by Jon Gerrard
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m not picking up anything on short range scan,” Alex said as she studied her console. Ship sensors functioned in three modes. A focused scan directed a narrow sensor beam at a specific target and could give finely detailed information about whatever it was focused on. It could tell you the color of a person’s eyes, his body temperature and even how fast his heart was beating from a distance of up to a thousand kilometers. Next was a short range scan which provided a three hundred and sixty degree view around a ship. The amount of detail it provided was not the quite as good as a focused scan, but a short range scan could localize the relative position of anything within a hundred thousand kilometer spherical radius. Then there was a long range scan. This type of scan reached across distances measured in light hours. Although it had the lowest resolution of all types of scans, a long range scan could ‘see’ across an entire star system and identify planets, asteroids and even objects as small as individual ships. Since sensor technology operated on hyperspace frequencies it also meant that real time information was relayed to the system, which was extremely useful for inter stellar navigation–or planning military strategy.
I watched as Alex ran a complete short range sweep a second time. We had to be sure there were no other ships in our vicinity before we went to long range scan. The power needed to send a long range signal would make us stand out on the screen of any ship nearby as clearly as if we had sent out a flash pulse, even if we were running with our stealth system active. Satisfied that there was nothing in our immediate area, Alex changed the sensor settings.
“Going to long range scan.”
We were holding position just beyond the three light minute distance outside the Argo star system. Any closer and we would be within their territorial limits. We had been able to stay outside of Gilead space for most of the journey and away from the regular transit lanes which had helped us to avoid contact with other ships. On the few occasions when we had to pass through an occupied system we’d engaged the stealth system and gone undetected. But even this infrequent use of the stealth system had depleted our fuel. We were now down to less than five percent reserve. Unless we could replenish our store of radioactives we would not be leaving this system. I decided to worry about that later.
“There’s a lot of activity in-system,” Alex said. “The normal Coast Guard presence has been doubled. I’m also reading two groups of larger vessels patrolling the system. Their ID beacons read as Gilead Fleet. From their power signatures I’d say they were battle groups.”
Everyone paused in whatever they were doing and gave Alex their attention. Battle groups meant serious business.
“Give me a tactical view of the system,” I said.
The main screen switched to an ‘overhead’ computer generated view of the planetary system ahead of us, showing each of the seven planets and their orbital tracks around the central star. A single icon at the bottom of the screen indicated our position. Dozens of other icons wove their way through the system, each of these marked as Coast Guard patrol cutters. And making their way slowly around the system were two, tightly packed clusters of icons. While their ID beacons identified them as belonging to the Fleet, they provided no other information about the vessels. We could only judge their identities based on our scans of their overall size and power plant signatures. As I studied the sensor data about those clustered ships I could tell that Alex was right on the nose with her assessment. These were definitely battle groups.
Battle groups were general purpose combat forces composed of ships with complementary abilities. They carried enough muscle to support most offensive or defensive tactical situations, with each class of ship filling a specific combat niche. Each battle group was centered around a carrier which, in addition to its own staggering firepower, had the ability to launch twelve complete fighter squadrons. Each carrier in turn was supported by a pair of long range missile cruisers, four destroyers, two attack subs and six battle frigates. The ships we were tracking fit those profiles perfectly.
A single battle group was more than enough to protect a star system from any threat short of a full scale invasion force but apparently King Sebastian was taking no chances. Prior to the pirate attack on our prison shuttle three and half years ago, the only active patrols in the system had been carried out by the Coast Guard, and those in far less numbers. Now it looked like Sebastian was expecting war.
There was no sound on the bridge aside from the humming of the control consoles as everyone stared at the display. I flicked a glance at Captain Saha who was standing beside my command seat. He had gotten over his anger with me, for the most part, and we had been civil toward each other during the journey. I studied him briefly from the corner of my eyes as he stood watching the screen but I couldn’t quite read his expression. If I had to guess I would have said that he was as surprised as the rest of us at the show of military might.
“Well, we wouldn’t want it to be too easy now, would we,” Bobby said in an exasperated tone, breaking the silence.
I pulled my attention back to the screen and the lethal obstacle course between us and our goal. The one thing this wasn’t going to be was easy.
