Only the Brave (Lincoln's War Book 3)

by Richard Tongue

   “Time to go,” he said.

   “One minute,” she replied, her hands working the controls. “I’ve got to make sure that nobody can interrupt the power grid. There’s still a chance they could stop this little bomb from going off. I don’t want to have gone through all of this for nothing.”

   “We don’t have a minute,” Romano said.

   “Then leave me behind.”

   He paused, grabbed her arm, and pulled her away from the console, throwing her towards the airlock, saying, “That wasn’t a suggestion. You think that shuttle will leave without all of us? We’ve got to get moving, now! The power network will just have to take care of itself.” He reached for Tanaka’s rescue ball, swinging the tether over his shoulder, and kicked out towards the shuttle, Zani belatedly accepting reality and firing her thrusters to nimbly guide her through the gap, out towards the waiting shuttle.

   As Romano pushed outside, an alarm went off, and he saw a cluster of targets diving towards them, stray debris from the battle. He reached for his thruster controls, but before he could activate them, the shuttle fired a long pulse from its lateral jets, sliding in between the debris and the suited trio, the shrapnel hammering into its hull, tearing angry gouges into the metal.

   Zani was quick to the airlock, the outer hatch already sliding open as they approached. Romano carefully pushed Tanaka inside before, with one last look at the station, following into the cabin. Or at least, what was left of it. The ceiling had been caved in by a dozen pieces of shrapnel, the remnants vaporized on the floor. The helm console was intact, but the man sitting at it was not, neatly decapitated by a chunk of debris.

   “He saved our lives,” Romano said. “And he did it on instinct. There wasn’t time for anything else. Poor bastard.” Moving forward, he carefully pulled the corpse from its chair, pushing it gently to the rear of the cabin, then swung into the pilot’s seat. “Lots of error messages, but we don’t have to go far. Main engine is history, but I can probably do this on thrusters.”

   “You’re checked out on this design of shuttle?”

   “I’ve logged some simulator time,” he replied, peering at the navigation computer, the course back to Komarov already on display.

   “How much?”

   “Half an hour,” he said. “Unless you want to try this, just hang on.” He fired the lateral thrusters again, the shuttle gently gliding away from the station, then fired again to turn the shuttle to point at its goal, the smooth lines of the destroyer running into the tangled framework of the hyperdrive core, still plugged into the station. “Take the sensors. If any more debris is on the way, I need to know about it?”

   Shaking her head, she replied, “The console’s smashed, and we don’t have matching interface sockets. You’re going to have to eyeball it. What about the navigation computer?”

   “I’ve got a course plot, but most of the connectors are wrecked. Going over to manual.” He fired a thruster again, guiding them towards Komarov. “How long have we got?”

   “Power buildup will be complete in three and a half minutes. I can’t imagine that they’ll wait any longer than that before departing.” She gestured at the screen, and asked, “Can’t you go any faster?”

   “Maybe, but I don’t know how. Slow and steady’s going to have to win this race. Do they still teach kids about the tortoise and the hare these days?” At her expression, he added, “Never mind. Try your suit sensors. It’d be nice to at least have a reliable range plot.”

   “On it,” she replied. “Two miles on current course. We drifted a little with that first thruster pulse, and the debris gave us quite a bit of extra velocity.”

   “Changing trajectory. Easy does it.” His hands played across the thruster controls, and he forced himself to take it steadily, not to push the unfamiliar controls too hard. He’d never flown this shuttle for real, and with the internal network on the brink of total failure, there were no systems aids operating to smooth his path. He had to fly the shuttle the old fashioned way, by eyeball and instinct, and with the black hole still throwing gravitational obstacles in his path, that was getting tougher by the moment.

   “One mile, closing,” she replied. “I’m not seeing any open docking ports. They’ve got a little damage on this side, maybe some more shrapnel impacts.”

   “Not a problem. There’s no chance in hell I could dock this ship without close-range guidance anyway. Find me an airlock, nice and big. We’ll park alongside and transfer that way. Hopefully someone on the bridge will realize what we’re doing. How long?”

