by Ward Wagher
"It's about two minutes after they were supposed to go in. I think so, yes, Sir." He paused for a moment. "I think I've got the shuttle coming out now, Sir."
"That was quick!"
Daphne had slipped back onto the bridge and set her helmet in the rack behind her chair. She slipped into the chair without saying anything.
"The shuttle is still under EMCON," Simmons said.
"Hopefully they won't see him then, and shove a missile up his tailpipe," Franklin said.
"That's the general idea, Sir. I'm getting some search radar coming up now. Okay, he's gone to military power."
"Can we intercept anything headed his way?" Franklin said.
"Chancy, Sir. There's a risk of dropping something into the city."
Franklin shook his head. "If we dropped a kinetic strike into the middle of Knoxville, they wouldn't be very happy with us."
"That's why we are doing this at night," Ensign Bartlett said brightly.
Daphne made a strangled sound. Franklin shook his head again and leaned over to Daphne. "I guess there is a reason why Fred is a 40-year-old ensign," he said quietly.
"Do you want me to speak to him, Sir?" She replied just as quietly.
"If you can do it without bursting into laughter."
She nodded and leaned back in her chair.
"We have a launch," Simmons announced. "Two birds coming up. The shuttle is coming up mighty fast, Skipper."
"If you see a window to launch counter missiles, go ahead and take it, Lieutenant." Franklin was thinking quickly now. "Helmsman ease us out of the dock."
"Aye, aye, Sir," Sabbath said. His fingers danced across the control board as he engaged the thrusters. We're clear of the station, Skipper."
"Skipper!" Simmons called. “The two birds are in acquisition on the station!"
"We can't have that," Franklin said. "Helmsman, starboard 90,"
"Starboard 90 Aye, Sir.”
Franklin watched the tactical repeater carefully. "Helmsman, ahead 25 gravities, then swing us port around the station, then roll ship. TACO, you're going to get a quick shot."
"Aye, Skipper," Sabbath said. "25 gees and around the station."
Simmons was speaking into his mic. "Ready the close-in weapons." His fingers were dancing over the keys at his station.
Franklin leaned back to watch the evolution of his command. Things were happening too quickly for him to intervene, now. Everything depended on the training he had given the crew over the past several weeks. He was placing Canopus between the station and the missiles coming up from the surface of the planet. The helmsman swung the ship around, then rotated it clockwise around its long axis. As soon as the close-in projectile weapons had a sight line on the missiles they fired.
"One hit. Two hits, Skipper!" Simmons called.
"Good shooting,” Franklin said. "Where's the shuttle?"
"About 50 miles out and decelerating."
Franklin looked over at Daphne. "I guess we'd better get ready to receive the shuttle."
"Aye, aye, Skipper," Daphne said. She touched a button on the arm of her chair.
"Shuttle bay."
"Stand by to receive shuttle," Daphne said.
"Skipper!" Simmons said. "I have a couple of ships at the station powering up."
"What's the threat index, Gabe?" Franklin said.
"CIC thinks one is a frigate, and the other one looks like the cruiser that hit Hepplewhite."
Franklin looked over at Daphne. "That's just ducky," she breathed.
Franklin shrugged. "Chief Barrett, tell the shuttle they don't need to stop for lunch on the way in."
"Aye, Sir," the communication tech said.
Franklin again studied the tactical repeater for the next 30 seconds, as the shuttle made its way to dock with Canopus. There was a solid bump that rumbled its way through the ship when the shuttle docked. The communicator at Daphne's chair chimed.
"Exec, the shuttle has docked."
Daphne leaned over to speak into her hush mic.
"Okay," Franklin said. "Helm, starboard 15, and bring up the nose 60. Take us to military power."
"Starboard 15, up nose 60, military power, aye, Sir," the helmsman repeated.
