Starship's Mage: Episode 3 Read online

  “I wanted to apologize for what happened,” Kelly finally said into the silence, and Damien winced. His own age and pretty or not, Kelly was also the one who’d allowed a strange Mage onto the ship to discover the modifications he’d made – which had directly resulted in his arrest.

  “They were going to take my magic away,” he finally replied, looking away from her and the computers to stare at the bare metal walls. That was the fate that Rice and the crew of the Blue Jay had saved him from, at the cost of them all becoming fugitives from Protectorate Law.

  “Singh told me,” she admitted. “I am so sorry, Damien – I didn’t know.”

  Damien looked directly back at her, meeting her eyes and noticing for the first time how brilliantly blue they were.

  “You didn’t know,” he repeated back to her. “We didn’t tell anyone what I’d done to the matrix. Even if we had, it’s not like you know Mage Law.”

  “The whole mess was the exact opposite of what I was trying to do,” she said with a sigh. “I was trying to make your life easier, not get you arrested!”

  “I’d say the thought was appreciated, but, well, arrested,” Damien replied dryly.

  “Let me make it up to you by buying you dinner,” Kelly told him suddenly, a bright smile returning to her face.

  Damien glanced from her to the starscape behind his calculations.

  “We’re roughly five and a half light years from any star system,” he pointed out. “Seven from anywhere with a restaurant, and still almost two weeks from Legatus – a system where I shouldn’t leave the ship. Where are you planning on this dinner?”

  “Anywhere not your lab, and any meal not made of cold coffee. Deal?”

  The reference to the forgotten coffee bulb made Damien wince again.

  “Okay,” he agreed. “Deal.”

  #

  Every jump from deep space to deep space was very much the same, even to Damien. Memorize a set of calculations, focus on the small, impossibly perfect, replica of the Blue Jay at the heart of the ship and channel energy into it to move the vessel and all of its contents across a full light year of space.

  It was exhausting, incredible, and done three times a day, became surprisingly routine.

  After the first jump of the day, Damien would review the calculations for the next jump, and then have lunch with Kelly and the other junior officers. He would then carry out the second jump of the day, review the calculations for the last jump, and spend part of the day wandering the ship, studying the ship’s rune matrix and making tiny modifications where his ability to see the flow of magic through the runes revealed inefficiencies in the centuries-old design.

  To his knowledge, no one had ever successfully modified the jump matrix of runes carved into the hull of every civilian starship – not since the first Mage-King of Mars had drawn up the design in the twenty third century. Removing the limiters that prevented the matrix being used for any spell except jumping was the first step, but given the time to go over the runes closely he realized it was improvable in dozens of small ways. Many of the changes were, he suspected, tied directly to his own use of magic.

  He couldn’t make the ship jump further – that seemed tied unavoidably into his own ability to channel power – but he could make the jumps take a little bit less energy from him.

  The routine consumed almost two weeks, until the night before they arrived in Legatus, when Rice invited the ships’ senior officers to dinner.

  #

  Rice normally found the fact that the designer of the Venice type freighters like the Blue Jay had included a dining room in the Captain’s Suite vaguely ridiculous. The room wasn’t large enough to host a meal for all of the freighter’s dozen or so officers, but was really too large for the Captain to eat alone.

  The round table was sized for six, barely enough for a business meeting or a gathering of the ship’s senior officers – him, the First Officer, the First Pilot, the Chief Engineer and the Ship’s Mage.

  He greeted each of his officers as they arrived and poured them drinks himself from the small set of vacuum-sealable carafes on a side counter. Jenna, as always, went at his right hand, and he sat Damien, the youngest and newest of the senior officers, at his left.

  When he served the dinner himself, Damien looked at the plates in surprise.

  “You cooked this, Captain?” the youth asked.

  “Welcome to my culinary experiments club, Damien,” David told him with a smile. “I like to cook, but I don’t normally have time. I foist my creations on my senior officers occasionally.”

