Cartwright's Cavaliers (The Revelations Cycle Book 1)

by Mark Wandrey

  The hold came alive with men moving quickly. Those less familiar with orbital operations moved toward their assigned acceleration stations, others helped the logistics staff and the Traveler’s load master make sure all the hundreds of crates and CASPers were secured. At three gravities, even a single hundred-pound crate coming loose could do serious damage to personnel and cargo inside a ship. Jim, feeling like a fifth wheel, headed for the bridge, which was his combat station as commander.

  He’d only been up to the Traveler once, a few days earlier, to do a last-minute inspection and declare the ship operational. Even after his father commissioned Bucephalus, Traveler was still licensed with the Traders’ Guild. She’d been mothballed in orbit because that was the best place to keep her safe and secure, owned and maintained by the family trust, and well out of his mother’s grasp.

  The ship was thirteen hundred feet long – shaped like a truncated barbell with cylindrical hulls extending out from both ends. One narrowed to a dull point; the other flared a bit into a fan shape, where the ship’s propulsion sat. The bulges of the barbell were the ship’s two gravity decks. As a warship, it had held a massive armament, multiple drone decks, and a crew complement in excess of a thousand. As the Cavaliers’ mercenary cruiser, most of the armament was gone along with all the drones. It was designed now to service a complement of up to four platoons, or two company-sized ground assault units. It operated with a crew of only fifty-two; not having to wrangle dozens of weapons systems and space combat drones helped.

  The bridge was at the center of the ship, as with all warships, surrounded by the heaviest bulk of the vessel; decks upon decks of super tough alloys stood between the bridge and any enemy’s weapons. Many aliens ignored gravity in their warship designs, but humans preferred to operate within a fixed frame of reference. The bridge was designed such that thrust-created gravity provided the crew with a point of orientation. Whenever the ship was under thrust, they knew their feet were always toward the rear of the ship.

  Captain Winslow sat in the command chair, an array of Tri-V displays circling him at eye level. On the screens, he could see everything about the ship’s operation as well as the course and nearby battlespace. The bridge crew were spread out in equally ergonomic workstations, mostly virtual like the captain’s. Hard screens were folded into recesses, should damage or other problems require their use. The bridge crew was the only part of the ship’s complement which was larger now, instead of smaller.

  “Attention all hands, thrust begins in one minute. One minute.”

  “How’s Traveler, Captain?” Jim asked as he took one of the open seats to the side of the captain’s.

  “All systems nominal, sir,” Winslow replied. “Fuel reserves are sufficient for this increased delta-v.”

  “Very good,” Jim said and set his safety harness. A moment later Hargrave came in and hurried to take the seat next to him.

  “We’re secured in the landing bay,” Hargrave said. “All troopers and support are reporting in,” he added as a screen came up showing crew status.

  “Attention all hands, thrust begins in ten seconds.” The computer pivoted their seats back to nearly perpendicular with the deck. “Thrust begins,” the computer said, and it did.

  The trip took three jumps total to reach the Kash-Kah system. Traveler had good legs, as Captain Winslow described it. They made two completed jumps before needing to stop at a station and refuel.

  “We have thousands of hours’ worth of F11,” Winslow explained. “The reactor was flushed right before she was put to bed.”

  “More planning?” Jim asked Hargrave, who just smiled.

  The captain took a little more time in the intervening system, preferring to accelerate at zero point eight from the arrival spot to the stargate. It allowed the crew to enjoy gravity and keep in top readiness for their arrival. When they stopped just before the final jump to refuel, no shore leave was granted.

  “Keep them fresh,” Hargrave advised. “That jump is 170 hours, but it’ll go fast as we begin to prepare for deployment. We’ve had an update from the Duplato, and we know they haven’t been hit in a while. We don’t know what to expect.” Jim considered Hargrave’s advice well worth taking. There were no complaints from the men.

  Once they were refueled and back in hyperspace, the ship and crew began preparation for combat in earnest. All the CASPers were gone over in detail, their operators doing final checkouts. Jim got another chance to watch Adayn Christopher working on the suits. She had a team of ten but seemed to always be in the middle of everything – standing at a testing station, running for a part, or hip deep in a suit checking some function or another.

