Chapter 1
Admiral Vorn sat in silence, studying the battle recording as it played out on the screen. His officers sat to either side, tensely studying both the recording and the Admiral, desperately trying to guess what his reaction would be so they could match their own reactions to his.
So far he’d let nothing show. This was the third time the recording had played. His only reaction so far had been snapped commands to show the recording again. The pressure was starting to show. Several of the officers, hardened men who had been through many battles, were sweating. The Admiral’s temper could be unpredictable at the best of times. These were far from the best of times.
The admiral wasn’t a large man. Most of his officers were taller and more physically imposing. His black hair was receding, his face slightly harsh looking. He was well aware of the effect he had on his men. Normally he played on it, reinforcing their fear and loyalty. Not now, though. Now his attention was riveted on the battle before him.
He watched for the third time as a single trading ship, tentatively identified as the Wanderer, ripped its way through three corvettes and their supporting fighters. Then the recording jumped, taking his perspective with it. Now the view showed a firing run on the Wanderer, taken from one of three Banshees as they attacked the trader.
The Banshees were invisible to any scans and visual identification. They also packed in far more powerful weaponry than was normal for ships of their size. The Wanderer’s shields were steadily worn down by firing run after firing run. The ship was on the brink of being destroyed when it did something impossible. It disappeared, ripping its way into jump space, which should have been impossible from that location. Jump space in the area was far too turbulent.
The recording skipped once more. The Wanderer hadn’t got far and the three Banshees soon closed in again, having briefly broken comms silence to coordinate their next attack. Once again weaponry ripped into the Wanderer’s recovering shields.
The first time he’d watched the recording Vorn had expected the Wanderer to jump again, starting a game of cat and mouse. What else could they do when under fire from several invisible ships which were tearing down their shields?
They didn’t run. They fought back. Firing volleys in several directions they got incredibly lucky, hitting and disabling one of the Banshees as it reached its own firing position. The recording shuddered and fuzzed at that point before stabilising. It came from the Banshee that had been damaged.
Almost immediately the Wanderer struck at a second Banshee in the same way. Now there was no question of luck. Somehow the Wanderer had detected the two Banshees, or worked out where they would be. This time the Wanderer unleashed everything it had, destroying the Banshee it targeted.
Next came a short pause. Not enough to be worth skipping but long enough for questions to come into Vorn’s head. Then the Wanderer fired once more, unleashing all its weapons and hitting… nothing. That clinched things for Vorn. The Wanderer hadn’t been able to detect the Banshees. It had just calculated their attack pattern, though that was some just.
Nothing happened for a short while, then the Wanderer disappeared, once again ripping its way into jump space. Vorn had assumed they were leaving, running, when he first saw the recording. Now he knew better. Nothing happened for long minutes then, suddenly, the Wanderer dropped out of jump space.
It immediately let loose with a vicious volley of fire targeted at apparently empty space. It wasn’t empty. Every shot struck the surviving Banshee, overwhelming it within moments. Vorn watched as it exploded. There was no doubt. The Wanderer had somehow located this cloaked Banshee from within jump space.
The recording ended there. Whoever had been left alive on the crippled Banshee realised just how bad things were. They had downloaded everything into a homing device and launched it to drift a short distance away. Then they had triggered a generator overload which destroyed the ship. The homing device had activated some time later, after the Wanderer had left the area.
Vorn stared at the dark screen, deep in thought. Some of the officers around him fidgeted, but none dared to interrupt. The technician unlucky enough to have been charged with displaying the recording waited tensely, ready to replay the recording the moment he was asked to. This time no such command came.
Vorn knew the Empire had to get its hands on the Wanderer. The ship had demonstrated several previously unknown abilities including massively powerful shields for her size, the ability to detect cloaked ships and apparently the ability to perform short distance jumps no Imperial ship could possibly match.
Finally Vorn blinked rapidly and refocused on those around him.
“Any thoughts?” he barked out.
Many of the officers shrank back. They’d been counting on following Vorn’s lead. Now, not saying anything could be as dangerous as venturing an opinion. Vorn recognised what was going through their heads but said nothing, certain someone would crack soon.
Someone did. One of the junior officers, Fisher, tentatively raised a hand. Vorn nodded at him to speak.
“We… ah… we need to find that ship.”
“Obviously,” Vorn replied coldly. “And how do you suggest we do that?”
