Carina Valencia

[NebulaCloud]

She'd been on the job for months now. Finally, she was going to see some action.

The disorienting warp field around her ship dissipated as she completed the jump back to the Colorado system from New York. Wasting no time she spun up the cruise engines, the whirring whine increasing in pitch and volume from the engines behind her. She grit her teeth as the cruise drive engaged, pushing her body firmly back into her seat, and swooped her nose toward Pueblo Station.

"Denver dispatch, this is Valencia, badge number bravo zero two six five charlie," she radioed on the secure channel. "Trade lane between New York jumpgate and Pueblo Station has been hacked. Civilian chatter reports pirate activity. Request backup."

There was a brief silence over the radio before the reply came. "Request received, Officer Valencia," a female voice answered. "Broadcasting to all LPI units in your sector."

Her blood was rushing through her veins and her fingers tingled. Exhiliration and nervous trepidation almost even kept her from blinking as she rocketed through space, past the floating ring that marked this end of the trade lane, all of its nav lights currently dead and lifeless. Little flashes of blue light flickered in her field of vision as micrometeorites slammed into the ship's shields and were obliterated on impact. Ahead lay the Silverton asteroid field, a cluster of dead rocks floating idly through the void. The trade lane navigated straight through it, and while it was an interesting sight to view through the distorted light effects of trade lane travel, flying into it on cruise power alone gave it the impression of an endless graveyard, and the dead trade lane boosters lined up through it only added to the eerie sensation. Space was vast and largely empty, but this was the first time that she'd been flying a solo patrol, and since all civilian traffic had been advised to avoid this trade lane for the time being, she felt truly alone out here. She stalled a shiver from streaking up her spine as she adjusted her course to avoid one of the big asteroids ahead. Alone.

Something in the back of her mind told her she should probably hang back until her backup was confirmed, but if she did, the criminal ship would likely bug out and be long gone before anyone got there. No, she had to get in there and deal with the problem, and for all she knew, civilian lives could be on the line. She couldn't afford to wait. Another one of the trade lane booster whizzed past her, looking like a dead husk. She adjusted her course again, threading herself through the cluttered field of debris.

After several minutes of travel, a blip appeared on her scope. Big one. Probably a transport of some kind, and it wasn't moving. She pinged it with the IFF, and immediately it came back with an Interspace Commerce ID tag. She frowned, shaking her head. Poor sap was probably floating there getting ready to offload some of its cargo at gunpoint.

As she got closer, a second blip appeared. Smaller signature than the first. Touching several spots on the scope's screen she brought up the scan details, and she felt her throat tighten a little bit - that was a gunship. She didn't recognize the type, but it was definitely bristling with weapons, and it wasn't anything used by any law-abiding organization in Liberty space. With a gloved hand she flipped two switches, setting the radio to scan all local frequencies. It didn't take long for the computer to zero in on the exchange taking place between the two vessels.

"...the rest of your cargo, we'll let ya go," a gravelly male voice was saying. Even though he spoke in a calm, almost friendly manner, there was no mistaking the threatening overtone.

"We copy," the reply came back from the transport's captain. "Hold tight and relax. We'll get it to you shortly."

She activated the flashing blue and red running lights atop her Liberator as she closed range. She could see both ships floating in space clearly now, seperated by only hundreds of feet. The gunship had all of its port cannons trained on the larger freighter train's broadside. As she disengaged the cruise engines, she opened a comm channel. "Unidentified vessel, this is the LPI," she radioed. "Hold your position and disarm all weapons."

A tense silence met her ears. She decelerated to a crawl, gliding closer to the two ships and swung above them, keeping her nose trained on the gunship as she drifted overhead. Neither ship moved an inch, and the gunship's cannons remained pointed at the freighter.

"Repeat, disarm all weapons," she said, more sternly, keeping one eye on her scanner's lock on the gunship. It still showed all weapons active. A little bead of sweat seeped out onto her forehead as her finger brushed the safety catch off of her trigger and held there, tensely waiting for any sign of hostility.

"No reason for alarm, Officer," the gravelly voice replied over the radio at last. At that moment her scanner board went green, and she looked up to see the gunship's cannons rotate forward, return to their default idle position. "We were merely passing through the area and soliciting donations."

