Rogue Pilot (Space Scout Book 3) by Will Macmillan Jones

Author:Will Macmillan Jones [Macmillan Jones, Will]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Kite Publishing Ltd
Published: 2018-07-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter six

Octagon Eight could have hung like a jewel against a backdrop of stars scattered on the velvet night of infinity. But it didn’t. Instead it lurked deep within a system that seemed to be devoid of all the basic pleasantries of space life. There were no guidance beacons, no Flight Information System for incoming or leaving pilots, or indeed any guidance for the traffic. Of which there was, in fact, plenty although mostly interplanetary rather than interstellar.

Left to their own devices the pilots had created a rough traffic system, but it was quite haphazard. Emerging from hyperspace at the edge of the system, I slid the Speedbird into orbit around the moon of the outermost planet and made some coffee in the small kitchen.

Returning to the flight deck, I sat back in the pilot’s chair and turned on all the vidscreens. The lights on the small craft plying back and forth were quite pretty in their own right, but rather than be distracted by the view I was trying to work out the pattern of movement. I didn’t want to plunge down into the system only to collide with some rough and probably unwashed shuttle pilot. I was confident that the Speedbird could fight her way out of any such confrontation, but restocking the weapons systems was fiendishly expensive and quite risky as the arms were not legally on sale, despite being freely available if you knew where to shop.

After an hour or so, a pattern of movement became clear. I finished the coffee, which was cold now but too good to waste, and raised the power levels. The engines seemed to be rather sluggish in response, so before leaving the lunar orbit I throttled back, ran a full diagnostic check and checked my underwear. Neither showed any damage. According to the computer, the engines were fully operational with no problems or maintenance issues.

Again I raised the power level. This time the engines replied at once, without hesitation. I filed the anomaly away at the back of my mind for proper inspection later, when I had time and hopefully some money for any repair work. Taking manual control, I set a course away from the outer moon and let the Speedbird fall deeper into the system at a slow cruising speed. There was a long line of small cargo shuttles winding its way through the system and heading eventually towards Octagon Eight.

I opened up the commschannels. I expected to hear a normal hum of basic chatter, with pilots offering flight information, speeds and vectors, in a normal and self disciplined manner. Instead the speakers rattled with invective in as many languages as were spread across the galaxy, as the shuttle pilots jockeyed for position in the throng and encouraged others to keep back or away in the most lurid terms you can imagine. Drunken sports crowds had nothing on this, it even managed to be worse than the language you can hear from the mothers fighting for a parking

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