Defiance (Interstellar Outlaws Book 1) Read online

  DEFIANCE

  Interstellar Outlaws Book 1

  Raymond Cooper

  Copyright © 2018

  Interstellar Press

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to historical places, events or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter One

  Virginia

  “Two UCP Battlecruisers dropping out of hyperspace at our twelve o'clock, Captain,” Dak reported.

  I looked at the view screen, staring at the vast blackness of space before us and quickly contemplated my next move.

  “And here I thought we were going to make a clean getaway,” I mused.

  “Right. And when exactly has that ever happened, Captain?” Kyndra chuckled from her position at the weapons console.

  Dak and Kyndra were my crew. My loyal friends. And two of the finest people I'd ever had the good fortune to serve with. Well – when we'd served together, anyway. Dak and Kyndra had been part of my unit back when we were fighting the last Great War.

  Back then, we'd been part of the rebellion fighting for a better future for people in star systems far and wide. We were fighters tasked with overthrowing a corrupt governmental regime that was brutal in its tactics, oppressive in its policies, and heartless in regard to its people.

  We'd fought, believing that we were getting rid of a government that cared nothing for its people and would be replacing it with one that did. With a government that valued equality for all people, that would care for the weakest among us, regardless of what planet they came from. We fought for a government we'd believed would never fail to do right by its people.

  That's what we'd fought for. What we'd bled and died for. And that's what we'd thought we were getting when we finally claimed victory, after years of hard-fought war.

  Christ, we'd been stupid back then. Young, naive, and idealistic. Stupid.

  On the screen ahead of us, the two massive UCP Battlecruisers that had dropped out of hyperspace and appeared before us were large, bristling with guns, and no doubt, captained by men with bad attitudes and itchy trigger fingers. The Battlecruisers made for a ferocious sight. And I'd seen plenty of them up close and personal already. If I never saw another one, it'd be too soon.

  The new governmental body, the UCP – the United Coalition of Planets – had simply repurposed all of the captured material, including ships, that the deposed regime had been forced to leave behind.

  “Cruisers will be in missile lock range in thirty seconds,” Dak said.

  “Well, let's not let them get within range then,” I replied.

  Dak looked at me, his eyes uncertain. “You know we can't outrun those cruisers.”

  “I know,” I said. “But, you're an ace pilot. Best I've ever known. I'm sure you can find some way to keep us out of harm's way until we can make the jump ourselves. Keep us from getting pulverized and head for Dead Man's Reach.”

  “Yeah, easy for you to say,” Dak muttered, mostly to himself.

  I laughed, but truth be told, I was more than a little nervous. Though we generally did a good job of flying below the radar and staying out of trouble, our scrapes with UCP ships had increased lately. Increased and had gotten a lot closer. It was like the Chancellor had stepped up his anti-smuggling efforts or something.

  Or, because of who I was, they'd specifically targeted me.

  Either way, with two Battlecruisers breathing down our necks, we were in some trouble. Dak altered his course, putting the UCP ships behind us, and punched it. Not that it helped all that much. My little Cluster-Class ship was built for transporting cargo and passengers – not for outrunning Battlecruisers. And though we'd made a few modifications – including adding some teeth to my girl – there was no way in hell we could stand toe-to-toe with a Battlecruiser and not expect to be vaporized.

  My ship, the Silver Sparrow, was the perfect smuggler's ship. Plenty of room to hold – and hide – contraband goods, speed to outrun most patrol vessels, and enough firepower to sting somebody just enough to allow us to get away, if necessary.

  I looked at the monitors on the console at my chair and then glanced up at the view screen again. We'd gotten a bit of a boost when Dak goosed the ship, but the UCP ships were quickly closing the distance between us.

  “Missile range in fifteen seconds,” he reported, his voice grim.

  “How long until the jump core is ready?” I asked.

  “Thirty seconds.”

  “Yeah, the math isn't exactly on our side,” I quipped.

  “Battlecruisers are firing,” Kyndra said.

  I watched on the view screen as the gun batteries lit up, watched, as the tracer rounds sailed by. All of the shots were wide of the mark. Though, I'm sure that was intentional.

  “Incoming transmission,” Kyndra said.

  “Oh, good,” I replied. “I was hoping they'd at least say hello before they blew us into dust.”

  “The UCP is nothing, if not polite,” Dak said dryly.

  “Well, let's not keep them waiting,” I said. “On screen.”

  Dak punched a couple of buttons and the picture on the view screen changed from the Battlecruisers to the face of a man in a black UCP uniform. He was a bit older than me, with thinning brown hair, watery blue eyes, and a perpetually constipated look on his face. It was the face of a man I know well.