  Jim had a few minutes in his own suit, being extremely careful with his movements as he walked it into Phoenix 1 in preparation for deployment. Once they were all safely in their mounts inside dropships, the ordinance teams went to work arming the suits. Each suit was equipped with their designated weaponry – lasers, rockets, area denial explosives, or magnetic accelerator cannons. Some carried multiple weapons. Murdock’s CASPer fairly bristled with firepower, as did Buddha’s and Sergeant Rodriguez’s. As the Traveler approached Kash-Kah, all work came to a stop.

  “All crew to combat stations,” the computer announced as the lighting took on a red tinge and a claxon sounded three times. “All crew to combat stations. Hyperspace emergence in five minutes.” Jim buckled into his seat on the bridge, his pulse pounding in his ear and sweat breaking out on his forehead.

  “Everyone ready?” Captain Winslow asked as he constantly scanned status screens. “Report.”

  “Shields ready.”

  “Weapons ready.”

  “Tactical ready.”

  “Navigation ready.”

  “Engineering ready.”

  “Troopers ready,” Jim called out last.

  “Very good,” the captain said. “Emergence in five...four...ready...steady...” There was an instant of distortion and the stars popped back into view on the wrap-around displays.

  “Clean emergence,” Navigation announced, “position is nominal.” They’d arrived where they were supposed to be.

  “Very good,” Captain Winslow said. “Helm, set course for Kash-Kah Four, one gravity constant.”

  “We have a bogey in our threat bubble!” Tactical called out. A large Tri-V display oriented in front of the captain came alive with a 3-D representation of space around Traveler. Kash-Kah Three was on one extreme edge while a few larger asteroids were in the intermediate range, still within L2, which was that system’s emergence point. There was a flashing red point near the closest asteroid.

  “What do we have?” Captain Winslow asked.

  “Working it,” Tactical announced. Jim could see the team of three bridge crew members manipulating sensor data trying to identify the bogey.

  “It’s moving,” Jim noted to Hargrave sitting next to him. The older man nodded and tightened his restraints. “Maybe it’s a local asteroid miner?” Hargrave shook his head no.

  “The locals don’t possess any type of spacecraft,” Hargrave said.

  “The bogey is accelerating,” Tactical confirmed. “Approximately nine gravities.”

  “Oh, shit,” Jim hissed.

  “Prepare for combat,” Captain Winslow said. “Helm, reverse our course, match their approach. Engineering, full power to the reactor. Shields, forward shields at maximum. Weapons, load the tubes for anti-missile fire.” All the bridge stations burst into action.

  “The contact is splitting,” Tactical said. “Designating Bogeys 1, 2, 3, and 4. They are at 1.4 light seconds and accelerating toward intercept.”

  “Acknowledged,” Captain Winslow said. “We have four bogies on the board. Transmit in the clear, please.” He waited a moment for the radio to be engaged. “This is EMS Traveler, in the Kash-Kah system on a sanctioned contract. Unidentified craft, kindly identify.” Seconds passed as the distance closed faster and faster. “EMS Traveler here, if you do not state your non-hostile
intentions, we will deploy defensive tactics.”

  “Is this smart?” Jim asked. “They’re closing fast!”

  “It’s standard procedure,” Hargrave replied. “You can’t just light someone up if they fly at you.”

  “Earth vessel,” a translated voice rang out on the bridge, “you will deactivate your defensive systems and prepare to surrender your craft.”

  “Identify yourself or be declared hostile,” Captain Winslow insisted. “This is your last warning.”

  “Distance 1 light second,” Tactical said. “Bogeys 3 and 4 are maneuvering radically.”

  “I’m declaring these as valid combat targets,” Captain Winslow said. “Enter it in the log, please.”

  “Logged,” the computer automatically responded.

  “Very well,” he said. “Tactical, prepare a firing solution. Charge main particle cannon. Helm, prepare for combat maneuvers. Get the ship ready for incoming.”

  “Attention,” the speakers boomed. “All stations set Condition ZEBRA!” Throughout the ship, all the air-tight doors slid closed, minimizing potential damage if the hull was pierced. “All hands, prepare for possible radical acceleration.” Jim’s seat angled back slightly, and he felt pads raise along his arms, legs, and chest.

