by Doug Farren
“Don’t get too overconfident,” Tom warned. “We still don’t know what they managed to learn from the Kyrra ship.”
“The Dragon is armed with two Kyrra weapons and is protected by a Kyrra shield,” Scarboro boasted. “They don’t have the shielding and if I remember right the planet killers were armed with only a single weapon. We have the tactical advantage.”
“Are you sure?” Tom asked. “Those planet killers were built to single-handedly go up against entire fleets. A handful of them nearly wiped out the Chroniech race. Be careful.”
“Don’t worry, I will. You and Lashpa had better clear out. I’ve ordered the shuttle to take the scientists to one of Harth’s ships. They’ll be evacuated from the area as soon as they’re aboard. I don’t want any civilians around when the shooting begins.”
“Good thinking Doug. Good luck.”
Scarboro slapped the side of Tom’s arm. “Damn it!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hand. “Couldn’t they have given you a softer exterior?”
“You’re the second person to ask that question,” Tom replied through a smile.
Chapter 33
“Captain on the bridge!” Commander Stiles, the Dragon’s executive officer announced as Scarboro walked through the hatch.
“Status?” Scarboro asked as his eyes scanned the various displays.
“The ship is at battle stations. Weapons ready. Our shield is down pending the departure of the Orion. All power systems active. A Chroniech heavy battleship is approaching—ETA 43 minutes. A second ship identified as a standard battleship is lagging behind.”
“Very well, I relieve you,” Scarboro replied, taking his seat in the command chair.
“I’ll be in CIC,” Stiles said as he headed for the hatch. “Hopefully, this won’t take very long.”
Scarboro keyed a command into his console causing the displays surrounding the command chair to arrange themselves according to his personal profile. “Helm, as soon as the Orion is undocked and clear, set course to intercept and engage at 125Gs. Adjust your acceleration so we are stationary relative to the base at a distance of half-a-million kilometers. Weapons, lock all batteries on the lead ship as soon as you can. Fire at 120,000 kilometers and continue to do so until that ship is a smoking wreck. Coms, get me a line to Captain Harth.”
“Sir,” the Chief Petty Officer Kim Novak sitting at the helm spoke up. “The Orion has undocked and is clear. Engaging sublight drive.”
“Shield is up,” Lieutenant Billings, who was manning the tactical station, reported.
The face of Captain Harth suddenly appeared on one of Scarboro’s screens. “Yes Captain?” she asked.
“I recommend you hold your fleet back and let me handle this. If they’ve managed to mount a Kyrra weapon on that battleship, the Dragon stands a far better chance of surviving than any other ship in the area. I can also engage them at twice the distance you can.”
“Agreed. Holding position. Harth out.”
Twenty-three minutes later, the Dragon was sitting in space waiting to engage the Chroniech battleship. The enemy vessel slowed then dropped out of stardrive 200,000 kilometers from their position.
“I have a lock,” the weapons station calmly announced.
“Tactical, give me an analysis,” Scarboro ordered.
The tactical station scanned the bank of displays built into his station, interpreting the complex data being displayed on them. “Typical Chroniech stardrive wake with only a minor anomaly in the phase relationships. Their shield signature is different showing a configuration we’ve not encountered from any Chroniech vessel. Multiple weapon systems are powered and locked onto our position.”
“Anything indicating the presence of a Kyrra weapon?”
“Not at this time.”
“Continue as ordered.”
The Chroniech opened fire at a distance of 135,000 kilometers.
“Shield is breached and leaking!” Billings screamed as red alarms flared on his panel. “We’re taking damage.”
“Helm, get us out of here!” Scarboro ordered.
“Unable to achieve FTL,” the helm announced, his hands flying over his board. “Interference from the weapon. Initiating emergency acceleration.”
An ear-splitting tone sounded throughout the ship as the helm’s fist slammed down on the initiate button. Doug felt himself pushed into the side of his seat as the ship’s sublight drive quickly ramped up to maximum safe levels. The overloaded internal compensators could no longer completely neutralize the forces being applied to the ship and part of the massive acceleration was now being felt.