“Any indication that we’ve been scanned?” I asked Alex. We had been running with our own ID beacon switched off since Toula and all non essential systems were either shut down or dampened. Even without the stealth system engaged, our ablative coating would make us pretty difficult to spot on a long range scan, especially while we were sitting still.
“Not yet, but there’s a Coast Guard cutter heading this way. It seems to be following a normal patrol pattern, but it’ll be close enough to pick us up on a short range scan within the next twenty minutes.”
I studied the screen for another few moments. There were no good options. Settling myself back into my seat I took one final look at the fuel level. If we were careful, and lucky, we might have just enough of a reserve to make it.
I filled my voice with all of the calm certainty I wasn’t feeling and committed our future to the fates. “Viewer ahead, normal magnification. Engage stealth system. Take us in, slow ahead.”
“Stealth system engaged,” Mark said and nodded to Bobby.
Bobby turned to his console and reached for the controls. “Ahead dead sl–”
At that instant every electronic system on the bridge reverberated with a sudden, deep hum. We’d been flashed by a ship that was impossibly close by.
“Torpedo astern!” Alex shouted over the receding hum.
“Evasive!” I shouted to Bobby, but his hands were already racing across the controls even as I gave the command. I felt the deck vibrate as the engines went to emergency full power and the alert claxon blasted. On the main screen the stars began to slide aside as the ship struggled to turn and accelerate away, but we were coming from a dead stop and I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I slapped open the ship wide comm.
“All hands brace for impact!”
I barely managed to give the warning when a brilliant explosion blossomed on the main screen. The ship shuddered violently, nearly throwing me out of my seat as half of the bridge crew went flying. Main lighting flickered then stabilized.
“Damage report!” I called as I pushed myself back over my armrest.
Chris clawed his way up from the floor and tried to make sense of his board. I could see warning lights flashing across the face of his console as different systems reported their status.
“Impact to A deck, sections five and six! Emergency doors are sealed!”
A cold fist squeezed my stomach. The torpedo had struck the ship just forward of the command deck ‘sail’. Whoever had fired on us had tried to target the bridge. It was only due to Bobby’s quick reflexes that we had avoided having the ship’s command center torn away. But that didn’t mean we had gotten off lightly.
The brilliant explosion which would have blinded naked eyes had caused the main screen
to blank momentarily. As it cleared I caught a brief image of something spinning away from the ship–a body, arms and legs pinwheeling limply. I clamped down hard on my feelings even as the horror started to register in my mind. I would grieve later, if there was a later.
“Main power is still on-line,” Chris reported as he sorted through the system displays on his board. “Life support and drive systems are intact. Power loss on A deck forward of–”
“Intermittent sensor contact astern!” Alex called out.
I spun to Mark. “Can you get a weapon lock?”
Mark was frowning at his console as he tried to lock on to the signal. “No! It’s too faint!” He met my eyes. “It has to be another sub!”
The bastard who had attacked us near Toula was back. I knew in my gut it was him. Somehow he had trailed us across six sectors and into Gilead space. I also knew that the torpedo hit we took would have us lit up on his weapons board like a flare at night, giving him an exact fix on our position–and he was closing in for the kill. If I didn’t do something in the next few seconds he was going to send another one right up our ass and finish us. Fortunately I had been keeping all weapon systems on standby alert.
“Fire aft torpedo!” We probably wouldn’t hit him but I’d bet we could make him move.
Mark stabbed at his console. “Torpedo away!”
“Getting another sensor return now,” Alex reported almost at once. “It’s reading like a sub-light turn.”
“The torpedo?”
Alex studied her screen and shook her head. “Clean miss.”
The first of the three torpedoes we had for the rear tube was gone. I turned back to Mark. “Flash the area! And be ready to shoot again, we’ll only get one chance at this!”
The low pitched electronic hum reverberated through the bridge. Mark was watching his console intently. Suddenly his fingers began punching instructions into the targeting system.
“Getting a return signal... The other ship is moving off at a high acceleration. I don’t know if the computer can get a firing solution before–”
“Take your best guess and fire!”
Mark input a few last instructions and loosed the weapon.
“Torpedo is tracking,” Mark said as he studied his screen. Several tense seconds ticked away. “Another miss.” Two torpedoes down.