   “Hundred and five seconds,” she said. “Try for Airlock Two. Just behind the bridge, nice and large. If I remember the specifications, it doubles as an access to the cargo bay.”

   “Got it,” he replied, adjusting his course to match, gently tapping the controls to send the shuttle rising over the ship, then firing another brief pulse to turn them around, lining up their airlock with that of Komarov. They were still too far away for the transfer, and sweat built up on his forehead in ever-growing beads as he struggled to spend their remaining seconds well, trying to avoid the potential problems.

   “Outer hatch opening,” Zani said. “I’ve got both of ours open as well. We should be able to jump right across. I’ll get Tanaka.” She paused, then added, “Closing to forty meters.”

   “Go,” Romano said, and without further protest, Zani fired her thrusters, diving through the airlock, towing Tanaka’s rescue ball behind her, careful to avoid snagging on the ripped hull. Romano turned to follow, but before he could reach the airlock, he felt the sickening sensation of a gravitational wave, enough to send him falling away from the ship again, the distance opening from tens to hundreds of meters.

   He lunged back for the controls, slamming his hand on the thrusters to throw him back towards the ship. There was no time for finesse, only for action, and he watched as Komarov grew large in the viewscreen once more. Trusting that his trajectory would throw the shuttle clear of the ship, he dived through the airlock, firing his suit jets for all they were worth, speeding towards the waiting hatch. Inside, he could see Zani waving him forward, an unfamiliar gun in her right hand. She raised the weapon, then fired, unleashing a hundred-meter cable that raced towards him, close enough to his hands for him to snatch it, quickly attaching it to a safety loop.

   As the shuttle fell away to his rear, he let Zani pull him forward, the cable gun tugging him towards the airlock, and he dived right into her, sending them both sprawling, as the outer hatch slid shut behind them, the familiar hiss of atmosphere filling the vacuum.

   “That was too damned close,” he said, looking at Zani. “You could have left me. Nobody would have questioned it.”

   “I would have,” she said. “That’s enough.” Taking off her helmet, she added, “Nice to get some fresh air, anyway.” The inner hatch opened, a pair of white-uniformed medics waiting on the far side.

   “The Lieutenant’s in a bad way,” Romano said. “Serious trauma, and it’s gone untreated for too long. You’d better get him to your surgical bay on the double.”

   “We’ll take care of him, sir,” the nearest medic said. “Commander Flynn’s complements, will you both go up to the bridge?”

   “How long?” Romano asked.

   “Thirty seconds,” Zani said. “Let’s go see how this story ends.”

  Chapter 26

   Flynn sat in the command chair, frowning as he watched the seconds ticking away, knowing that they were running out of time. He looked down at the controls on his armrest, flicking on the communicator, trying to make contact with the docking torus. Behind him, the doors slid open, Romano and Zani stepping out onto the bridge.

   “Glad you could join us,” he said. “Where’s Fedor. He’s needed at the helm.”

   Shaking his head, Romano replied, “He didn’t make it.”

   “Christ,” the flight engineer said. “We don’t have a relief.�
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   “I can handle it,” Zani replied.

   Turning to look at her with a scowl, the engineer replied, “You think we’re going to let some Guilder fly this ship?”

   “I’m a Lieutenant Commander in Lemurian Intelligence, Corporal, and you will mind your station!” she snapped. “That’s a decision for Major Volkov and Commander Flynn. Not you.”

   “Where is Ivan?” Romano asked.

   “Down below. I’m trying to get in contact with him.” Tapping the control again, he said, “Bridge to Docking Torus. Reply at once, reply at once!” Glancing at Romano, he said, “Take over the second command station. Zani, take the helm. You’d better be as good as you say, or we’re as good as dead.”

   “Power system approaching critical charge,” Romano reported, setting into his station. “Twenty seconds, and we’ll be good to go.”

   “Bridge to Docking Torus!” Flynn pressed. “Come in, please!”