The Komodo Dragon slewed sideways out of the path of the beam, accelerating at such a rate that the Chroniech tactical computer briefly lost its lock. The blazing shield suddenly went from full capacity to no load. The power accumulators successfully absorbed the tremendous flood of excess energy as the shield’s fusion reactors quickly ramped down in power. A moment later, the power began to flow back into the device as it now functioned as a stardrive. If one of those power accumulators had malfunctioned, the incredible amount of energy sloshing back and forth through them would certainly have destroyed the ship.
The moment the shield was unloaded, the stardrive matrix field sprang into existence, quickly followed by the main drive field. It took less than two seconds for the Dragon to make the transition to faster than light drive. Scarboro’s body recoiled from the side of the chair, slamming him into the opposite restraint with considerable force. But that was the least of his discomfort. The rapid transition to stardrive was not only hard on equipment, it was even harder on the crew.
Scarboro fought off nausea as a wave of dizziness hit him, followed by a horrific headache. “Damage report!” he yelled, his speech slurred almost to the point of being unintelligible.
The woman sitting at the engineering station rubbed her temples and groaned but said nothing until Scarboro repeated his command. “Multiple hull breaches along the port side from frame three all the way back to frame 212,” she finally replied. “Eight dead, fourteen injured. Internal radiation levels spiked all along the port side—medical is evaluating. Sledgehammer four is destroyed. CWIS mounts four, six, and eight are out of commission. I have signs of damage as deep as ten meters in from the hull. Damage control teams are en route.”
“What the hell hit us?” Bill Owens asked from the communications console. His skin was pale and Scarboro thought he was ready to vomit. The Captain wiped sweat from his forehead hoping nobody would throw up. His own stomach was still churning and the smell of vomit would probably send him over the edge.
“It was an incredibly powerful pulsed FTL beam,” Billings replied. “Instrument readings show it to be very similar to our own Kyrra weapons only far more powerful—well over two tera-joules.”
“Son of a bitch,” Scarboro swore. “That thing tore through our shield like it was hardly there.”
Lieutenant Billings turned to face the Captain. “That beam only grazed us. Our shield disrupted the integrity of its FTL packets, further reducing the damage we received. If our shield had not been built by the Kyrra or if that beam had been a direct hit, we would not be having this conversation.”
“Helm, find out where the fleet is and set a course to intercept. Coms, tell the fleet to leave. If our shield can’t block that weapon, theirs won’t stand a chance. Fire off a complete set of logs and data relating to that weapon to Centralis.”
Petty Officer Owens turned to carry out the Captain’s order at the same time a pair of icons began flashing on his center screen. “Incoming from Peacekeeper Wilks and Captain Harth,” he announced.
“Split multi-way on my main,” Scarboro ordered. A moment later Tom and Harth both appeared on his center screen. “We took a good hit but we’re okay,” he said as soon as the connection was made.
“My telemetry shows your shield provided hardly any protection,” Harth said. “What sort of weapon were they using?”
“My tactical officer says it
was an FTL-enhanced pulsed matter/antimatter beam similar to our own Kyrra weapons, only on a much larger scale,” Scarboro replied. “It went through our shield like it wasn’t even there and still had enough punch to tear us up pretty bad. If they had hit us dead center, I’m not sure we would’ve survived.”
Tom shook his head in wonderment. “We can’t let that ship out of our sight,” he said. “I hate to ask this of you, but the Dragon is the only ship in the Alliance capable of keeping up with a Chroniech battleship and running away if they turn to attack. As long as you’re still spaceworthy, I want you to track that ship. Under no circumstances are you to engage. Keep your distance. We need to know where it is at all times.”
Scarboro did not look at all happy. “We took a lot of damage. I have eight dead and at least fourteen injured. We might have to deal with an unknown number of cases of radiation overdose as well. That type of beam generates a lot of hard gamma.”