"Encouraging donations is more like it," she retorted. "Interspace transport, trasmit your authorization code and flight plan."

"Copy that, LPI," the freighter responded. "Transmitting now."

She glanced down at her computer console just long enough to see the transport's identification credentials, cargo manifest, and flight plan highlights flash across the monitor. "Received and confirmed, Interspace," she said. "You'd best be on your merry way."

"Thank you, LPI," they answered. "Good luck." Below her she saw the brief flash from the transport's thrusters as it lurched forward, lumbering along as it gained momentum to resume its trading run. In moments they were in its engine wake, and she glanced down at her scope to see the blip getting further away, faster with each second. She couldn't help but notice that other than herself, the freighter, and the pirate ship, her scope was still blank. There was no further word from dispatch, either. Where the hell was her backup?

"We've done nothing wrong, Officer," the gravelly voice came back cheerfully. "Surely you don't have a problem with charity."

"I got a problem with piracy," she said back, her collected officer's demeanor giving way slightly to her coarser, true personality. "You expect me to believe you just happened to be out here in the middle of nowhere, alongside a hacked-down trade lane with your guns pointed at a civilian transport asking for goodwill?"

"I expect you to believe nothing, Officer," the pirate ship responded. "But I can see we're not welcome here. We'll just get out of your way."

Her finger twitched on the trigger again. She pulsed her dorsal and aft thrusters again, drifting around in a circle below the ship, never taking her nose off of it. "I don't think so," she said. "You'll just sit right there till I tell you otherwise."

"Now I know you've got lots of important matters to attend to," the grating voice said mockingly. "No need to bother yourself with us." As she drifted beneath them, the gunship's rear thrusters flashed to life, propelling it forward at a crawl.

She wrenched her little craft around, lining her guns up with the pirate ship's underbelly. "Cut your engines!" Carina barked. "Stop your ship immediately and await boarding!"

"Better check your scanner again, Officer," he taunted. "You aren't boarding anything from that little mosquito you're on, and I don't see anybody else around."

Dammit, where the HELL is my backup!? she thought. She switched her comms back to secure LPI channel. "Denver dispatch, Valencia! I have a confirmed pirate attempting to flee, request backup immediately!" No answer. She swore angrily in Spanish as she punched the radio back to the pirate's channel. "Unidentified vessel, you are in violation of Liberty law and resisting a police officer. Cut your engines or I WILL open fire!"

Another switch, and her cruise disruptor rack was armed. She hit the pirate ship's blip on her scope, there a pulsing tone, a high-pitched steady tone. Missile lock. She thumbed her gun trigger again. The pirate ship didn't slow down or show any signs of relenting.

"I wouldn't bet on your chances, Officer," the pirate ship radioed back. "I think I'll just give YOU the same ultimatum. Go run along now, and I promise we won't blast your cute little ship to ribbons."

She bristled. "I ain't gonna ask again," she hissed. She matched speed with the gunship, taking care to stay in the same spot below it. Its cannons couldn't fire at that angle; she felt reasonably sure she was safe. "Cut your engines or you're dusted."

Another, smoother voice came in over the radio. "You had your chance, Officer," it said, "and I sincerely apologize. All hands, open fire."

Carina's breath caught in her throat. "What the--?!" she gasped, looking down at her scope. Where there were once two contacts, now she had three. Her head whipped to the right, eyes wide with shock. From among the dead asteroids, another, bigger gunship was powering up. It was pockmarked and painted with black and brown, erratic stripes. Her scanners hadn't picked it up before, and she must have mistaken it for an asteroid. And it was now arming weapons. Every one of which was trained on her.

Another sharp swear escaped her lips as she punched the afterburner. Eight gees slammed her back, nearly knocking the wind out of her as the first bolts screamed past her, the ionized plasma missing her engines by less than a hair. On reflex she spun her ship on its lateral axis at full tilt. Another swear--she was staring straight down the end of more incoming blasts of energy from the first gunship. She fired two strafing thrusters and hit the afterburner again. She was thrown against the restraining belts as the shockwave from one of the bolts slammed into the ventral shields.

So here she was now. Being fired upon by two small frigates bristling with anti-fighter weaponry. Dodging for her life.

And there was still no sign of any backup.

---