by G J Ogden
“It always amazes me how quickly they can bang these things back together,” said Banks, who was also inspecting the spruced-up bridge. “The Invictus looks like it’s fresh out of the shipyard.”
“That’s what fifty years of war does for you,” commented Sterling, smiling over at his first officer. “The engineers on the Hammer are some of the best and most experienced in the Fleet. This sort of work is no more taxing to them than tying their bootlaces.”
Sterling advanced and stepped onto his command platform, then caught Lieutenant Shade glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Shade was at her weapons control station, as always. Sterling wondered idly if she’d ever left it. He nodded to Shade to acknowledge his weapons officer and she nodded back respectfully before returning to her work. Jinx the dog then jumped up next to Commander Banks at her station and let out a contented “yip”. The sound almost caused Shade to jump out of her skin. The weapons officer reached for her sidearm and spun on her heels, aiming the pistol at the dog, before stopping herself and doing a double-take.
“Don’t ask,” said Sterling, as Shade’s confused eyes met his own.
“Aye, Captain…” replied Shade after the shock of seeing a dog on the bridge had subsided. She holstered her weapon and scrutinized the miniature intruder for a few more seconds before returning to her work.
Sterling smiled as he glanced over to Ensign Keller who was also at his station. Sterling could see from his captain’s console that the helmsman was busy finishing off a diagnostic to recalibrate the helm controls. This had been necessary because of a much-needed engine tune-up that the Hammer’s repair crews had performed while they had been docked to the mighty Dreadnaught. Sterling allowed the ensign to finish, considering that it may well be the last opportunity they would have for some time to perform routine maintenance. There were no advanced repair facilities in the Void, and the few adequate facilities that did exist would likely not welcome a Fleet warship into their dock.
“How is it coming along, Ensign?” asked Sterling, drawing the gaze of his pilot.
“Almost done, sir,” replied Keller, the tone of his voice sounding almost as breezy as their ship’s quirky gen-fourteen AI. Sterling wondered what had caused the ensign to be in such a chipper mood when he noticed the glint of metal just beneath the collar of Keller’s tunic.
“How are you feeling, Ensign?” Sterling asked, remembering that his pilot had been officially dead only a few days ago. Commander Graves had managed to resuscitate the ensign then replace several organs, as well as his sternum and half of his ribs with technological substitutes. The fact that these cybernetic enhancements were highly-experimental and entirely illegal hadn’t bothered Sterling in the slightest. All he cared about was that his ensign was alive and ready to resume his duties.
“I feel amazing, Captain,” beamed Keller. “Though Commander Graves said that might be the result of all the drugs I’m taking.”
Sterling suddenly felt a familiar neural link form in his mind. He accepted it and prepared for the inevitable snarky or sarcastic comment that he was sure would follow.
“That’s just great… Our pilot is as high as a kite,” said Commander Banks through the link. She was looking at him out of the corner of her eye from her station beside Sterling’s. “Are you sure you still want him at the helm?”
“I’d trust a spaced-out Keller more than almost any other pilot,” Sterling replied, smiling over at his first officer.
“It’s your funeral,” Banks replied. Then she frowned. “No, wait, it'll be mine too…”
Sterling huffed a laugh, glad that his first officer was also in high spirits, though he guessed that this was largely due to her new furry companion. He closed the link then returned his attention to his helmsman.
“I take it that you’re up for some more daredevil piloting then, Ensign?” Sterling said to Keller.
“Of course, sir,” the ensign replied, still with a carefree nonchalance to his speech and mannerisms. “I’ll be finished long before we’re scheduled to depart the Hammer.”
“Change of plans, Ensign,” replied Sterling, more sternly. “We’re leaving now.”
This statement caused the helmsman to stop work and spin his chair around to face Sterling.
“As in right now?” asked Keller, raising an eyebrow.
“Is there another now that I should be aware of, Ensign?” Sterling replied, his answer causing a corner of Banks’ mouth to curl up.