“Take us to a new heading,” I said to Bobby. “If he’s going to come after us again let him search for us.” On the main screen the stars began to slide away to starboard, but slowly, too slowly.
“The helm is ... sluggish,” Bobby reported as he struggled with the controls. “It feels like we’re swimming through syrup.”
That wasn’t good. I turned to my Exec. “Chris, get a report from the repair team as soon as they’ve assessed the damage. I need to know exactly how badly that son of a bitch hurt us.”
“On it.”
“Captain,” Patty called, “that Coast Guard cutter is broadcasting a request for our identification. They must have scanned the explosion.” She paused and pressed one hand to her earphone as she listened to something on the comm set. “They just beamed a hyperchannel signal toward one of the battle groups. It was a coded transmission but if I were them I’d be calling for help.”
A few moments later Alex confirmed her suspicion. “A pair of frigates from the nearest battle group just went hyperlight. Their vector will bring them right to us.”
Damn. “How long?”
“Their current rate of acceleration will put them here in about ... eight minutes.”
“Then we have exactly that long to blow that son of a bitch who’s been hunting us!” I growled through clenched teeth.
“But we can’t track him unless we send out flash pulses,” Chris said. “Given the shape we’re in it’d be suicide to advertise our location like that. We’d never be able to move away before he ranged us and sent torpedoes screaming back at us.”
“Then we’re just going to have to bring him to us on our terms,” I said. I opened an intercom to engineering. Ian answered at once. “Ian, can you rig a remote detonator for that antimatter warhead we have in storage?”
“Aye, sir!”
“Do it and move the weapon to port cargo bay two. You have five minutes.” I closed the circuit and turned back to Chris. “Stand by to open the outer door on port bay two.”
“Very clever, Captain,” Saha said. “But how are you going to lure him into your trap?”
I allowed a brief, wolfish grin to curl my lips. “Blood in the water, Captain.” I turned to Mark. “I need you to reduce the output on one of the decoy countermeasures to a bare squeak. I want it to read like the engines have taken damage and our drive signature is leaking out through the stealth system. Can you do that?”
The whole purpose of a decoy countermeasure was for it to send out a powerful electronic signal, in effect screaming its head off to attract the attention of an incoming missile or torpedo. They weren’t designed to do what I needed one to do. But if anyone could make it work, it was Mark.
Mark sat tugging his lip for a moment, his eyes unfocused and staring. “I think so. I’ll have to adjust the field coil to–”
“Good. Don’t waste time explaining it to me. Get it done and let me know when you’re ready.”
“Yes, sir!” He was out of his seat and off the bridge like a shot.
“Now we go fishing,” I said to Captain Saha who was regarding me with a mixed expression of confusion and respect.
“I’ve got that updated damage report, Captain,” Chris said. There was something in his voice that made me turn and look at him. “The torpedo tore a five meter hole in our hull across dorsal sections five and six. Power is out in all starboard compartments on A deck forward of those sections. There was also damage to a control relay node. The repair team thinks they can patch in a work around in a few minutes but until they do there’s going to be a delay in helm response.”
“But there’s no damage to the drive system itself.”
“No, sir.” He was having trouble meeting my eyes.
“Chris?”
He shot a quick glance at the comm station then stepped over to my chair and lowered his voice. I could hear the anguish in it as he spoke.
“Initial reports place fourteen people in the affected sections before the emergency bulkhead doors closed. Most of them were off duty crew in their quarters. Some of them might still be alive if they were in their cabins with the doors closed. We won’t know for certain until we can restore power...”
“And?”
“Cordass ... Momma Mary was in the galley getting lunch ready. And the last anyone knew she was baby-sitting Jeremy.”
The bottom fell out of my stomach. The galley was section five. Anyone who was in there when the ship was holed... In my mind’s eye I recalled the image I had seen of the limp figure pinwheeling away from the ship.
I struggled to keep myself from looking in Patty’s direction. “This stays between us for now. Let me know as soon as we get confirmation on exactly who’s missing.” Chris nodded and returned to his post.
Something hard formed deep in my gut. Raw, ugly hatred seethed within me. I clenched the arms of my seat like I was trying to crush them with my bare hands. The commander of that sub had better hope that I only blew his ship. If I ever got my hands on him...
