by Dale Sale
“I Right,”
Lenore sniffed and turned away. “I have work to do, and so do both of you.”
Gus Johannson was keeping the screening asteroid between him and Erebus. I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. “How you doing out there, Sheridan?” The former EV Mate used a comm hardline for radio silence.
Drake sounded cheerful. “Just enjoying the view Skipper!” Then he sang a jaunty ancient tune about the bright night stars on a far-away world called Texas, finishing with three claps to his helmet.
Gus replied, “Yeah Cowboy, whatever it takes to calm your nerves.”
Drake jested, “No nerves here, I’m cool as a comet at aphelion.”
Gus puffed a cold plasma thruster to ease the ship out of the shadows. There you are, you sneaky bastard! He could see Erebus as it crossed the face of Ix. The big cruiser had blacked out and gone dog zebra as it stalked Corvus through the rings circling the dwarf star. He hoped that Nyrkki’s jury-rigged thrusters were as invisible to the enemy’s sensors as he claimed.
Gus asked, “You about ready Drake?”
Drake said, full of bravado. “What could possibly go wrong with this plan.”
Lenore said from the fighter’s second seat. “You mean other than you go sailing off into Ix’s gravity well?”
He replied, “Umm, trying not to entertain that possibility.”
The cruiser was ghosting along, listening with its passive array. Gus shifted the ship again to line up for the shot. This is the craziest plan ever! “Okay Sheridan, you loaded?” A BUG was too big to maneuver inside the cone, so they had opted for a sled ride.
“Yep, the catapult is charged.”
“Remember, don’t use your thrusters unless you have to. They will definitely give away your position.”
“Yessss, Dad.”
Lenore said, “Good luck to you, Mr. Sheridan.”
Gus looked over his shoulder at Lenore. “Don’t know why I’m nervous, Sheridan is the one strapped to a bomb and launching himself at an enemy cruiser.”
A shudder rippled through the small ship as Drake tripped the catapult. Another one of Nyrkki’s mad scientist contraptions, a gas-driven piston, pushed the sled, sort of like an old aircraft carrier launcher, so it wouldn’t have an energy signature. A carbonado fairing hid his body heat.
The plan was simple. Drake would glide over and attach a charge inside the primary drive, then thrust off. When he was clear, he would send a signal. Gus would light off the Strap’s drive to make the cruiser think he was making a run for it. When Erebus fired up their engine, the device would trigger and knock them dead in space. It should look like a catastrophic drive failure. Gus would pick up Sheridan and rendezvous with Corvus so they could slip away, leaving Grey adrift. “Easy peasy!”
Nan hadn’t liked the idea. “The more moving parts a plan has, the more likely it is to fall apart,” she warned. But Drake thought it would work, and he was the one with his ass in the sled.
Gus relaxed his death grip on the ship’s control yoke. The environmental unit on his suit was working overtime to keep the helmet from fogging.
Gus asked, “Shouldn’t he be there by now?”
Lenore answered, “We should be able to see a thermal shadow just about now.”
“Yeah, there he is.”
The sled rotated for braking, the trickiest part of the maneuver. He needed to make soft contact inside the drive cone. Gus lost sight of the sled as the cone swallowed it.
Drake had completed the spin that lined him up with the ship’s engines. Not the most reassuring view, sailing directly into the mouth of a fusion drive, he thought. I hope Gus is right about this being a blind spot, otherwise things are going to get interesting fast.
Drake decelerated. The sled was using compressed gas thrusters to minimize emissions. The main fusion drive cone was easily fifty meters in diameter. Alright, they definitely can’t see me now, as he entered the cone. He maneuvered the sled to one side and began looking for the laser fusion initiation relay. Got ya! His HUD lit up a target point.
He reached the relay, unstrapped, and attached an adhesive gecko anchor to the cone to hold the sled. Gotta hurry, The Skipper is gonna be getting worried. Drake easily shifted the bomb into position and fastened it in place with more gecko anchors. These are so much better than mag clamps. Another Imperial wonder we lost in the Isolation.
