Chapter Sixty-Six - Missiles are Hot

The modern missile was a hot, sweet piece of technology. Mass printed in specialised machines, loaded up with only the most disposable of tech, and then launched at some unsuspecting fool with all the precision their tiny mechanical brains could muster.

In the modern era of space combat, the missile was a weak little deterrent, only able to scare off the under armoured and unshielded.

They were the flip side of the guided projectile coin. On the other sat the torpedo, the larger, smarter, far more deadly cousin of the missile.

A swarm of some dozen missiles, however? That was something to worry about.

Ivil found herself slowing down her perception of time as she watched Pixie fly at a swarm of incoming missiles.

Within her ship, the tiny woman's eyes twitched, and her Nightstalker launched chaff above and below itself. The twinkling little heat signatures flew up and then spun in dizzying patterns.

Pixie herself fired her manoeuvring thrusters and spun her ship around. Two small pods opened up at the front of the Nightstalker, revealing glassy domes. There were flashes, pulses of energy that were almost light, invisible to most, but nonetheless dangerous. They connected with the centre of the incoming swarm and soon half a dozen missiles had been turned to slag.

Pixie aligned herself, then pulled the trigger. Her ship's cannons would have roared loud enough to shake every window in a city on Earth, but in the void they were little more than twin bright flashes in the dark.

Their projectiles raced ahead, two 105mm shells packed full of explosives and a proximity detonator.

They went off within spitting distance of one of the snub-fighters. What came out of the explosion was a smoking wreck that quickly spun out of control.

By then, however, the distance between the two groups had been cut down to nothing. The remaining snub-fighter opened up with its belly gun and sprayed in Pixie's direction. She rolled, ducking under the spray like an expert ball dancer showing off. When she came out of the weave, she opened up with her own faster-firing gun.

The snub-fighter ducked out of the way, but not before earning a few dozen small punctures in one of its wings. It was pissing hydraulics as it and Pixie's ship blew past each other.

Now she was on the gunship, and the fat little vessel had nothing but its slow-tracking turrets to fight her with.

They still tried, and one shot came close enough that it exploded along the edge of Pixie's shields. What came out of the blast was an angry warfighter spitting lead followed by a few missiles that had finally spun around to catch up.

She ripped the gunship apart, then shut off her engine and spun around on herself so that her point-defence could better lock onto the incoming missiles.

Which meant that nothing was stopping the snub-fighter from continuing on its merry way.

There was a tendency amongst most to focus on the greater threat at all times. Which was why it was strange that the pilot of this last snub-fighter decided to die in a blaze of glory while taking out their shuttle.

He rushed their way, giving his engine a kick and launching the last of his little ship's missiles. Then his main gun opened up, spraying bullets out their way.

There was nothing Pixie could reasonably do. She fired from behind, and she was certainly going to hit, but those missiles were launched and at that range taking them out was impossible. Not to mention the spray of bullets rushing their way.

Ivil created a wall of impassable force in their path.

The snub-fighter, not being an immovable object, met this wall of force like a soda can in the path of a bullet-train.

"Twenty-Six," Ivil said as she snapped her perception back into place. "Could you identify a ship based on a description of it?"

"Like, just words?" Twenty-Six asked. "I guess, if it's a distinct-enough ship?"

"Hmm, no, I don't have the vernacular to do that," Ivil admitted. So she raised a hand, plucked some photons out of the air with her will, and weaved the rough design of the snub-fighters in the air between them as a sort of hologram.

"Oh," Twenty-Six said as she leaned forwards. "That's... maybe a Jupiter-built snub-fighter? See that gun under the cockpit. They're nicknamed chinguns. Very popular around here. Uh, the cockpit, how many bands across the top did it have?" She pantomimed the outline of a cockpit.

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"Two, if I recall," Ivil said.

"So, that narrows it down. That's a Titanian Pyrrole Mark six, or seven."

"What's the difference between the two?" Ivil asked.

"Can you show me the interior? I'll be able to narrow it down more from there."

"Nevermind, I think at that point it's academic. What about this gunship?"

Twenty-Six only stared for a second. "Oh, easy one. TMCC-600. There's like, a billion mods for these, but that frame is ugly on all of them. Another? This is fun!"

Ivil turned towards Aurora who was paying close attention. "Three of these Pyrrolle six-or-sevens and one of these TMCC-600s just tried to kill us all."

"Oh, suddenly less fun," Twenty-Six muttered.

Pepper sat up. "Just now?"

"Yes. Pixie took care of most of them, it's fine. I can't see anything else around us that's a threat for some distance. We should arrive at the station in one piece, so don't worry."

"Does anyone here other than myself know of some reason people would want them dead to the point where a squadron of fighters would be sent after them?" Ivil asked.

"Other than yourself?" Aurora asked.

Twenty-Six shook her head. "I don't think anyone important even knows that I exist," she said.

Pepper gave Twenty-Six a look before deadpanning. "You'd be surprised."

Ivil nodded to Aurora. "Other than myself, yes. The one advantage here is that I don't think any of my... adversaries are aware that I'm even near Jupiter, let alone on this one particular shuttle. Besides, they know that it would take more than a few snub-fighters to take me out."

"Confident, are we?" Aurora asked. She frowned a little, marring her pretty smile. "But yes, this is definitely about taking me out."

"Why?" Twenty-Six asked. "You're so nice, why would anyone try to kill you?"

Aurora huffed. "Because I'm representing Phobos. You'll notice that in all of the information I've given about the League of Free Moons, two moons were conspicuously absent."

"Luna and Deimos," Ivil said. "Earth and Mars' moons, respectively."

She nodded. "Luna isn't the most developed moon in the system, but it's damned close. It's the Earth Alliance's industrial complex, training grounds, in-space habitation hub, and a lot more. A full eighty percent of the ships they build are built on Luna, and that all means that the moon isn't, in any real sense, independent."

"And likewise for Deimos," Ivil said. "It's a former staging ground for the Martian Navy."

"Former?" Twenty-Six asked.

Ivil shrugged. This wasn't exactly a state secret. More like a state privileged information. Pepper was giving her a look, but Ivil decided that it didn't matter. "Luna is a prime target at the moment. If a fourth inter-system war breaks out it's almost guaranteed to be bombed into oblivion in the starting months. Mars assumes the same of Deimos, so the navy has moved much of its production off the moon and into stations in orbit."

"Neat," Twenty-Six said. "And the commercial grade stuff?"

"Has frequently taken over old Martian Navy factories," Ivil said.

"In any case, that's why neither moon was even invited to any part of the conference," Aurora said. "No one will be willing to share part of the thousand cores discovered with either moon."

"Thousand cores?" Pepper asked as she perked up.

Ivil cleared her throat. "Keep that to yourself, please," she advised. It was more like an order, really.

"Ah, yes, of course."

"So, what's Deimos and Luna have to do with people wanting you dead?" Twenty-Six asked sweetly.

"A lot of factions consider Phobos no better than Deimos. We're just as close to Mars in the grand scheme of things, and our ties to Mars are closer than any other moon's ties to any other superpower in the system."

"Oh," Twenty-Six said. "So it's like a company allegiance thing?"

"I... suppose, vaguely. That's one reason why people might consider us a threat at the moment, at least."

"To the degree where they'd be willing to kill you en-route to a meeting?" Ivil asked.

Aurora didn't reply right away, not before a device on her person rang. She answered, and Pixie's voice came over the line.

"Heya! Just smoked three bandits and the last one... kind of exploded for no apparent reason? I'm assuming some fuckery on someone's part. In any case, looks like hiring me was the right call because I'm earning my keep out here!"

***