#Imve never been normal

[writingfornoparticularreason]

A Chance Encounter in the Rings

Will sat back in the command couch and gently put his right boot up on the command console.  Brenix wouldn’t like it, but she was in her bunk.  He opened the pouch of walnut pieces and popped one of the snacks into his mouth as he flipped though the menus of the intercom system, looking for some music to pipe through the cockpit speakers.  It had already been a typically boring shift, but Will had gotten used to it.  

“Lieutenant Ibrahim,” a woman’s voice said, “consuming edibles on the bridge is against procedure.”  

“You say that every time, Vicky,” Will replied.  “Brenix has told you too…”

Will and the ship’s computer recited the captain’s command in unison: “Procedures aren’t enforceable, and some of them can be ignored during normal operations.”  

“I am still required to log and notify you of these violations,” Vicky continued.  

Will sighed.  “I keep telling the boss to update your procedures, but it’s always ‘After this run, I’ll think about it.’”  He popped another walnut piece in his mouth.  “How long until our next jump?”  

The heads-up display flashed navigational charts and tables related to their current location in the gas giant’s moon and ring system.  “We should be clear of all gravity wells in seventeen minutes,” Vicky declared.  “Calculations for our next jump should be ready before we clear the outer ring.”  

Will looked the chart over, rotating the holographic display to get different perspectives on their trajectory.  They were travelling through the rings of the planet, dodging between moons and asteroids to reduce their chance of being detected.  Vicky was handling the minor course corrections required to successfully navigate the sparse debris field of the rings, but something about their planned course was starting to irk Will.  

“Vicky, how old are these scans?” he asked.  

“Navigational scans for celestial bodies are conducted every hour, with passive scans for any electromagnetic emissions occurring every two minutes,” the ship replied.  

Will zoomed in on a gap in the planet’s rings and where the ship’s course curved slightly.  He noticed that the course was altered by the small moon that had cleared that gap in the ring.  “This course change was a standard slingshot correction?”  Slingshot corrections were a common navigational efficiency maneuver that used a gravity well to change a ship’s speed and vector rather than burn fuel.

“Yes,” Vicky replied.  “I calculated that it would reduce fuel consumption on this leg of the journey by 0.73%.”  

“Time to closest approach to this moon?” Will asked.

“Twelve minutes,” the computer replied.  

Will sighed.  They were too close and too fast to change course away from the moon without engaging the ion thrusters which would ping every passive EM scanner for ten light seconds. His experience with the Confederacy Navy told him that it was a good location to set up an ambush for any ships trying to quietly leave the gas giant’s orbit.  He took his foot off the console and leaned forward, tapping a finger on the command couch’s arm rest.  

“Can you give me a narrow band, medium range EM ping of that moon’s low orbit?” he asked the ship.  

“That will alert any craft in that area to our presence,” Vicky responded. “The captain has said that we are to avoid detection if at all possible.”  

“If there’s nothing there, then no one will know any different,” Will said, “but if there is anything there, it will detect us as we slingshot around that moon either way.”  He began strapping himself into the command couch in case he needed to take any evasive maneuvers.  

“Should we alert the captain?” Vicky asked.  

“Only if we find anything,” Will said.  Brenix had been asleep for about three hours, so Will thought it would be best not to awaken her before her sleep cycles were complete if possible.  

“Ten minutes until lunar perigee,” Vicky said.  “EM antenna aligned to target zone.  Ping ready.”  

Will pulled a sensor console closer to his seat.  “Fire ping.”  

The instruments gave a slight buzzing noise, and the sensor console gave an audible ping alert.  It only took less than a second to get a response at this range, and a bright red dot appeared on the sensor console, just past the moon at the edge of the object’s horizon.  

“Well, shit,” Vicky said flatly.  

“Wake the captain,” Will said as he quickly looked over the sensor readings. “The response looks like an unmanned recon drone, probably Confed design.  Might be pirates; could be Imperial too.”  

Within a few seconds the intercom buzzed to life.  It was Brenix’s voice.  “What did you do, Terran?”  

Will keyed the intercom.  “Found a thing before it found us, but it found us.  Looks like someone was anticipating someone using this vector out.” He was already flipping switches to bring the point-defence cannons and backup shield generators online.  “Found one bandit, recce bot.  Could be stinkies, could be Imp.”  

“Sure it’s not a Trexi?” she asked.  

“Not likely,” he replied.  “Looks Confed in origin.”  

“Of course, we’re not lucky enough for anything that doesn’t want to kill us.  I’m headed to the upper gun.  Can we talk or run?”  

A light started blinking on the communications console.  “Looks like they want to have a word,” Will said.  “I’ll see what I can do.”  

“Good,” Brelix replied.  “The moment anything more than a recce bot is in range, we run-and-gun.”  

“Aye, Captain,” Will replied, then flipped a switch on the comms console.

“Unknown vessel, this is the independent merchant vessel Victoriam per Firmitatem.  What brings you out to this neck of the woods?” Will broadcast.  