A few pieces of the structure of the bridge, or the equipment vibrated in sympathy to the almost subsonic rumble as the drives came to full power. The Canopus shot away from orbit around Victor, and headed almost perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic. Franklin had looked for the quickest way to get out of the gravity well around the star Tetrarch, so he could engage the FTL drive.
Daphne stood up. "Skipper, I need to get to the shuttle bay."
"Did they break something?" Franklin asked. "They came in awfully hard."
"Something is going on," she said.
Franklin nodded. "Go ahead, but keep me posted, Exec. Mr. Simmons, what is the status of the contacts?"
"Sir, we are designating the frigate as Red One. Emissions signature indicates Krishna class. It has also left orbit and is accelerating behind us. The other we are designating as Red Two. His drives just came up."
"Can either of them catch us before we go FTL?" Franklin asked.
"Red One will be within our missile range about the time we're out of the gravity well. There is no information on the quality of his ordnance. Red Two probably cannot catch us unless he is a whole lot faster than any cruiser I've ever heard of."
“Time to threshold, Nav?”
"One hour, forty-five minutes, Skipper."
Franklin pushed the connection to engineering. "How are the drives, Louie?"
"Nominally nominal, Skipper."
Franklin broke the connection and rolled his eyes. He scanned the bridge. Each of the crew members were doing their job and things were functioning smoothly. All the drills are paying off, he thought to himself.
His communications circuit chimed. He punched the button. "Bridge, Captain."
"It's the Exec, Skipper."
"Status, Exec?"
"We got our people out without a scratch. We have some damage to the shuttle and the bay from the docking..."
Franklin frowned at the hesitation in her voice. "What about the Foxworths, Daphne?"
There was a long pause. "They are in bad shape, Skipper," she said quietly. "We have them in the sick bay. And Skipper, they brought along another couple of hostages."
Franklin leaned back and bit his lower lip. He leaned over and rubbed his brow with a finger. "Are things in the shuttle bay under control?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Then I need you on the bridge, Exec."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
After he disconnected from Daphne, Franklin leaned back in his chair and thought carefully before speaking. "Change of plans, Nav."
"Yes, Sir?"
"Keep refining your course to the FTL threshold. Calculate the best course to get us there ahead of that frigate. Then lay in a course to Vance. We are probably going to need the hospital facilities on Harcourt's world."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
"TACO, What do you think our bogey is going to do?"
"Red One has got to know he can't catch us before the FTL threshold. Either he is hoping for an engineering casualty on our part, or he's going to chase us into supralight."
"Do you think we can drop a little something into the water for him to run over just as he reaches the threshold? I mean so that he won't see it?"
Simmons cocked his head and scanned the data once again. "Hard to say, Skipper. As far as sensor suites go, most pirates are carrying junk. But this bird seems pretty sharp. I'd call it 50-50."
Franklin studied the tactical display some more. "If that cruiser gets into overdrive and the two of them run us down, we will have our hands full."
Simmons typed some more into his keyboard. "I think we can ease a missile out of the tube and let it coast. I can program it to activate when it picks up the frigate on passives. But we won't be able to control it because we'll already be in FTL"
"When would be the optimal time to do something like this?"
"Just as we transition to FTL. The big burst of Berthold waves will cover the launch up as we transition."
Franklin frowned. "Considering what I paid for the things, I hate to waste a bird. Set it up, Gabe. I’ll make the final call when we get there."
"I'm on it, Skipper."
Franklin then turned and slipped out of his chair when a white faced Daphne walked out of the elevator. He took her by the arm and led her to one corner of the bridge.
"How bad is it, Daff?" He said quietly.
She shook her head and shuddered. "Rape is such a filthy thing."
“They raped her?"
"Both of them." She stuck a knuckle in her mouth and chewed on it. "Repeatedly. Both have internal bleeding. They were both severely beaten too. Our corpsman is good, but they really need a hospital."
"I've already set up a course change to take us back to Harcourt," Franklin said. "I'd like to stick around and take care of these vermin permanently, but it looks like the Foxworths are our first order of business. How's Signe?"