He climbed back aboard the sled, cast off the anchor, and hit his thruster to maximum. I’m good as long as I cut the thrust before I exit the drive cone. At least that’s what Gus had assured him, but he took off with a hard jerk! Drake complained, “Ow, that’s some thrust. Damn Nyrkki you coulda warned a guy,” to the endless reaches of space. Free fall returned as he cut the thrust and shot out into the Void.
He checked his relative speed and course to Gus and Lenore’s fighter. The sled was running at 123 kph, bearing 045, position angle 050 dorsal. He looked back at Erebus. Man, I want to be well clear of that beastie when I signal, just in case this doesn’t work. Don’t want to be the marshmallow that fell into the campfire. He checked everything one last time and triggered his pulse beacon.
Nan paced the bridge of the Corvus, staring at the forward screen. “Still nothing?”
The screen showed the encrypted tight beam feed from a drone that Gus had left on his screening asteroid.
HAM answered from the Operations console, “No Gunner, I have received no transmissions.”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve what, Corvus?” Nan asked.
HAM answered, “You have asked twelve times about transmissions. We have a pool.”
Nan shook her head. “You have a pool? A betting pool? On how many times I ask about the Skipper.”
HAM said, “Correct, I used your psychological profile, observed physical reactions around the Captain, and estimated mission time to calculate my bet.”
“HAM, that is some kind of fucked up,” Nan said.
Zia looked up from the Pilot console. “That’s what I told him.”
“You knew about this? Who all is in this pool, anyway?”
“I,”
Nyrkki answered from the Engineering Control Center, “Me too.”
Zia shrugged and said, “Nan, you know I can’t resist a bet.”
HAM said, “Myself; also, Lenore placed a wager before she left on the mission.”
Nan looked over at Pela, at Weapons Targeting. “Well, at least you didn’t bet against me.”
Pela mumbled, “I’m already eliminated.”
“Bunch of assholes.”
HAM cocked his head, “Gunner, I did not know that a collection of assholes was denominated as a bunch. I will make a note.”
Zia couldn’t contain herself as the bridge erupted in laughter. “Man, that is classic HAM.”
HAM looked around at the group. “I do not understand, was that humorous?” They all cracked up again.
“Contact.”
“Yes, I have received the burst transmission from Mr. Sheridan,” HAM said as he manipulated his console. “I am calculating his position at this time.”
Aboard the fighter, Lenore looked down at the comm direction finder. “Captain, we have received Mr. Sheridan's signal. The DF indicates he is well clear of the Erebus.”
“About damn time! Did he stop for lunch in there?” Gus had already aligned the fighter to make sure his drive pointed directly at the enemy sensors. He didn’t want them to miss him. Damn Ops puke might be asleep for all I know. He keyed the comm to wide band clear, “Hey Hazy! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” followed up with a cackling laugh as he fired the Strap’s fusion drive. “Hang on Lenore, here we go!”
He could feel his suit compress as the gees slammed him into the seat.
Nan said, “HAM zoom in on Erebus. I want to watch the fireworks. There goes the Skipper’s drive.” The flare from the Strap’s fusion drive was a blue torch against the stars.
The screen magnified and the Bridge crew of Corvus wat
ched their plan evaporate. A door opened on the hull of Erebus and it belched out three Strap fighters, then four torpedoes launched from the forward tubes.
Nan could only say, “Well shit!”
Gus yelled when he saw the fighters launch and torpedoes pop, “You gotta be kidding me?” He spun the ship one eighty and pushed the drive to maximum.
Lenore spoke gently, “Captain, you are not medically cleared for extended high gravity acceleration.”
“Override all safety protocols for the duration of this mission. Authorization: Skipper W4.”
Lenore said, “Aye, Aye Sir. I am detecting four torpedoes. Also, the enemy cruiser has launched three fighters.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Strap up, things just got hairy! Launch Wingman,” Gus said.
“Drones away,” Lenore confirmed. “Wings one through four operational and standing by.”