“No, sir,” replied Keller, smartly. The ensign then spun his chair back to his helm controls, looking a little red-faced, but no less jaunty.
“All the crew is on board, sir,” said Commander Banks, this time speaking out loud. “We’re light on numbers, though. Fifty-four in all, including twenty commandoes. We weren’t scheduled to get replacements until we docked at F-COP.”
Sterling sighed. “It will have to do, Commander,” he replied, wearily. “What about the status of the ship? Were the Hammer’s engineers able to finish the repairs that were initiated at G-COP?”
Banks worked her console for a few seconds then half-nodded, half-shrugged. “Yes and no,” she began. Sterling saw the status report flash up on his console then Banks skipped across to join him at his station. “The important systems are all back online. Weapons, engines, armor…” Banks went on, tapping her finger on the various systems while she talked. “But several crew sections are still out of action and parts of engineering look like a building site. The former isn’t really a problem, considering we have fewer crew than usual.”
Sterling nodded. “So long as we’re fighting fit, it doesn’t matter if we still look a little beat up in places,” he replied. He scanned the ship’s stores and his brow furrowed. “This might be a problem, though,” he said, enlarging the readout so that Banks could also see it.
“Ah, crap,” replied Banks before also letting out a weary sigh. The first officer glanced up from the screen and met Sterling’s eyes. “We’re light on food packs, water and parts. We can’t requisition them from the Hammer, since they know we’re getting resupplied at F-COP. That means we’ll have to stop in the Void to re-supply.”
“More importantly, we’re not carrying enough fuel to make it to the Void and back,” Sterling added. “We can go on rations and try to fabricate any parts we might need in the workshop, but fuel we can’t magic out of nothing.” Sterling noticed that Banks was looking at him like he’d just spat on her shoe.
“Go on rations?” Banks repeated, sounding utterly appalled at the suggestion.
“I’m sure you can manage for a few days,” replied Sterling, shaking his head. Jinx yipped and made a strange growling sound.
“See, our new acting ensign agrees with me,” said Banks, pointing to the beagle hound.
“The dog doesn’t get a vote,” Sterling hit back. “Neither do you for that matter,” he added, unsympathetically.
“Fine, but I should warn you that I can get pretty grouchy when I’m hungry,” said Banks.
“Noted, Commander,” replied Sterling, remaining blithely indifferent to his first officer’s plight. “We’ll find somewhere to take on supplies as soon as we’re into the Void,” he continued, clearing his console. “First, we actually have to get through the aperture with half of the Fleet and the Hammer standing guard.
“Diagnostics complete!” Keller announced. The ship’s helmsman still sounded annoyingly chipper. “Lieutenant Razor reports that engines are ready. We’re standing by to detach from the Hammer. I’ve locked in a course to the F-sector aperture and can engage as soon as we’re clear.”
“Belay that, Ensign,” Sterling called out, causing the ensign and Lieutenant Shade to stop what they were doing and become alert. “We’re not going to F-COP, anymore,” Sterling added. The expression on his helmsman’s face suggested that his statement had come across sounding more foreboding than he’d intended it to. Shade, however, simply stared back at her Captain with blank, unreadable eyes.
“W
here are we going, sir?” Keller finally plucked up the courage to ask.
“We have new Omega Directive orders, which means we’re going back into the Void, Ensign,” Sterling answered, confidently. “Unfortunately, the other Fleet ships in the sector don’t know this, so I’m going to be in need of your talent for creative flying once again.”
Ensign Keller’s eyes grew wide, but then to Sterling’s surprise the pilot smiled. “I never liked F-COP anyway, sir,” Keller said, with a hint of rebellion. “Setting a new course now.”
“Here we go again,” said Banks, smiling at Sterling then hopping back across to her own station.
“Here we go again,” repeated Sterling, though he muttered the words under his breath.