“I’ll send a ship to rendezvous with you,” Harth replied. “You can transfer your dead and injured. If there’s anything else you might need I’ll try to get it for you.”
“Doug, I know I’m asking a lot,” Tom pleaded. “I don’t want to use my peacekeeper authority but I will if I have to. We can’t lose track of that ship.”
Scarboro leaned back in his chair and looked at the overhead. After a moment, he chuckled. “You’re right of course,” he said. “We’ll keep an eye on her for you. I told you one day I’d be taking orders from you.”
“I’m not sure I feel very good about it,” Tom said.
“You should,” Scarboro replied, completely serious.
“If the Chroniech leave the area before we get there, put your injured in a shuttle and leave them behind,” Harth suggested. “We’ll pick them up and get them to a medical facility.”
“I’ll be sticking close by for awhile,” Tom added. “I’m curious to see what they do next. I’d love to be around when the fleet Centralis is putting together arrives.”
“That ship will tear them to bits,” Scarboro warned.
“I don’t see how a large fleet is going to help,” Harth said. “Chroniech ships are faster than ours. If we attack with too many ships for them to handle they’ll just retreat. Eliminating them is going to take finesse, not overwhelming numbers.
“I have to agree with the Captain,” Scarboro replied. “Eliminating that battleship is not going to be an easy task.”
“Let’s hope the military brains can find some way to do it without losing too many ships,” Tom said.
“Roger that. Dragon out.”
Chapter 34
Commander Varku stared at the tactical display. “Why are they only sending a single cruiser to engage us?” he asked.
“Captain!” exclaimed the tactical officer, Shagorath. “I’ve identified the Alliance cruiser. It’s the Komodo Dragon!”
Captain Albrath clenched the sides of his chair puncturing the tough leather with his claws. “Are you certain?”
“I am.”
Varku’s upper lip curled exposing his teeth as a low growl rumbled from his throat. “That explains why they only sent one ship. It’s armed with Kyrra weaponry. Fleet command has offered an instant promotion to anyone able to destroy that vessel. Captain, lock all weapons on that ship and prepare to fire!”
“This will be a perfect test for our new weapon,” Captain Albrath said. “Target that ship.”
“Weapons locked. Ready to fire on your command.”
Albrath stood up and walked over to the tactical station. Putting a hand on Shagorath’s shoulder, he squeezed and said, “If you miss, I will tear out your claws and put you to work in the kitchen. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly clear Captain.”
Varku stayed in his chair. As much as he wanted to, he would not deny Albrath his victory. A group commander’s job was to coordinate the operation of the ships under his command. It was the responsibility of each ship’s captain to carry out those orders.
Albrath remained where he was, his eyes focused on the display showing the distance between them and the Alliance ship. As soon as the number hit 135,000 kilometers, he reached over and tapped the firing button for the newly installed Kyrra weapon.
“Die!” Albrath yelled, as the display indicated they’d hit the target. Two seconds later, his triumphant expression vanished to be replaced by one of anger as the display showed the weapon had lost the lock.
“Reacquire or I will- - -” Albrath stopped as the display showed the target was now fleeing under FTL drive.
Albrath spun Shagorath around and put his face five centimeters from that of the tactical officer. He could smell the officer’s fear. “You’d better have a good explanation for this.”
Shagorath looked his superior in the eye and said, “Unlike our own weapons, we cannot electronically steer the beam. We must move the entire weapon and that takes time.”
Albrath stared at him for a moment then violently pushed himself away from the chair. The bridge was absolutely silent as the crew paid particularly close attention to their consoles. “Helm!” Albrath barked. “Set course for the base.”
Varku waited until Albrath was seated before saying, “Although you did not destroy the Komodo Dragon, you did significant damage to it and they are now running away. We have engaged the most powerful ship the Alliance can send against us and we have won. I consider this a victory.”
“I would rather have seen it destroyed,” Albrath replied. “What are your orders Commander?”
“Destroy the base. It will be a good test for the matter converter beam.”