   “Volkov to Flynn,” a tired voice replied. The background was laden with the sounds of battle, gunfire echoing from walls, the boom of explosions, the screams of the dying. “We’re cut off. They managed to decoy us forward, away from the airlock, and they’ve got us surrounded. How long before activation?”

   “We can go any time now,” Flynn said. Glancing at Romano, he said, “I’m on my way. Hold position for a few minutes, and I’ll take everyone I’ve got...”

   “We can’t wait,” the engineer protested. “As soon as we hit critical, we lose stability. It’ll go by itself in seconds, no matter what we do up here.” Looking at Flynn, he said, “There’s no time.”

   “I heard that,” Volkov said. “Get this straight. Do everything necessary to protect my ship. There’s no point all of us being stranded here. Besides, this might not actually be the end of the story. That’s not a bomb in the conventional sense. I’m just going to be thrown forward in time, and I’ll have a lot of company.” There was another rattle of gunfire, and he added, “It’s not as if you’ve got anyone to spare on board anyway. Get going, Commander. That’s an order.”

   “Sir,” Zani said, her hands poised over the controls. “I have the explosive bolts engaged, ready for detonation, and our course is set for the gravitational threshold. Have I clearance for departure?” She looked back at him, and pressed, “Commander, it’s time to go.”

   “Initiate detonation sequence,” Flynn ordered with a deep, deep sigh. “Helm, get us the hell out of here. Maximum acceleration. Give it everything we’ve got.”

   With a loud, final report, the explosive bolts fired, separating the ship from the hyperspace core, leaving it attached to the station. The power connectors were glowing, heating rapidly from the overload, and a strange sensation was building in Flynn’s stomach, as though his senses were attempting to warn him of what was to come.

   “Full power, red-lining engines,” she said, frowning. “Lot of damage to the power network. I’m going to have trouble keeping the feed stable as it stands.”

   “Just do everything you can, Commander,” Flynn said. “We’ve got to get to the gravitational threshold before detonation.” Turning to Romano, he added, “Keep an eye on the power core. What about the other ships in the system?”

   “With the exception of Lincoln, all of our ships should be clear before detonation.”

   “How bad is the damage?”

   “I can’t get any telemetry, but she’s got to have a couple of hundred hull breaches, scattered all over the place. She’s building some good acceleration, but with all the damage to her power network, I just don’t see how she can complete a hyperspace jump, even a short one. Helm, is there anything we can do? Can we get close enough for a pickup?”

   “Not without losing too much speed. We’d never get there in time.”

   “Couple of shuttles in range,” Romano reported. “I’m vectoring them in towards us. We’ve still got one docking airlock on the port side.”

   “Make it clear that they’ll have to dock on the first pass, and that the shuttles will have to detach as soon as their passengers are on board. We’ve got no room for baggage.” Looking up at the sensor display, he added, “We’re going pretty close to one of the Guilder ships, Commander.”

   “You wanted best-speed, we’re getting best-speed,” she replied. “We’ll only be in the firing line for a few seconds. Not long enough for anything other than the luckiest of shots. I hope.”

   “Time, Romano?”

   “Five minutes, fifty seconds. If this plot is right, we’ll reach the threshold with all of five seconds to spare. Assuming the power curve holds up.”

   “It will,” the engineer said. “I’m running it on full manual.”

   “Just get us into hyperspace,” Flynn pressed. “Do we have a course?”

   Nodding, Zani said, “One billion miles distant. That’s the best we can do with the power we can build up in the time. We’re just going to have to hope that’s enough.”

   “You think a billion miles might not...”

   “Nobody has ever done anything like this before. We don’t have the first clue what to expect when that bomb goes off.” She rubbed her forehead, wiping away the sweat, and continued, “Just let me focus. I haven’t flown a ship like this for a while.”

   “Status of the Guilder fleet?” Flynn asked, turning to the sensor technician.

   “Scattered all to hell, sir. Everyone who fled before the battle really began is in the gravitational threshold, but none of them have actually jumped to hyperspace yet. I guess they still think this might be some sort of a bluff.”