Sterling turned back to Ensign Keller, who was still eagerly awaiting his command. A sudden silence fell over the bridge with only the familiar thrum of the ship’s engines as a backdrop. It was like the distant rumble of thunder that suggested a storm was on the horizon. Sterling leaned forward and gripped the sides of his console. His fingers slid into the familiar grooves that he’d worn down over the last year of commanding the vessel. He sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly.
“Take us out, Ensign,” Sterling said to his pilot. “And prepare to run like hell on my order.”
Chapter 2
The courage to act
Sterling’s hands didn’t leave the sides of his console for the next ten minutes, nor did his eyes leave the viewscreen. Dozens of Fleet ships continued to buzz around the sector on regular patrol routes, many flying so close he could read the serial numbers on their hulls. Every chime from Sterling’s console sent his pulse racing, expecting it to be from a warship demanding to know why the Invictus was heading for the aperture. So far, though, no-one had challenged their progress toward the inter-stellar gateway.
Ahead of him on the viewscreen, Sterling watched the flashing beacons that surrounded the aperture grow larger and brighter. However, the beacons were not the only objects close to the perimeter of the gateway. Dozens of Fleet warships were also watchfully guarding the aperture in case the vanguard of the Sa’Nerran invasion armada decided to surge through and survey the battleground. Suddenly, Banks’ console chimed an alert, causing Sterling’s pulse to spike even higher. He cast his eyes across to his first officer’s station, waiting for her report.
“It’s a message from the Fleet Heavy Destroyer Falchion,” said Banks, peering down at her console screen. “They’re the lead ship in the current taskforce guarding the aperture.”
“Let me guess, they’re warning us to steer clear?” said Sterling.
Banks smiled. “Right first time,” she replied. “They’re being pretty insistent too, and not very polite.”
Lieutenant Shade’s console then chimed an alert and Sterling turned his attention to his weapons officer.
“The Falchion has turned toward us and locked weapons, Captain,” said Shade. Her tone and expression remained level. However, Sterling knew Shade’s tells well enough to see that the destroyer’s brazenness had riled her.
“You’re right, that’s not very polite at all,” said Sterling, glancing back to Banks.
“Should I turn away?” asked Ensign Keller, his voice betraying his unease at the fact one of their own ships had targeted them.
“No, hold your course and keep it nice and steady, Ensign,” replied Sterling, assertively. “But be ready to put on a burst of speed when I give the order.”
“Aye, Captain,” replied Keller, briskly.
“Shall I charge weapons?” asked Shade, sounding eager to match the destroyer’s aggressive stance.
“We do nothing to provoke them, Lieutenant,” replied Sterling, again maintaining an assertive, level tone. “They’re just posturing. The Falchion won’t shoot at us.”
Banks’ console chimed another alert. “Another message from the Falchion, sir,” said the first officer, still focused on her screen. She then looked over to Sterling, eyebrow raised. “It’s Captain Anders and he’s demanding to speak to you.”
“He’s demanding to speak to me?” replied Sterling, with a rising intonation. Banks merely smiled and nodded. Keller and Shade also shot astonished glances in the direction of the captain’s console, clearly eager to see how their captain would respond. “Well, you’d better put him on the viewscreen then,” Sterling finally answered, standing tall and pressing his hands behind his back. The viewscreen changed to show an inset image of the Falchion’s captain in the center. Captain Anders was a tall, thin man, with straw-like yellow hair, cut-razor close along the temples so that it looked like a bird’s nest had been placed on his head. The yellow stripe across Anders’ tunic denoted that the officer served in the Second Fleet, under Admiral Grayson. Their usual domain was D-sector, which had largely kept them out of front-line action in the more recent years of the war. Anders, however, was a veteran who had seen plenty of combat.
“Captain Sterling, are your systems malfunctioning?” asked Anders, peering down his nose at Sterling.
Sterling saw Banks wince out of the corner of his eye. The condescending and snooty manner in which the question had been asked was exactly the sort of attitude that got Sterling’s goat.
“No, Captain Anders, our systems are working just fine, thank you for asking,” replied Sterling. He’d managed to force his lips into a thin smile, though the act of doing so was already causing his face to ache.