  “Well, as I live and breathe,” I said. “Logan Noritz. And with shiny new Captain's stars to boot, I see. Apparently, being a graceless, classless, ass-kissing lapdog is good for the upward mobility of a man who otherwise doesn't have the talent to lead a pack of horses to water. I'd offer you my congratulations, but we both know you didn't actually earn those stars.”

  Dak and Kyndra, not to mention a few of Noritz's crew behind him stifled a chuckle – but just barely. Onscreen, Noritz shot a withering glare at the crew behind him, and they all quickly turned and faced their consoles. Turning back to me, Noritz rolled his eyes and did his best to look patient and all Captain-like.

  “I wish I could say it's a pleasure to see you again, Virginia,” he replied, his voice sounding as constipated as his face looked, “but you and I both know that would be a lie.”

  Noritz looked utterly pleased with himself, obviously believing he'd just delivered a devastating zinger. When nobody so much as gave him a courtesy laugh, his face fell and his expression morphed back into that look of pure constipation that seeme
d to be his trademark.

  I widened my eyes and put on a feigned expression of devastation, putting my hands over my heart while I made faux-sobbing sounds.

  “Oh, you got me, Logan,” I said. “I sometimes forget you have that rapier-like wit that cuts me to the bone. Oh, woe is me, how will I ever recover from such a horrific verbal wound?”

  At the sound of more snickering behind him, Nortiz's face darkened. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched – and I had to imagine that some folks on the bridge of the Battlecruiser weren't going to be too thrilled with the fact that they were likely going to be on mop and latrine duty soon enough.

  Not that I felt the slightest bit of pity for them. That's what you get when you make poor life choices – like enlisting with the UCP military.

  “So, Logan, not that I don't appreciate this little stroll down memory lane and all,” I said, “I couldn't help but notice though, the shot across our bow back there a minute ago – which, I take to mean you want our attention. So, what can I do for you? Need my recipe for that super good cake we had on Antovia during the war or something?”

  “Hardly,” he replied, his voice moving from constipated to nasally and whiny. “It has come to our attention that you are carrying a shipment of illegal goods, obtained illegally, for illegal purposes.”

  “Wow,” I said. “How many times can you say illegally in one sentence? Let me give you a helpful tip – vary up your adjectives from time to time. It helps you sound more official and like you actually do know your ass from a hole in the ground.”

  Before his crewmen could even think to stifle a laugh, Noritz turned around and gave them a glare – the visual equivalent of a shot across the bow. Not a man looked up from their console.

  “You are smuggling contraband materials,” he said. “That is a violation of the law and – ”

  “We are doing no such thing,” I said and turned to Kyndra. “Kyndra? Have you seen any contraband materials on board the ship?”

  Kyndra shook her head, her face a mask of neutrality. “Nothing of the sort,” she said. “We're all above board here, Captain.”

  “Dak?” I turned to my pilot. “Did you happen to bring any contraband material onboard?”

  “Nope,” he replied. “Sure didn't.”

  I was painfully aware of the seconds ticking by and knew that it was only a matter of moments before the Battlecruisers would be able to get a missile lock on us. I was only hoping to stall him long enough to get us close to the Reach.

  “See, Logan?” I said affably. “No contraband material here.”

  He rolled his eyes again. “And I'm sure we can take you at your word.”

  “Damn straight,” I replied. “My word is my bond and all that.”

  “Nevertheless,” he droned on. “Prepare to be boarded for inspection.”

  “Yeah, as tempting as that is, I'm going to have to respectfully decline,” I said. “We're not exactly ready for guests. I haven't had a chance to clean the place up, and – ”

  “This is not a game, Virginia,” Noritz snapped. “You are compelled, by law, to stop your ship and prepare for a boarding party. Your cargo will be inspected.”

  “Okay, just give me a minute to tidy up and put something nice on for you,” I punched the button, terminating the transmission.

  “Dak?”

  “Just about to the Reach,” he said. “Though, I feel compelled to say that going in there is suicide.”

  “No, going in there is a calculated risk,” Kyndra said, a chuckle in her voice. “Staying out here with those Battlecruisers up our backsides is suicide.”

  “Let me just say, for the record, that I'm not a fan of this plan,” Dak said, a nervous tremor in his words

  “Noted,” I said. “Desperate times, my friend. Desperate times. Just keep us from getting blown up in there.”

  Truth was, I usually plotted that course when we were on a run, hoping we'd never have to use it. The Reach was a desperation move and one I'd only had to use a few times over my long and storied career as a smuggler. It was far from ideal, but, knowing it was out there gave me some odd sense of security. Sort of. Which maybe said a lot about my mental state.

  The Reach was the junkyard of several different systems. Planets hauled their garbage out there and dumped it, making for a miles-long, miles-wide collection of destroyed spacecraft and all sorts of live ordinance. I'd even heard talk of there being some active nukes still floating around in it. And all of that space debris was mixed in a with an asteroid belt chaser, making it even more treacherous to pass through.