   “We only wish it was,” Flynn replied. “The rest?”

   “No chance that any of the other ships will make it out of the system in time. Those auxiliaries are slower than hell, sir.” Turning to him, he added, “I’ve completed an analysis of their lifesystem exhausts, and as far as I can tell, all the transports are fully-loaded. At least fifteen thousand people on board.”

   “Good God,” Romano said. “If our intelligence is right, that’s pretty much their entire ground forces contingent. They must have stripped everything bare to put this army together. No chance that they’d ever be able to build another.”

   “Now who’s talking about morality, Lieutenant. Most of those are conscript soldiers. They didn’t have a choice about whether or not to come out here.” Shaking her head, she said, “Engine Three’s running a little hot. I need the power feed adjusted.”

   “On it,” the flight engineer replied. “I’m robbing Peter to pay Paul, Commander. We’ll be dead in space once we complete the jump.”

   “As long as we get away, that doesn’t matter,” Flynn said. He looked up at the station, just a tiny dot on the viewscreen, and sighed. They’d hoped for a clean run. Everything had gone well enough. And now it was all falling apart near the end. Lincoln potentially stranded, crippled and unable to leave the system, Fedor dead, Volkov and the crewmen he’d taken to hold back the Guilder forces abandoned.

   And yet, it was all worth it. No matter what happened now, that bomb was going to detonate, and it was going to take the bulk of the Guilder strike force with it. The war would end, even if he wouldn’t be there to see it. Then he shook his head, and smiled. They’d still be there, almost certainly. Every ship caught in the temporal vortex before had survived the transit, albeit in a damaged state. Though with the black hole boiling beneath them, anything was possible.

   Long ago, he’d read that during the detonation of the first atomic bomb, the scientists were unsure what would actually happen. That some had believed there was a chance that they might destroy the Earth through some unimaginable chain-reaction. Now, for the first time, he know how they had felt, that long-lost day in Alamogordo.

   “First rescue shuttle has docked,” Romano replied. “We’ve picked up four people. Two prisoners, two Guilders. They’re on their way down to the surgical bay for evaluation.”

 
;  “Under guard, I hope,” Flynn said. “What about the second shuttle.”

   “It’s going to be touch and go whether they make it, unless we reduce acceleration.”

   “We don’t dare,” Zani replied. “We’re down to a three-second safety margin.”

   “Hold course,” Flynn said. Looking at Romano, he said, “I hate all of this just as much as you do, but we just don’t have a choice. If we had a chance of rescuing them, I’d happily take it. We don’t.” He paused, then said, “If you can think of some way to get them to us, do it. Maybe you can handshake our systems early.”

   “I’ll try,” Romano said, while Flynn’s eyes drifted onto the trajectory track, willing them to move faster. He looked across at the communications station, the technician attempting to contact the rest of the fleet, trying and failing. The sensor technician turned with a smile, the first he’d seen in some time.

   “Tereskhova just jumped out of the system, sir. As has Santos-Dumont. The rest should be clear any second now.”

   “Thanks, Corporal,” Flynn said. “At least someone gets out to tell the tale. What about the other Guilder ships? Are any of those past the gravitational threshold jumping yet?”

   “They’re just sitting out there, sir.” The technician looked down at his readouts, and added, “I suppose there’s a chance that they’ll have time to make the jump after detonation. We don’t really know what happens when that thing goes off.”

   “Nevertheless,” Flynn said, turning to the communications station. “Sergeant, I want to speak to everyone in the system, right away.”

   “I can’t guarantee they’ll all listen, sir.”

   “I’m not expecting you to. Just set it up so that I can shout good and loud.”

   “Aye, sir,” the technician said. “You’re on, but...”

   “This is Commander Jack Flynn to all ships in local space. In less than two minutes, we will be detonating a temporal displacement device. The final effect is not certain, but what is certain is that any vessel in close proximity will either be destroyed or displaced in space-time. If you can, leave the system at once. If you cannot, secure yourself for extreme stress and turbulence, and secure all bulkheads. You might have a chance. Komarov out.”