  He smiled to himself as the young Mage silently took the food, clearly not quite sure what to make of having a Captain who cooked. David continued to serve up the plates, an old recipe he’d found involving potato dumplings and diced ham.

  The quiet sound of enthusiastic chewing proved that he’d done well, again. The room was quiet until the food was mostly devoured, and then James and Narveer, opposite David, began to talk over some of the repairs to the shuttles.

  David turned to Damien, who was looking uncomfortable at the social setting.

  “This is just a quiet get-together,” he told the youth. “We’re going to be stuck together on this ship for a while now, if we can’t socialize with each other, we’ll all go mad.”

  “That makes sense,” the Mage admitted. “I hadn’t thought things through that far.” He paused. “How long are we really going to be stuck together?”

  Rice considered sugar-coating the situation for a moment, but decided against it. They’d all volunteered to take on this burden to save Damien, they owed him the truth.

  “If we get into Legatus, get a working contract, and get out to the Fringe with a cargo, the usual Fringe run is twelve to sixteen months,” David told him. “After that, we should be able to sneak back into the MidWorlds to restock and pick up a cargo, but we won’t be able to stay – we’ll have to head back out to the Fringe.”

  “It could easily be five or six years before things die down enough for us to really return to the MidWorlds,” the Captain admitted. “None of us,” he gestured around at the officers, “will ever be able to return to the Core. We’re marked now, and you don’t enter a Core system without that showing up. The MidWorlds… don’t care quite as much.”

  “Five or six years,” the young Mage repeated. “I hadn’t realized saving me could cost so much.”

  Rice shrugged. “Crew is crew,” he said simply. “We don’t abandon our own.”

  Damien was silent for a while, staring at his food. Feeling guilty, Rice tried to change the subject.

  “Speaking of socializing, James tells me that you and Miss LaMonte have been seeing a lot of each other,” he said. To his surprise, Damien jerked like he’d been stung.

  “It’s not like that,” the Mage answered hurriedly. “We’ve just been eating lunch together – she dragged me out of my lab.”

  The Captain, much older and wiser than Damien, decided to mostly hold his peace in response to that.

  “This isn’t a military ship,” he pointed out. “There’d be nothing wrong if there was anything going on.”

  The faint blush on Damien’s cheeks reminded Rice that, however vital the Mage was to the functioning of the ship and however much the entire crew owed him their lives, he was still in his early twenties and one of the youngest people aboard. He decided to spare the youth any more harassment, and glanced across the table to Narveer.

  “Narveer, there’s something I need you to do while we’re in Legatus,” he said softly. The First Pilot recognized his tone, and sat up sharply, his dark eyes attentive to his Captain. “Right now, the only weapons we have aboard are half a dozen pistols and a case of stunguns. While I’m tracking down Carmichael’s contact, I need you to track down a gunrunner and pick us up some real hardware. We’re heading Fringe-ward; I want us to be packing.”

  “Will we find that many guns on Legatus?” Kellers asked, sounding curious.

  “They’re the
biggest arms manufacturer after Sol itself,” Singh told him. “We can find anything we need there – I might even be able to track down an exosuit if I look hard enough.”

  “Nobody else aboard is ‘suit-qualified,” Rice reminded the ex-military man. Exosuits were powered body armor designed for use in vacuum and microgravity, but also used by elite Protectorate soldiers.

  “Then I’ll only pick up one,” Singh replied calmly, and David couldn’t help but laugh.

  “If you find a suit of body armor designed for the Mage-King’s shock troops, I suppose you can buy one,” he allowed.

  #

  “What the hell is that?” Damien asked, staring in surprise as the data being fed to the screens covering the walls of the simulacrum chamber by the Blue Jay’s computers.