Fisher turned pale but managed to reply.
“Well, we can’t track it. We can’t tell what direction they were heading, and they’ve had almost a day to get clear.”
“Don’t tell me what we can’t do!” snapped Vorn. “Tell me what we can do.”
Now Fisher was shaking, and Vorn’s patience was wearing thin. Fisher would make a good example, he decided. An example of what happened when someone wasted his time.
“Sir… we can work out where they’re going,” Fisher gasped out. “They had slaves on board the ships. Lots of slaves. And they didn’t space them. So they plan to sell them, or maybe to try to free them.
“Either way there are only a few nearby locations they could head to. The slaves don’t have food or much heat in their transports. They’ll start dying in the next two or three days. There can’t be many systems within range where they could drop such a hot cargo. Only the most shady organisations will touch Imperial slaves.”
Vorn paused for a moment, then nodded slightly. Fisher sank into his seat in relief.
“Maybe,” Vorn said. “Or maybe they just haven’t got round to dumping them yet. It’s a start, though.”
“They must know we’ve got details of their ships, and that we’ll be chasing after them,” came a gravelly voice.
This time it was Captain Brundell who spoke, the only officer not intimidated by Vorn. Brundell was by far the oldest in the room and bore the signs of a lifetime spent serving the Empire on the front line. His face was scarred and pitted, his heavily muscled body contained several artificial organs. One leg was mostly prosthetic, and his left hand was only rendered usable by an external support frame. The captain treated Vorn with respect, but without fear. Vorn in turn valued the captain’s knowledge and insight.
“They’ll want to get those details changed straight off, and to do it well away from anywhere we can monitor. Otherwise we could work out the name switch and resume the chase. There’s only one location anywhere near that they can do that. Desolation.”
Brundell used his terminal to push the relevant information to Vorn, who brought it up in place of the recording and studied it carefully. Desolation was a stark system with almost no resources. It was also the name of a smugglers’ base in that system. The smugglers believed it was hidden from the Empire. They were wrong, but no action had been taken so far. Sometimes it was better to leave your enemies where you could find them.
“Excellent,” Vorn said eventually. “And if they do want to free the slaves then that would be the perfect place, if they even know about it. If not, they might go somewhere different.”
His gaze slid to the junior officer who had spoken earlier.
“Foster!” he barked. “What do you think?”
The young officer turned sheet white and stammered for a few moments before gulping and taking a deep breath.
“Sir, we can’t be sure. We should send ships to the other systems in the region, but it seems likely they'd go to Desolation. One of their ships launched a boarding action against another freighter, so they were almost certainly pirates. They must know of another way out of the system, too, one that we don’t. Otherwise they would have to spend months in real space before all the ships could jump and then wherever they flew to we’d be waiting for them.”
He stopped, a look of surprise on his face at having answered well. Vorn smiled inside. The youngster had shown promise. He’d be one to keep an eye on.
“The main fleet is going to Desolation, then,” Vorn said. “We will send scouts to other nearby systems to spread the word, just in case.”
Now the other officers started to venture opinions, following the lead he had set. Vorn let the details wash over him, knowing anything he needed to pay attention to would be spoken in a tentative voice, seeking his approval.
Vorn reflected on the situation. They’d been lucky. The probe carrying the destroyed Banshee’s records would have taken many days to reach Daspal. By chance it had encountered Vorn’s fleet after only two days. Having determined the fleet was definitely Imperial, the probe signalled for pickup. The information it contained had rapidly been escalated for the Admiral’s attention.
Vorn’s fleet was one of the most powerful the Empire allowed without special permission from, and oversight by, those even further up the command chain. His flagship battlecruiser, the Starslayer, was accompanied by seven cruisers, fifteen destroyers, twenty-seven frigates and hundreds of smaller ships. Enough to decimate most systems. As if that wasn’t enough, the fleet also included a group of seven Banshees, which were amongst the most advanced ships the Empire could field. The Starslayer was more than it first appeared, too, though few on board knew that.
Vorn’s original mission had been to destroy a fortified pirate base in a distant system, a mission he chose to abandon the moment he finished watching the recordings of the Wanderer’s exploits. It was imperative the Empire learn the secrets of the Wanderer’s abilities, and whether other ships existed that could do the same. Above all, it mustn’t be allowed to fall into anyone else’s hands.