of the enemy ship, though. Modified fuel transport. Lots of armor, but she’s slower than hell herself.”

  “All the better,” Dixon added. “I know that class of ship pretty well. Designed to be combat-modified, but she’s not really intended for any sort of line of battle. Deep space patrol is more her line. Lots of endurance, good long range, and a heavy armament. Far too slow for a real fight, though. We ought to run rings around her. Literally.”

  With a smile, Novak replied, “I can work with that.”

  “I hope so,” Corrigan said. “Singh, give me some numbers.”

  “Current estimates suggest that the information the Commodore gave us is accurate, with the enemy contact entering the system in seventy seconds, plus or minus ten, and before you ask, that’s as good as I can get with the time I’ve got to run the figures. My guess is that he’s heading the same way as the freighter, but that’s not certain.”

  “Safe assumption,” Corrigan said. “Throw out a few sensor drones, set to watch for any other warp interface signatures. If that ship and that depot are important enough for them to send one cruiser to come and take a look, there’s a reasonable chance they might send two.”

  “Warships are thin on the ground out here,” Dixon noted. “Which is one reason you were so keen on hiding in this part of town.”

  “Atlantis, though,” Corrigan said. “That’s important enough for them to make a special effort. And maybe open a few doors for us. A key part of our mission was to make contact with resistance groups and give them the help they needed to throw out the Belters. Looks like we might have done just that.”

  “You think we can make it stick?” Dixon asked. “This all seems a little too convenient, skipper. The big prize just dropping into our laps?”

  “The first step to avoiding a trap is knowing of its existence,” Corrigan said. “One of the main things they hammered into us in Command School. There’s always someone out to get you. Nevertheless, we proceed as planned.”

  “Shuttle One is away and clear,” Novak reported. “I have a positive course track, with an estimated docking time of six and a half minutes from now. With a little luck, we’ll have this thing won by then.”

  “Let’s hope the enemy goes along with that,” Crawford said. “I have a provisional firing solution, Commander.”

  “Here it comes!” Singh yelled. “New contact, Cygnus-class cruiser, bearing on course just as expected. Firing range in two hundred and twenty seconds. Enemy has weapons-hot and is at battle stations.”

  “Just as advertised,” Corrigan said with a nod. “Fire at will.”

  Chapter 2

  “Shuttle One, departing now,” Carter said, her hands nimbly working the controls as she guided the small spaceship clear of Avenger, trying to ignore the lumbering enemy cruiser still racing towards them. She glanced across at Major Rojek, their Intelligence Officer, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, and added, “Better fire up the e-war systems.”

  “Way ahead of you, Lieutenant,” he replied with a smile. “Firewalls are firmed, countermeasures ready to go. Though
if you step hard enough on the gas, we should be at Icarus long before the enemy ship can catch up.” Looking around the cramped cabin, he added, “I damned well hope so, anyway. I don’t fancy our chances if we end up in the firing line.”

  “Course is computed and locked,” she said. “Docking in six minutes. About thirty seconds after the battle starts, but we’ll be at least a minute ahead of the enemy.” Reaching for the sensor controls, she added, “Though there’s no reason we can’t help in other ways. Set up a data link with Avenger’s tacnet. We might as well funnel them anything we can find.”

  “Doing it,” Rojek replied. “Good idea.” He paused, then asked, “How well do you know Mathis?”

  “We’re engaged to be married, Major,” Carter replied.

  “Not what I asked.”

  She glared at him, then said, “We met at the Academy. Had a pretty similar course load, so we ended up in the same study groups, and one thing eventually led to another.” She frowned, adding, “If you’re thinking for a moment that he might have switched sides, then you can forget it. Claude’s loyal. I’d bet my life on it.”

  “That’s good to hear, because that’s exactly what you are doing. In fact, you’re betting both our lives on it, so I really hope that your confidence isn’t misplaced.” He looked at her, then continued, “You realize that we don’t dare trust him until…”

  “Commander Corrigan had that discussion with me on the bridge,” she snapped. “No discussion of ship or mission until we know where we stand. If he’s been suborned in some way, I’ll know, soon enough. He wouldn’t choose to change sides. You can depend on that.”

  “You love him very much?”

  “I’m marrying him!”

  “Not what I asked,” Rojek said, turning back to the controls.

  “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “It doesn’t always go together, Lieutenant, though I am genuinely happy for you if it proves to be the case. It’s always nice to see someone beat the odds.” He looked at his controls, and added, “I’ve looked over his record, and it’s perhaps not quite what I’d have expected, given his time at the Academy. Postings less prestigious than I would have thought, and he doesn’t seem to have gotten along with his commanding officers very well.”