  ‘That’ was a massive metal ring around Legatus’s fifth planet, a gas giant roughly the size of Jupiter. Damien had jumped them into the system inside the fifth planet’s orbit and they were heading towards the third planet, Legatus itself, but the mega-structure wrapped around the outer world stuck out like a sore thumb on their sensors.

  “That’s the Centurion Accelerator Ring,” David replied over the link from the bridge. “It’s a million kilometer long series of particle accelerators they use to produce antimatter – the answer of a society that hates Mages to the modern need for antimatter.”

  “That must have been… expensive,” Damien said quietly, looking at the distance measure. The Blue Jay wouldn’t detect a ship of her own size at that distance, even under full acceleration. The immense structure wrapped around Centurion was impossible to miss.

  “Forty years, a million workers, and more money than I think Legatus has ever admitted to anyone,” the Captain confirmed. “They maintain a one light minute no-fly zone around it and no Mage, not even those working for the King, gets inside that no-fly zone.”

  Damien continued to eye the structure for a long moment. He had only minimal training in transmutation, but even he could transmute a few dozen kilograms of antimatter a day. Most systems ran production facilities, with a mix of well-paid volunteer Mages and carefully supervised convicted felon Mages, that churned out thousands of tons of the high energy fuel a year. Legatus, of course, wouldn’t accept that option.

  And the system needed the fuel. That was obvious as he turned his attention to the scanners and cameras tracking the Jay’s destination. The world they were heading to glowed on every spectrum the freighter could detect – heat, light and every other form of electromagnetic radiation.

  Damien had grown up on a MidWorld and he’d never seen a system this busy before. The ship’s computer was tagging ships with numbers as it identified them, and it was already into the dozens of vessels transiting between Legatus, Centurion, and the fourth world – Princeps. Princeps wasn’t even habitable, but it had acquired its own collection of orbital structures supporting what looking like massive mining operations on the surface.

  “I didn’t realize a Core System was this busy,” he admitted aloud, checking for ships that would approach the freighter out of habit.

  “Legatus is the second most industrialized system in human space after Sol itself,” Jenna answered. A glance at the bridge link showed David was busy reviewing their course in-system. “Most of the other Core Worlds would use Mages for a lot of things Legatus uses tech for, so Legatus needs to build and fuel that tech.”

  “The Legatus Self Defense Force is also a much more serious force than most Core security forces,” she continued. “There are hundreds of sub-light gunships in this system, keeping the peace and being paranoid about Mages.”

  “Speak of the Devil,” David interrupted, haloing a closing heat signature on everyone’s screens. “That Crucifix just went squid-mode, and is heading our way fast. Damien…” he trailed off, looking at Damien’s screen.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “I’d rather we not incinerate a police ship, but if they try to arrest us, I know we need more space to jump,” the Captain answered grimly. “Try to disable it if you can, but you are our only defense.”

  “Understood,” Damien answered. The amplifier centered on the simulacrum would allow him to use any of his regular self-defense spells at the ship’s scale, more than enough to deal with a single gunship – but not enough to take on the entire star system!

  He saw almost instantly why Rice had referred to the ship as in ‘squid mode.’ The ship’s main hull was a deep hemisphere, with four pods locked behind it on outriggers, likely providing a magnetic channel to increase the efficiency of the antimatter flare. A quick check of the Jay’s database showed that, normally, the four outriggers were extended around the ship in a cross shape – hence the name of the ship – and rotated to provide artificial gravity to the crew.

  “I’m copying you in our channel,” Jenna told Damien. “They won’t see or hear you, but you’ll see both of us.”

  A second screen popped open next to the bridge link, blank for a long moment.

  “We’re receiving a transmission,” the First Officer announced. “Aligning our com array, and throwing them on-screen.”

  The new screen on Damien’s display lit up, standing out even more sharply against the starscape and sensor data around it. The screen rapidly resolved into a utilitarian command center, six uniformed men and women belted into chairs clearly designed to function as acceleration couches.