“Tactical!” Albrath barked. “Let’s see if you can hit a target that can’t run away.”
Less than an hour later, the entire base and everything surrounding it had been converted into a glowing pool of molten rock. Not only had the new energy cannon been proven, but so had the matter converter beams.
As soon as the weapons stopped firing, Varku glanced at the tactical display and said, “Captain Albrath, secure from battle stations and set a course of 257 by 17—maximum speed.”
Albrath checked the course and noted that it took them away from Alliance territory and into deep space. Seeing the look on Albrath’s face, Varku said, “The course I specified is correct.”
“Yes Commander,” Albrath replied, still puzzled.
Varku stood up and looked around the bridge as Albrath passed the orders along to his crew. He was very proud of his crew. Trapped in enemy space with no way to return home, they not only survived but now had the power to make the Alliance pay for what they’d done.
“Communications,” Varku began. “I want to address the crews of both ships.”
There was a brief delay as the required connections were established. After a moment, the operator said, “Ready.”
“This is Group Commander Varku,” he began. “An hour ago we engaged an Alliance warship that was modified by the Kyrra. This is the same ship that years ago evaded every effort to destroy it as it made its way across our territory. This ship, the Komodo Dragon, has been sought after by every Chroniech captain since. Instead of standing their ground, the captain of this Alliance warship turned and fled when we demonstrated our superior firepower. The Alliance knows we’re here. They now know what we are capable of. One of their most powerful warships has turned and run from us. We will strike them hard. We will make them pay for what they’ve done to our people. We are vengeance!”
Varku paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in. “It’s time for celebration. For the next two days, ration restrictions are lifted. Eat. Celebrate. And prepare for what is to come.”
* * * * *
Through the sensitive electronic eyes of the Komodo Dragon, Tom watched as the Chroniech battleship reduced their previous base of operations to a molten pool of lava. An analysis of the destruction confirmed their worst fears; the Chroniech were now in possession of a Kyrra planet-killer matter converter device. The combination of the long-range Kyrra
energy cannon and the converter gave the Chroniech the ability to erase all life from nearly any planetary target in a matter of hours.
Tom continued to stare at the frightening readouts and almost missed the fact that the Chroniech had engaged their stardrive. “Orion!” Tom began, as he jerked his head toward the tactical display. “What is the Dragon’s status?”
“The transfer of personnel and equipment to the Kuraktur was completed ten minutes ago,” the ship replied. “The shuttle is en route back to the Dragon but has been instructed to return to the Rouldian cruiser. The Dragon will leave without it to pursue the battleship.”
A moment later, the icon representing the Komodo Dragon changed color, indicating the ship had engaged its stardrive. The display shifted and vectors indicating relative speed and direction appeared.
“Where are they going?” Tom asked.
“There are no known destinations along their current trajectory,” the ship replied.
Tom scratched the back of his head. The Chroniech were leaving. Their base was destroyed. As far as he could tell, there was no longer any reason for him to remain. Tapping an icon on a secondary screen caused Lashpa’s face to appear. “I think our assignment here is done,” he said.
“I agree,” she replied, nodding her head. “We’re about six days from Glish and there’s unfinished business I would like to discuss with you during the trip back. I would prefer to do so in person. Would you- - -”
“I’ll be packed and ready to transfer as soon as our ships dock,” Tom interrupted.
“Are you sure? Lashpa asked. “My guest rooms are still configured for use by Rouldians. Our sanitary facilities are considerably different than yours.”
“I’ll manage,” Tom quickly replied. “Standby for docking.”
“Acknowledged,” Lashpa replied, an instant before the screen blinked into blackness.
Tom was anxious to repair the schism that had appeared between them. She had been cold and distant ever since he’d upset her. Glancing at the control board, he noticed the ship had already made the appropriate course correction. He’d become so used to the Orion doing things without his having to direct it that it was now expected. Knowing the ship could handle the docking by itself, he stood up and headed for the food storage cabinet.