"How do you think she is? If you think she was out for blood before..."
“Who are the other hostages?”
“Unsure at this point, Skipper. A young woman and her daughter – looks like the little girl is four or five. They were hysterical when we brought them in. Riggs is helping the SBA to try to settle them down.”
“Are they hurt too?”
Daphne nodded, her eyes full of tears.
“The child too?”
Daphne couldn't speak.
Franklin shook his head. "This is precisely why Krause wants us to be able to protect ourselves, because sure as God made little green apples the Navy isn't going to be able to take care of this. We will be back."
Daphne gazed at Franklin. She gulped a few times before she found her voice. "Can we afford that, Franklin? I mean, I have some very creative ways in mind to settle the score with Manfred Higginbotham..."
"And so will everyone else on the ship," Franklin interrupted. "Just as soon as they hear about it. And that will be in about five minutes, the way word gets around here.”
"And what will happen if we fire our magazines dry here? How will we be able to protect Hepplewhite? We don't have the money to reload."
Franklin looked down at the deck. He looked up again and scanned the room, again watching the crew members going about their tasks.
"I don't think we can afford not to, Daphne. It's a no-win situation. I've got to take the best way out I can."
chapter twenty-four
"Thirty seconds to FTL," the navigator said.
Franklin sat in his chair and chewed on a thumbnail. "I've thought it over, TACO. Let's drop a missile."
"We are set up and ready to go," Simmons said. "Can you give me a three degree drift to port about five seconds before we engage?"
"Helm, make it so," Franklin said.
"Aye, aye, skipper," Sabbath said.
"We can launch on your command, Simmons," Franklin said. "I don't want to jog your elbow."
"Aye, aye, Skipper. Passive launch of one missile as we transition to FTL."
Franklin glanced over at Daphne and then straightened up in his chair. He watched the tactical display closely as the seconds counted down. At the 5 second mark Sabbath eased the ship's nose five degrees to the left. There was a slight shudder as the ship shifted into Berthold Singularity Drive.
"Transition to FTL complete, Sir," Sabbath said.
"Missile away, Sir," Simmons said.
"Time to target?"
"Two minutes, Sir. No way to detect a hit, though."
Franklin looked at Simmons as he would a small child. "We will know if he goes FTL."
Simmons turned bright red. "Excuse me, Sir. I should have thought of that."
The burst of Berthold waves that accompany a ship transitioning into FTL was instantly detectable up to distances of twenty-five light minutes by most modern sensor suites. It was detectable by ships who were themselves running in FTL mode, if they were in the twenty-five light minute radius.
"That missile launch was handsomely done, people," Franklin said. "But, let's keep a close sensor watch."
Franklin and Daphne watched the tactical display carefully over the next few minutes. Everyone on the bridge seemed to hold their breath as they waited to see if the frigate made the transition to FTL. After five minutes Franklin sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I am willing to think we got him. Let's give it another fifteen minutes before we secure from quarters. Helm, let's ease back to eighty percent on the power levels."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
"I'll be glad to get out of this space suit, Sir," Daphne said quietly.
"Ain't that the truth? Beats the alternative, though."
She nodded, but said nothing further as they watched the crew members on the bridge go about their jobs. The activity settled quickly into a routine as everyone relaxed. Franklin was just starting to think about a cup of coffee when the FTL drive dropped out with a thump.
"Sublight, Skipper!" the helmsman said.
"Simmons, keep the sensors on passive only at this time," Franklin said, as he punched the button on his chair.
"Engineering, Ensign Chaplin."
"This is the captain. Where's Louie, Ensign?"
"Sir, the drives just dropped off line. The CHENG is investigating."
"Have we got sublight?"
"Negative, Sir. Everything is down."
Franklin looked at Daphne and pointed to the elevator with his thumb.
"On my way, Sir." She quickly jumped out of her chair and trotted to the elevator doors.