Gus cut the engine. “Wings one and two engage torpedoes. Lenore deploy decoy, course bearing 180, ventral 090.” Gus watched the decoy drive fire up and streak away.
“Now let’s see how good this stealth hull really is.” Gus said as he rolled the ship directly at the approaching fighters and cut the drive to one gee.
Lenore said, “Skipper, I must warn you that the distance to the approaching enemy is decreasing quickly.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Captain, are you sure this course of action is wise?” Lenore sounded worried.
Gus replied, “Nope. How are the Wingmen doing?”
Lenore checked her screens, “W-1 and W-2 are engaging torpedoes now. We shall know if they are successful in a moment.”
Gus saw tracers stitching across the black and two brief flares. “W-1 and W-2 have destroyed their targets. The other torpedoes are chasing our decoy,” Lenore said. He saw two flashes on the decoy.
Lenore confirmed, “The remaining torpedoes have destroyed our decoy.”
“Good,” Gus said. He used the gyros to rotate the ship ninety degrees and fired one long burn on the main drive. Wingmen drones W-3 and W-4 followed. “Have W-1 and W-2 hold position running dark.”
Gus zeroed the thrust and enjoyed free fall on his aching chest. “Bandit data?”
“Enemy is ventral 135, range 200 kilometers, speed 38000 kph. They will pass our position in 19 seconds. Clever move, Skipper,” Lenore answered. “Hiding inside our own drive wake.”
Gus grinned, “Thanks. What is the closest point of approach?”
Lenore said, “Calculating. CPA is five kilometers and increasing.”
Gus pulsed the CP thrusters. “Rig for silent running.”
One green light blinked on his HUD.
Now we wait.
On board Erebus, Captain Harrison Grey was still smarting from Gus’s taunts. “Operations, report!”
The frazzled Ops officer said, “They intercepted two torpedoes; however, it looks like the other two have destroyed the target.”
“That was too easy. Have a fighter scout the wreckage. I want the other two to start an expanding search pattern beginning at the target’s last course correction,” Grey said. “I know you are out there Johansson and I’m gonna find you!”
“Sir,” Meza asked, “What is your plan?”
“That drive signature we jumped was too small to be Johannson’s ship, probably one of his small boats on a recon of our position. I think that boat is still out there hiding dark. If we can knock it out and hold it hostage, they will come to the rescue. Keep a breaching craft and a boarding party in a GQ rotation. As soon as we have a shot, I want that tugs drive knocked out and the boarding party away. Johansson’s ship will be taken intact, is that clear?”
Meza, still smarting over being relieved, answered with ice, “Crystal.”
Nan felt her stomach drop and stood helpless. “HAM replay and analyze what we just saw.”
The bot punched the Ops console and the forward screen displayed Gus’s drones streaking toward two torpedoes, and two bright brief flashes lit the screen.
Then they saw two more flashes as the remaining torpedoes found a mark.
HAM began, “The first two torpedoes were destroyed by the Captain’s drones. The remaining torpedoes were fooled by a drive decoy. I cannot locate the Captain’s ship, but I believe he is once again running dark.”
A surge of relief ran through the bridge crew. Zia said, “I knew they couldn’t catch that old fox so easy. It wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t land on Erebus herself and knock on the airlock just to rub Grey’s nose in it.”
Nan said, “That would be something Gus would do.”
Pela looked up from the Weapons Console. “Two fighters are in a search pattern, another is headed to the decoy wreckage.”
Nan said, “HAM, can we get a visual on those fighters?”
“Certainly, Gunner Stanski,” the bot replied, “I will overlay an augment on the view.”
Gus rolled the fighter to get a visual of the action. “Lenore, what have we got out there?”
Lenore answered, “Wingmen W-3 and W-4 are back aboard, W-1 & W-2 are holding dark nearby. It’s too risky to retrieve them now.”
“We need to get those fighters back onboard Erebus, any thoughts Lenore?”
Lenore said, “We should refrain from firing on them. If we can disable the searching fighters, someone will need to tow the others back.”