“Then why are you still on course toward the aperture, Captain?” Anders hit back. “I issued clear instructions for you to steer away.”
The captain of the Falchion had switched from condescending to downright disdainful. It was as if the officer were speaking to an insubordinate malcontent, rather than someone of equal rank.
“If that was your question, Captain, then you should have just asked it the first time, rather than play games,” Sterling replied.
Sterling’s veneer of politeness had already cracked. He now wished he’d allowed Shade to charge the weapons so that he could blast a warning shot across the destroyer’s bow. However, he had to remind himself of his own advice, which was to avoid provoking his fellow Fleet officer. Even so, it was clear that Sterling’s snarling response had already caused Captain Anders to bristle and puff out his chest like a strutting pigeon.
“Very well, Captain, since you prefer that we speak plainly,” the officer began, clearly working up to deliver an ultimatum. “Turn away now or I am authorized to fire on your vessel. Our orders are clear. No-one is to enter the Void, not even the fabled ‘Void Recon Unit’.”
The sneering manner in which Anders had said “Void Recon Unit” only served to rile Sterling up even further.
“I realize that the Second Fleet doesn’t see much action in D-sector, Captain,” Sterling replied, giving as good as he got. “But firing on your own side isn’t generally the done thing.” Moments later he kicked himself for rising to the bait.
“From what I hear of your taskforce, Captain, you would know far more about that than I,” Anders hit back.
There was an audible intake of breath from the station beside him. Sterling glanced left and saw that Banks was almost ready to leap at the viewscreen and punch her fist though the image of Captain Anders.
“In any case, there is no need for threats, Captain,” Sterling replied, managing to rein in his own combative tendencies and speak more calmly. “We’re simply running some quick shakedown tests to calibrate our engines after the recent repairs.”
“Calibrate your engines in the other direction, Captain Sterling,” Anders replied. Unlike Sterling, he had made no effort to take a more civil tone. “I will not warn you again.”
The image of Captain Anders on the viewscreen vanished. Sterling allowed his stiff posture to relax, though his heart was thumping hard in his chest. Then he noticed that Ensign Keller had twisted his chair around to face him, awaiting further orders. The young officer still appeared to be full of doubt, but Sterling commended his relatively gr
een pilot for holding his tongue.
“Full power acceleration, Ensign,” Sterling said, feeling his hands again tighten around the sides of his console. “Keep going straight for the Aperture, no matter what that destroyer does.”
“Aye, Captain,” Keller replied, with slightly less assuredness than before.
“You think he’s bluffing?” asked Banks, casting Sterling a quizzical eye.
“I think he’ll try to confirm the order to fire on us before he takes any action,” replied Sterling. “And I’m betting that Admiral Griffin will take her sweet time to answer his call.”
Sterling then felt the kick of the engines push him toward the rear bulkhead before the inertial negation systems adjusted to compensate. The pulse of the engines through of the deck-plating quickly rose as the Invictus powered its way toward the aperture.
“Power surge from the Falchion,” said Banks, raising her own voice above the beat of the engines. “Anders is definitely getting ready to fire.”
“Hold your course, Ensign, and prepare to surge,” Sterling called out, heading off any doubt his helmsman may have had in that moment. He then turned to Lieutenant Shade. “Regenerative armor to maximum, and charge the weapons, just in case,” he said. Shade sprang into action almost before the breath carrying his words had exited Sterling’s lips. His weapons officer had clearly been eagerly awaiting the order to active their own defensive and offensive systems.
“Thirty seconds to the perimeter of the aperture,” Banks called out. “If Anders is going to shoot at us then he’s leaving it to the last minute.”
Sterling didn’t answer and continued to peer out through the viewscreen. Come on, Captain Anders, let’s see if you have to balls to do it… Sterling thought, almost willing his fellow officer to take the shot.
“Ten seconds… I think we’re clear,” announced Banks. “Five seconds…”