  Centered in the camera was a seated woman in a dark blue jumpsuit uniform, gold cuffs and a gold oak leaf on her collar presumably marking her as being in command.

  “I am Lieutenant Commander Hunts of the LSDFS Broadsword,” she stated sharply. “You have performed an unscheduled jump into the Legatus System, identify yourself immediately or be fired upon.”

  The database entry that Damien had pulled up on the Crucifix class gunships happily informed him that the gunship carried a load out of antimatter missiles rated similarly to the Martian Navy – which Hunts was already in range to use.

  “I am Captain David Rice of the independent freighter Blue Jay,” Rice responded immediately. “We are transmitting our credentials now.”

  Seconds ticked by in silence as the crew of the Jay waited for the signal to cross the distance between them, and for the return to reach them as well.

  Hunts relaxed, slightly, from her iron-locked position when they received the transmission and one of her officers gave her a thumbs-up. She made an almost concealed hand gesture, and the Broadsword’s acceleration cut by three quarters - back to a more reasonable single gravity, but still heading towards the Jay.

  “We don’t see a lot of unscheduled jumpships, Captain,” Hunts finally said. “You’re a long way from your last port of call, too – what brings you all the way here from Corinthian?”

  “I was asked to come directly here as a favor for a friend,” David told him. “He told me that a contact of his needed a jumpship transport as soon as possible.”

  Seconds ticked by, and the gunship commander nodded slowly.

  “Understandable,” she answered. “You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I require you to tell me who you were supposed to meet?

  Her tone suggested that whether or not they forgave her was utterly irrelevant.

  “I was asked to meet a man named Bryan Ricket,” David replied.

  This time, Damien recognized the exact moment when Commander Hunts received David’s reply. The Legatan officer physically twitched when she heard the name. Damien wasn’t sure anyone else saw it, but the woman clearly recognized the name.

  “Mr. Ricket may indeed be able to use your services,” Hunts answered, leaning back slightly in her chair. “You are aware, Captain Rice, of the regulations in this system with regards to Mages and runic artifacts?”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “An updated version of the regulations is being sent to you regardless,” she continued. “Make certain your crew – and especially your Mages – obeys it.”

  The tone of voice in which the officer said t
he words ‘Mages’ made Damien very glad he wasn’t openly on the call.

  #

  Legatus’ orbit was busy. Of the almost two thousand thermal contacts that the Blue Jay had picked up in the inner system, each representing a spaceship under engine power, almost eight hundred were in orbit around the system’s main habitable planet.

  The ships were the least of it, though. The sheer scale of the orbital infrastructure dwarfed the surrounding vessels. No less than fifty space stations, each a rival for Sherwood’s Prime station or the Corinthian Spindle, were scattered in various orbits, servicing the ships that filled the system. The two largest, originally captured asteroids, anchored the immense tethers of two space elevators.

  David had seen bigger and more impressive infrastructure twice in his life – around Earth, and around Mars. Each of the Sol system’s two main worlds outclassed Legatus, and combined the system out-produced almost the entire rest of the Protectorate combined.

  “Wait; are those what I think they are?” Jenna asked out loud, distracted for a moment from the delicate process of inserting the Blue Jay into the whirling maelstrom of a Core World’s orbital traffic.

  David followed her questioning gaze and swallowed at the sight she pointed out. Orbiting in neat ranks, just above one of the two massive counterweight stations, was over sixty gunships similar to the one they’d encountered in the outer system.

  “I see,” he paused, checking the system count, “sixty four gunships. Looks like the other Counterweight has a similar flotilla playing guard dog too.”

  Jenna whistled. “That’s a lot of gunships, boss.”

  “Mars has almost as many Navy destroyers in orbit,” David pointed out. “Plus the only full squadron of battleships in the galaxy.”

  “But that’s Mars.”

  “And to these people, Legatus is just as important,” the Captain said quietly. “Do we have docking clearance yet?”

  Jenna checked her instruments.