  “Hang on, son,” Hargrave said.

  “What can a ship this size do against ships that small and fast?” he asked.

  “Watch,” Hargrave said.

  “Tactical has a solution.” Up on the board, the four enemies approaching grew flashing blue cones ahead of them, and yellow dotted lines within the cones.

  “Blue is their possible maneuvers based on data we have,” Hargrave explained. “Yellow is the predicted course.” The two bogeys that had split off showed blue cones that enveloped Traveler, but yellow dots that passed by. The two still coming straight at them had huge blue cones covering half the sky, and yellow dots that also passed close by.

  “We believe they’re going for a maximum-closing-speed pass to use velocity bombs,” Tactical advised.

  “Thank you,” the captain said. “Weapons, firing range?”

  “Ten seconds,” the Chief Weapons Officer said. “Charged and standing by.”

  “How long can they handle that kind of acceleration?” Jim wondered. Nine gravities? That was insane.

  “Humans, not long. Some aliens, no problem all day.” As the seconds ticked by, the blue cones and yellow dots made minor adjustments. When it was one second from the main battery range, the two targets coming straight at them suddenly exploded into a hundred targets.

  “They’re jamming,” Tactical announced.

  “Confirmation yet on the bogey classification?”

  “Still working,” Tactical replied. A moment later. “Missile launch detected!” A pair of tiny flashing red points lanced away from the interference around the two coming at them.

  “Launch anti-missiles,” the captain ordered. Tiny bumps reverberated through the hull as anti-missile missiles were launched. On the board, four green dots reached out from the Traveler toward the incoming red dots. Jim watched with wide eyes as the two marks came abreast, and each of their missiles flashed. It only took a moment, and all the enemy missiles were gone.

  “We have laser impacts on the forward shields,” Shields announced. “Estimated twenty-megawatt yield.”

  “Update on aggressors,” Tactical announced immediately. “They are Zuul Type Two corvettes. Estimate has high confidence.” A Tri-V showed the probable ships: cylindrical pods with stubby wings and missile bays. Fast and deadly looking. A list to the side showed capabilities including ECM, electronic countermeasures jamming, maximum ten gravities acceleration, missile bays with five ship-killers each, and a single dorsal-mounted twenty-megawatt laser.

  “Thank you,” the captain said. “Reload tubes two and four with ship-killers. Let’s drop their numbers, shall we? Helm, skew turn to bring main batteries to bear on Bogey 4. Weapons, fire as we come to bear.”

  A klaxon sounded a warning and suddenly Jim squeaked in surprise as more than five gravities slammed him down and sideways. Traveler danced sideways in a maneuver far in excess of its initial design parameters. The engineers with Cartwright’s Cavaliers, upon taking possession of the ship, had stripped off all offensive weaponry. The much lighter ship was then able to be fitted with structural reinforcements and engine improvements.

  “Firing!” The lights dimmed as ten gigawatts of energy poured from one of the ship’s two main particle accelerator turrets. “Slam dunk,” Weapons called. Bogey four flashed out into a cone of expanding debris.

  “Good kill. Fire missiles on Bogey 3.”

  “Birds away,” Weapons announced. Again, green dots flashed away from Traveler toward Bogey 3 which began to spin and evade at the maximum ten Gs. Traveler’s forward shields recognized hit after hit from the two other corvettes that were all but invisible at the moment. The hits were insignificant; the ship could absorb hundreds of such shots.

  “Alter orientation to Bogeys 1 and 2,” the captain ordered and Jim gritted his teeth as Traveler once again spun and thrust at full power, coming around almost 180 degrees end-over-end. The missile flashed, and another bogey disappeared.

  “Grand slam with birds,” Weapons said.

  “Very good,” Captain Winslow said, “Get a seeker in the black so we can get a weapons lock on Bogeys 1 and 2.”

  “Seeker away,” Tactical said.

  “Sensor drone,” Hargrave told Jim. As the little dot of the seeker raced toward the uncertainty of the jamming, false readings began to disappear one after another until good data was left.

  “Missiles inbound,” Tactical announced. “Tracking 8 inbound missiles.”