Franklin spun around to face the tactical officer. "Our first order of business is for you to run a scan on the Canopus. Make sure there are no spurious emissions. We need to be as quiet as the grave."
"Aye, aye, Skipper." Simmons was pounding away on his keyboard while at the same time talking to CIC over his headset. Franklin looked down at the tactical display, which showed the estimated positions of all the players according to the computer's best estimate.
Simmons stopped typing and looked carefully at his display screens. "Okay, Skipper. We are about as quiet as we are going to get. The only things radiating are the radiation screens."
"Can we drop them too?" Franklin asked.
"Not at this velocity, Sir. The particle densities are too high in this area."
Franklin looked down as his tactical display refresh itself. "I see CIC updated the tactical picture. Talk to me about that, Lieutenant."
"Yes, Sir. We are not detecting the frigate. Since Red Two still has his search radar up, I am guessing we got a piece of Red One, if we did not score an outright destroy."
"Is Red Two still headed this way?"
"Yes, Sir. However, his vector is about five degrees away from our heading. I suspect our course change just before we went into FTL threw him off."
"How long until he can pick us up on his radar?"
Simmons chewed a thumbnail for a moment and then typed some more. "Based upon the strength of his radar transmitter, I think he will miss us completely, unless he starts a search pattern. He'll be outside of the detection envelope as he comes past us."
"The sixty-four dollar question,” Franklin asked, “is why did he not see the Berthold wave when we dropped out of FTL?"
"That's been bothering me too, Skipper. The only possibility I can think of is that the effects of our missile detonation futzed up his sensors."
Franklin grinned. "I am not willing to complain about a little good luck. Keep a close eye on him. If he stumbles across us while we are dead in the water like this, things will get interesting."
"Aye, aye, Skipper, and I concur. No excitement today, please."
Franklin snorted, and then pushed the general communications button on his chair. A chime sounded throughout the ship. "This is the captain. Let me bring you up to date on what has happened. We successfully res
cued Prime Minister and Mrs. Foxworth from their captors, along with two other hostages. We appear to have damaged or destroyed one of our pursuers. A second pursuer is even now searching for us. Therefore we will remain at quarters for the time being. We need to remain alert and be prepared to fight the ship at a moment’s notice."
"You have done extremely well so far. We will all have a lot to talk about when we get back to Hepplewhite." He punched the button again to disconnect and leaned back in his chair. "Mr. Simmons, inform me immediately of any course changes by the target."
"Aye, aye, Sir.”
The communicator on his chair trilled. He pushed the button again. "Bridge, Captain."
"It's the Exec, Skipper."
"Status report, Daphne," Franklin said.
"We lost the number one plasma conduit to the drives. Louie shut everything down so he could assess the damage."
"Probably a good idea," Franklin said. "If we had lost both conduits, we would be in real trouble. How long until we can fire up again?"
"If the diagnostics are clean, I would call it forty-five minutes to an hour."
"Stay on it, exec; and keep me posted."
"Aye, aye, Sir.”
"Skipper!" Simmons called.
"What is it, Mr. Simmons?"
"Target has changed course. I think he is starting a search pattern."
Franklin looked down at his tactical display. "He's turned directly away from us, then?"
"Yes, sir. Once he finishes this leg we will have a better idea of what he is doing."
"His search radar makes a dandy little beacon for us, doesn't it?"
Simmons snorted. "If he was smart he would turn it off and search for us on passives. That radar does not do him the least bit of good unless he knows where to point it."
Franklin sighed. "I'm very happy with him being an idiot, Lieutenant."
Simmons looked at him and grinned. "It's all in a day's work, Sir."
"Can you manage the conn from there, Simmons?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Okay, then. I'll be in my ready room. Call me if there are any course changes. You have the conn."
"Aye, aye, Sir. I have the conn."
Franklin clumped into the ready room. His suit clipped the doorway on the way in, and he staggered sideways, slightly. He slipped into the chair behind his desk and touched the communicator.