Gus said, “Good idea! What’s the best way for the drones to knock those hostiles out?”
“The drones can lay EMP mines. We can remotely detonate them. There is an acceptable probability this will knock out the Straps without harming the pilots. I suggest the Wingmen take up a position along the search path using minimum burns. Their positions should remain hidden from the fighters, Captain.”
Gus agreed. “All right, W-1 and W-2, maneuver on low detection burn and launch mines when in position.” His green indicator blinked twice.
“Message received. Now we wait.”
Gus watched the virtual tracking information on the HUD, “Confirm assets in position?”
“Affirmative, in position.”
Gus sweated inside his suit. “Detonate EMP on my mark.” Here goes nothing, “Mark.”
The Bridge crew watched the fighters running the expanding cube pattern that HAM had laid on the screen.
“That pattern will intercept the Skipper soon,” Zia said.
“Don’t count them out yet, I’ve got a feeling there is a plan,” Nan said. “And there it is!” A blue glow danced over the fighters and they went dead.
Pela said, “I am reading the detonation of electromagnetic pulse mines. The fighters are offline.”
Nan laughed, “Ha, I knew it!”
“Captain Grey,” the Ops Officer said, “The two Straps on the search pattern are reporting total systems failure.”
“How the hell do both Straps go down at once?”
The Weapons Console operator said, “I believe they struck an electromagnetic mine, Sir.”
“Johansson, you son of a bitch!” Grey shouted, “Recall the remaining fighter before we lose it too. Launch the BUGs to tow those idiots back here and get them all stowed.” He turned and said, “Meza, it’s a good thing I took command. You obviously have a competency problem on this ship.”
Meza bit his tongue.
Lenore began, “Captain, I confirm that both Straps are dead in space.”
“Yes!” Gus cheered, “Lenore, I could kiss you.”
“That will not be necessary, Captain.” There was a slight quaver in her voice.
Gus didn’t seem to notice. “Any ideas where Drake is?”
“Of course, I used the DF and time dilation data from his pulse transmission to approximate his course and speed. Transferring flight path data to your HUD.”
Gus said, “He is out of the Erebus’s blind spot. Do you think he can match up with this asteroid here?” Gus highlighted a 400-meter rock near Sheridan’s projected path.
Lenore hummed. “Calculating. Yes, with a minimum burn h
e will be able to match. We can try to make contact with a tight-beam transmission.”
Gus nodded. “Alright, let’s see if he’s awake. Knowing him, he probably got bored and fell asleep.” Gus keyed the tight beam burst to the drifting EV Mate, there was no way to get a secure beam back, and he just had to pray that Drake got the word, Hugin and Munin carry my message, the old pagan thought.
Drake Sheridan saw his burst comm blip and opened the message “Kid, this is the Skipper, things are sideways, I need you to hang out for a bit. There is a rock that’s perfect for camping along your path, sending data now. Sit tight.”
Drake said to himself, “Yeah, I noticed that the drive didn’t explode, and you are running for your life.”
He called up the data from Gus’ transmission. “Hmm, should be able to hit that rock, Okay. Might even have time for forty winks while the Skipper plays Hide ’n Seek.” He hummed his tune about Texas as he worked the calculations for matching the asteroid.
On the Corvus HAM asked, “Gunner Stanski, I have received a transmission from the Captain, would you like to hear it?”
“Duh, yes!” she answered.
Gus’s recorded voice played: “Hey guys, looks like Nan was right, the plan is hosed. The trap is set, and we are all Okay, but we still need to spring it. I’m running silent, so it’s up to you now. Johansson out.”
Gus asked, “Do you think they got that Lenore?”
“The beam to the remote was solid. It should be received the next time it is triggered. Mr. Sheridan should also have received his message.”
“So, now we wait.”
Lenore agreed, “Yes, we wait.”
Nan called a meeting in the wardroom. Gus’s chair at the head of the table remained empty. Ophelia floated near the overhead and munched a cookie.