  It was so bad – and so many people had been blown up over the years – that not even scavengers and treasure hunters came there. Not very often, at least. Only the most experienced pilots who had nerves of absolute steel would even risk trying to pick their way through the Reach.

  A nervous flutter rumbled through my gut and I looked over at Dak, seeing the beads of sweat forming on his brow. His face was pensive and I was half-afraid he was going to piss himself. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he was the best pilot I'd ever known. Hands down. Though, I wouldn't say that he had nerves of steel. Maybe more like nerves of aluminum foil.

  But hey, one out of two wasn't bad, I supposed.

  “Battlecruisers deploying Raptors,” Kyndra reported from her station.

  “Dak – ”

  “On it,” he said. “I still don't like the plan though.”

  Given the amount of ordinance supposedly still within the Reach, the UCP wasn't about to send any of their ships into it. Nor would they get close enough to even launch missiles, given that the shockwave of a nuclear detonation could do some serious damage to their ships.

  Instead, they send in one of their newest toys – drone fighters they call Raptors. They were laser-guided remote craft controlled from afar. The Raptors were fast, heavily armed, could blow you to pieces, didn't require living beings to fly them, and they were easily replaced. No muss, no fuss, and best of all – cost-efficient.

  It was a smart weapon to have in their arsenal, no question about that. But, it also had a glaring weakness that they'd not yet accounted for. Given that it was controlled by computers, if you knew the right people, computers could always be hacked. And because I was who I was and did what I did, I just so happened to know the right people.

  The UCP didn't yet realize the technology existed – or maybe they were just so arrogant that they didn't care – but I'd managed to get my hands on one and outfitted the Sparrow with it.

  The only hitch though - because there was always a hitch - was that the drones needed to be within fifty meters before they could be disabled. Well within missile range, which made it a bit – dicey. To say the least.

  But still, the odds of surviving the drones was a hell of a lot better than the odds of surviving an encounter with a Battlecruiser.

  “Battlecruisers are stopping and holding position,” Kyndra said.

  “Entering the Reach,” Dak added. “Hold on to your asses.”

  “Drones within two hundred meters,” Kyndra reported. “Closing fast.”

  They were going to be on top of us before we knew it. My whole body was tense as I watched the view screen, watched as Dak piloted us through the debris in the Reach. We passed the charred, ragged remains of a Destroyer – likely blown up during the Great War. Smaller ships – transports, cargo haulers, passenger liners – they were all scattered around the cluttered debris of the Reach.

  The place was eerie and had the feel of an old boneyard, filled with ghosts and goblins. I felt the goosebumps march along my flesh like an army of ants and I shuddered.

  And lurking within it all were mines and other things that would blow a hole in the Sparrow faster than I could say “boom.”

  “Missile away,” Kyndra said.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “I can't believe they're risking firing missiles in here!”

  “The Battlecruisers are holding a safe distance away,” Kyndra said. “The
effect on those ships from a nuke going off in here would be minimal.”

  “I guess they're learning, which is bad for us,” I said. “Son of a bitch.”

  A moment later, an explosion off the port side rocked the Sparrow, sending a shockwave through the hull of my ship. It rumbled, groaned, and threatened to send us sliding to the right. But Dak, being the crack pilot he was, kept us under control and out of harm's way. Thankfully.

  “Hold on,” he shouted.

  Apparently, I'd spoken too soon. Dak powered the ship into a steep dive that made my stomach lurch. As scary as the dive was though, I saw the large mine sitting in the path before us and was suddenly grateful that Dak had reflexes like a cat.

  One of the Raptors tailing us though, wasn't quite so lucky. I saw a bright flash of light and another powerful shockwave buffeted the ship. The sound of debris clanging off the hull of the Sparrow was loud, reverberated through the bones of my ship, and I said a silent word, hoping like hell it didn't tear a hole in her.

  “Distance of those Raptors?” I called out.

  “Seventy five meters,” Kyndra replied. “Still closing.”

  Dak moved us through a series of gut-wrenching maneuvers as he piloted us through the debris field, narrowly avoiding disaster more than once. He did an unbelievably good job of keeping us from hitting any ordinance and blowing ourselves up, while barely dodging the missiles the Raptors were lobbing at us. Like I said, he was a crack pilot.

  “Sixty meters,” Kyndra called out.

  “Is the jump core ready?” I asked.

  “Ready, Captain,” Kyndra replied. “As soon as we clear the Reach, we can jump.”

  Another explosion off the starboard side made the Sparrow shudder and the hull groan like a wounded beast. The sound of debris slamming into the hull echoed through the bridge, making me wince. Being primarily a cargo and transport vessel, the Sparrow had never been outfitted with strong shields. We barely had anything in the way of shields, to be honest.

  And in that moment, I regretted not having them upgraded along with our weapons systems.