  “Bollocks,” the captain cursed. “Fire what anti-missiles we have, and prepare for impact.”

  “We’ve resolved Bogeys 1 and 2,” Tactical announced. “Main batteries are almost to bearing.”

  “Abort shot,” the captain said, “maneuver to evade incoming missile tracks.”

  Once more, the warning klaxon sounded, and the Traveler danced on her tail in a change of delta-v only a ship one quarter her size should have been able to accomplish. Jim gritted his teeth as nearly six gravities crushed his body into the acceleration couch. Around them, the ship moaned like the bones of an ancient dragon awakening to find its treasure had been pillaged.

  “Two, no three incoming missiles intercepted!” Tactical gasped between gulps of air. Jim tried to look around, but his head had sunk half a foot into the liquid padding of the chair. All he could see was the main situation board that showed five nuclear missiles still streaking toward them. “Point defenses are engaging!” Small one-megawatt lasers mounted all around the hull pulsed like machineguns in a last-ditch defense to destroy or disable the missiles before they could detonate. “Three have stopped tracking, two are still live.”

  “Brace for impact!” Captain Winslow said. The ship gave one more sudden roll and thrust. An instant later one of the missiles splashed against the shields without detonating. The eighth (and final) missile, however, turned into a miniature sun as it passed close aboard the cruiser. Although it didn't hit the ship, the cruiser was close enough to be within the blast radius of the missile, and Jim could have sworn he saw the flash through the hull as several pounds of radioactive material went supercritical and released a megaton of pure explosive force. In a microsecond, the radiation washed over the shields, turning them pure white, with the shockwave right behind.

  The blast struck the ship at the port bow, a tidal wave of force creating sudden reverse acceleration that slammed crewmen against their restraints, broke tie downs, sent cargo flying, and stressed the hull’s internal structure to its limits. All the bridge screens flashed white and then returned to normal function. Thrust immediately fell off to less than one gravity, and everyone shook their heads to clear the cobwebs.

  “Bogey 1 and 2 have evaded,” Tactical announced. “They should be out of missiles as well.”

>   “Very well,” Captain Winslow said. “Damage report?”

  “We have minor structural damage in the forward sections,” Engineering announced. “We have minor pressure loss ahead of frame twelve. Shield generators four, five, and nine are overloaded. No damage indicators, but it will probably take an hour to reset them properly.”

  “Dispatch damage-control parties to assess the structural damage and see to the pressure loss.”

  “What about the other two bogeys?” Jim asked, still shaking with adrenaline. The captain looked at him.

  “We’re maneuverable, sir, but they have the advantage.” On the board, the very ships they were talking about were reacquired by the seeker missile, well on their way back toward the asteroid they’d come from.

  “We can catch them,” Jim said, “and obviously, the raiders have a base.”

  “Jim,” Hargrave cautioned.

  “No,” Jim said and held up a hand. “I want to know why we don’t finish them.”

  “It’s simple,” the captain explained. “This is a cruiser, but it isn’t armed and equipped as a cruiser. We don’t have any fighters, and we don’t have the firepower we once did. We’re lighter, faster, and better shielded. If we didn’t have the shields we do, that ship-killer would have done us in. As it is, we’re hurt and down three main shield generators. Another missile like that and we’re a radioactive cloud. Those two corvettes,” he pointed at the screen where the last two bogeys were retreating, though not too quickly, “are baiting us. They either have more corvettes, fighters, or maybe their own capital ship skulking behind that rock. If we pursued...”

  “They’d ambush us,” Jim finished. The captain nodded.

  “You handle smashing things on the ground,” Winslow said sternly, then gave him a little wink. “I’ll get you there. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Jim agreed.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 15

  Kash-Kah was a glittering ball of white with swirls of cotton candy clouds orbiting in the abyss of space. Tiny spots of green showed where volcanic vents created zones with sufficient heat to allow plants to grow on the surface. The Duplato had evolved under the ice and snow, in caverns where they learned fungiculture and raised subterranean animal flocks. Slowly they’d gained some level of science. The Galnet didn’t tell how the Duplato had first been contacted. Considering how they lived, Jim didn’t think the Duplato were capable of mounting a flight to orbit, and surely not one outside their solar system.