There was a brief pause; to be expected if the drone was relaying communications to another site.  

“IMV Victoriam, this is Grenetari System Customs Enforcement Outpost Delta-448,” came the reply.  “Please enter a stable orbit over Grenetari 7b and await instructions for a random security sweep.”  

Will switched back to the intercom.  “You catch that, Captain?”  

“Yup.  Did they expect that to work?” Brenix asked.  

“Amateurs can sometimes still shoot straight.  I’m guessing they’ve got at least a wing of fighters on the surface that are probably already scrambling.” Will replied.  “We’re approaching a slingshot, should we burn through?”  

There was a brief pause as Brenix considered the options.  “Route secondary comms up here, there’s an opportunity to get a pair of keliks on a spear.  Draw them out.”  

Will switched back to external comms and replied to the “Customs” drone. “Roger, Delta-448, coming about.” He fired the thrusters, bringing Vicky to approach the moon at a lower perigee.  This would make their approach much faster but change their exit vector from orbit.  “Delta-448, what kind of bucket do you have to conduct scans?  By the age of that drone in orbit, I’d say its probably a port-a-john with a thruster taped to it.”  

There was a pregnant pause before the replay came.  “What did you say, Victoriam?”

“Yeah, next time you want to impersonate customs, get your names right. Grenetari customs only uses Delta callsigns for patrol ships, not outposts.  That and this moon is Grenetari 7g.  As far as pirates go, you’re about the worst liars I’ve ever seen. How did you get out this far with that drone with this level of incompetence?”  

Vicky’s voice came over the intercom at that moment.  “Fuck.  This is not good.” 

Will looked at the sensor console.  Twenty-six new readings came around the horizon of the moon.  “Vicky, identify.”  

Data scrolled up on the sensor console, and Will keyed the intercom. “Captain, they’ve got four wings of six fighters – looks like Merex types, mark 3 or 4 – and two corvettes, Paralon class.”  

“More money than brains?” Brenix replied.

The comms buzzed again.  “Listen here, you scummy little grefnik boribran!  I am Lord Merin Bokness, Third Earl of Beneran, and Exector of House Neenor! I am the Butcher of Mendoran!  I am the Pirate Lord of Grenetari!  I am the Dread Mas…”  

Will clicked the comm channel off. “Definitely lots of money, and little brains, Captain.”  

“Good, he’ll never see this coming,” Brenix said.  “Break low on the moon, reinforcements should be here within a minute.”  

“Reinforcements?” Will said as he rolled Vicky to the left, pitched up toward the small moon and kicked the thrusters to full power.  The pirates would be in firing range in only a few seconds, but the Victoriam per Firmitatem would surprise them.  It looked like a common light transport, but the smuggling vessel had military grade thrusters, shielding and weapons installed.  It wasn’t quite as agile as the smaller fighter craft, but it was faster, and could both deal out and take more punishment.  A turning fight outnumbered twenty-four to one would not be pretty, however.  

Brenix was beginning to trade fire with the front line of pirate fighters when the sensors beeped again. This was a slipspace event, signifying a ship either leaving or entering FTL.  Will glanced over to see a single ship being identified; frigate type, Imperator class.  It was already launching it’s 16 Vengeance-class assault fighters.

“YOU CALLED THE IMPS?!” Will yelled into the intercom.  

“Lord Mezzar-face is going to be pissed,” Brenix chuckled.  

“Screw the pirates, I’m pissed!” Will said.  “Lets just get everyone who wants us dead here!  Feel like calling in the Mendi Syndicate too!?”  

Brenix was laughing.  “I used an Imperial clearance code I stole on our last stop,” she said.  “They thing we’re an Imperial Intelligence ship under deep cover.”  

Will frantically maneuvered Vicky to evade the crossfire between the two fighting fleets, cutting just slightly too close to the moon’s surface for the speed they were going.  “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” he said, grunting as a massive plasma blast narrowly missed Vicky and vaporized a pirate fighter.  “Unless it works.  Then it’s genius.”  

Another voice broke in over the comms. “IMV Victoriam, this is Captain Stevens of the RENV Machiavelli.  We should have the pirates contained.  You are clear to attempt a breakout.”  

Brenix cut in.  “Very well, Captain.  The Empress thanks you for your service.”  

Will had to make a few more evasive maneuvers, including a low approach over one of the pirate corvette’s hull, but within a few short minutes, Vicky was clear of the fight between the mean-spirited criminal scum balls and the pirates.  Will spooled up the FTL drive, and they jumped to slipspace as soon as it was safe to do so.  

Brelix came into the cockpit and plopped down into the copilot’s couch.  She draped one pair of arms over Will’s neck and tousled his hair with the other.  “Nice work, Terran,” she said.  “My spouses would be upset if you got me killed today.”  

“All in a day’s work, Captain,” Will replied.  “I think we’ve earned a drink.”  

Brelix blinked her secondary eyes in agreement.  “Vicky, take control,” she ordered.  “Let us know if there’s any more surprises.”  

“As you command, Captain.”