“Captain!” Patty said. “We’re being hailed by the approaching frigates. Well, not us, exactly, but they’re broadcasting to the ‘unidentified sub’ and ordering us to disengage our stealth system.” A red flag immediately went up in my mind. They had come to the conclusion awfully quickly that there was a sub here. So far all they knew for certain was that there had been some type of explosion in the area. That shouldn’t have led them to jump to the conclusion that there was a sub here–unless they were expecting one for some reason.
“No reply,” I said. “Maintain communications silence
, but keep listening and let me know if they have anything else to say.”
“Yes, sir.”
Patty slid her headset back into place as she turned back to her board. I found myself studying her profile as she worked. Her nose, the curve of her forehead–so much like her son. I realized that I was looking forward to the upcoming fight with much more anticipation than I was to having to give her the news that her son had been killed.
Things settled down to tense waiting for the next few minutes. The frigates stopped transmitting their demands for us to reveal ourselves and started scanning in our direction. At their current distance they couldn’t pick us up with their sensors, let alone while we were running with our stealth system engaged. But they weren’t my main concern. We had to take out that sub hunting us before it put another torpedo in our hull.
The waiting was beginning to get to me when Mark finally returned to the bridge. “The countermeasure is ready to go,” he announced with a self assured smile as he resumed his station. “They’ll think we’re trying to limp away with a ruptured resonance chamber.”
“Put yourself down for a bonus,” I told him.
Ian hurried onto the bridge a moment later. He moved to my board and pointed to a pair of lit control studs. “The warhead is all set. Once the weapon is away from the ship press this switch to arm it and this one to detonate it. We need to be at least ten kilometers away if we don’t want to be caught in the blast ourselves.”
I glanced at the clock on my board. It was just then coming up on five minutes since the frigates had been dispatched our way. “Mr. Brunner, there are times when I really think we underestimate you.”
Ian quirked an eyebrow at me. “Someone has to pull our asses out of the fire at times like this.” Without waiting for a response Ian turned and strode from the bridge.
I looked at Mark. “To make this convincing we’re going to have to fake a compartment rupture. Set our last aft torpedo for minimum yield and disengage its drive system. I don’t want that sub to pick up its wake signature.”
Mark adjusted some settings on his board. “Done.”
“Fire.”
Mark fired the weapon and the induction rings in the aft tube pushed the torpedo out of the ship. We were now defenseless from the rear. If this didn’t work and that sub crept up behind us again we would have no way to strike back.
I kept an eye on the chronometer, counting down the seconds to minimum safe distance as the weapon drifted away from our ship under its own momentum.
“Detonate torpedo. Open cargo bay door.”
The explosive decompression in the bay would blow the antimatter warhead out of the ship along with the cargo in the bay. Port bay two was where we carried most of our spare parts and electronic trade goods. The enemy sub should read it as debris from a hull rupture.
I pressed the first switch on my board and activated the warhead. “Launch countermeasure.” Mark tapped the flashing switch on his board and nodded to me. “Okay, Bobby, take us out of the area quietly.”
“Yes, sir, slow ahead,” Bobby said as he got us under way at a crawl.
The frigates would be here in two minutes.
“Anything on sensors?”
Alex watched her board. “I’m only picking up our ‘debris’ field and the decoy.”
“Distance from decoy?”
“Four kilometers and increasing.”
Seconds ticked slowly away as we waited. Behind us the debris field gradually spread out as the decoy moved further away.
“Decoy now at twelve kilometers,” Alex reported. “Debris field seven kilometers astern.” She suddenly frowned at her screen. I knew that look.
“Alex, talk to me.”
“One piece of ‘debris’ just made a sudden change in its trajectory. As if–” she locked eyes with me, “–as if it just bounced off of something.”
Like the hull of a stealthed ship nosing its way through the debris field. If he was tracking us instead of the decoy...
“Flash the area!” I ordered.
A moment later the familiar deep hum resonated from our control systems.
“Contact dead astern!” Alex said. “Return profile suggests ship is reorienting to bear on our position!”
I jammed my finger on the detonate switch and a mule kicked me in the small of my back, hurtling me out of my seat. Around me I heard shouts from all corners of the bridge as control consoles blew out in crackling displays of electrical fireworks. The last thing I saw just before the main lighting went out was the opposite bulkhead rushing toward me.
