by Ryk Brown
The bridge was silent other than the sounds of various systems and the background chatter of messages coming in from all about the ship. None of them had ever witnessed such destruction, and they were in awe of what they had done to their enemy.
“Helm, come about and head for Earth, full burn,” the captain ordered calmly.
“Coming about for Earth. Full burn, aye,” Ensign Hunt reported as he tapped commands into his console to execute his orders.
“Put the tactical map back up and show me some targets,” the captain added. “Comms, notify Fleet Command that we’ve destroyed the four frigates coming from the moon and are returning to Earth to engage Jung forces in orbit…” The captain paused as he looked at the tactical map and picked out his next target. “Starting with the targets nearest the OAP.”
“Aye, sir,” the comm officer acknowledged.
“Combat, Captain,” the captain called over the comm-set.
“Captain, go for combat,” Commander Nasser answered.
“Full spread of missiles into that troop ship. Launch a second wave at her escorts as soon as possible. All nukes.”
“Captain, isn’t that troop ship already empty?” the commander inquired respectfully.
“Maybe, but we don’t know that for sure. There may be a command and control platform for the ground forces on there as well. Besides, she’s also the closest of three ships to the OAP. In a few minutes she’ll have a line of sight on them, and we need to keep the Celestia’s escape a secret if possible, or they’ll just chase her down later.”
“Understood, sir.”
“How long will it take for our missiles to reach the targets in Earth orbit?” the captain asked.
“Five and a half minutes if they burn the entire time,” Lieutenant Eckert reported.
“Make sure they do,” the captain ordered. “How long until that missile reaches the OAP?”
“Four minutes, fifteen seconds.” The young tactical officer looked at the captain. “That’s going to be cutting it pretty close, sir.”
“Yes, it is,” Captain Christopoulos agreed.
* * *
“Time to impact?” Lieutenant Commander Kovacic asked his comm officer.
“OAP control says four minutes!” Ensign Souza answered from the Celestia’s comm station at the aft end of the bridge.
“Alert the OAP that we’re departing. Tell them to retract all boarding tunnels in thirty seconds. Make sure we’re buttoned up before they retract those tunnels.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Helm, prepare to release all mooring clamps and thrust forward.”
“Don’t we need the reactors to be at twenty-five percent first?” Luis asked.
“Only for the mains,” the lieutenant commander explained. “Maneuvering can run on half that, and docking thrusters can run on battery power, for that matter.”
“But without the reactors…” Luis began.
“They’ll be at greater than twenty-five percent by the time we’re clear enough to light up the mains,” the lieutenant commander insisted.
“All boarding hatches are secured,” Ensign Souza reported. “Engineering reports all finished compartments show stable pressure and are ready to get under way. Reactors one and two are at eighteen and twelve percent, respectively.”
“You see? They’re coming up already,” the lieutenant commander assured Luis.
It wasn’t enough to make Luis smile. The lieutenant commander seemed somewhat arrogant and a bit too self-assured. He reminded Luis of his late roommate from the Academy, Nathan. He only hoped the lieutenant commander was luckier than his friend had been.
“Boarding tunnels are retracting,” Ensign Souza reported. “OAP reports we are clear for departure.”
“Helm, release the mooring clamps and thrust forward.”
“Aye, sir,” Luis answered. He swallowed hard and pressed the button that the lieutenant commander had shown him. He could feel the clamps release with a clunk. The ship felt like it shifted slightly sideways, as the view of outside on the main view screen appeared to dip to one side. “Thrusting forward,” he announced as he activated the docking thruster.
The image on the main view screen began to slowly move as the Celestia slid forward through the long assembly framework that surrounded the ship. The ship appeared to be drifting closer to the framework along their left side, forcing Luis to counter with a tiny amount of thrust to port. The ship drifted back to starboard, and he applied counter-thrust to hold them in the center as they continued to drift forward down the tunnel of trusses.
“Faster, if you please,” the lieutenant commander said.
Luis fired more forward thrusters, slightly increasing the Celestia’s forward speed.
“That’s it. Don’t be shy,” the lieutenant commander added. “Faster is better.” He turned his head back to the comm officer. “Time to missile impact?”
“Three minutes, sir.”
“Time to clear the OAP?” Lieutenant Commander Kovacic asked Luis.
“Uh…” Luis had no idea how to determine the answer to the lieutenant commander’s question.
“Press the display to place a mark at the point where we’d be clear,” the lieutenant commander explained. “Then ask the flight computer the time to that point at current speed.”
Luis did as the lieutenant commander had instructed. “Ha, look at that,” Luis exclaimed. “Uh, two minutes, twenty-seven seconds, sir.” He looked at the lieutenant commander.
“Like I said, I had some time to fiddle around with it before you came,” the lieutenant commander said. “Faster, Ensign. Faster.”
“Yes, sir.” Luis added more forward thrust. The surrounding framework began to pass by them more quickly than before. Luis could feel his pulse quickening as their rate of travel out of the assembly tunnel felt uncomfortably fast to him.
“Faster, Ensign.”
“I think this is fast enough, sir,” Luis said nervously as he recalculated their time to clear the OAP. “We’ll be out in a minute, ten, now.”
“Very well,” the lieutenant commander relented. “Reactor levels?” he asked the comm officer.
“Twenty and sixteen,” Ensign Souza reported from the comm station. “Two minutes to impact.”
Luis could see the end of the assembly tunnel rapidly approaching on the main view screen. “We’re almost out, sir!”
“Sir, message from the Intrepid!” Ensign Souza said. “She’s instructing us to wait until her nukes detonate, then do a thirty-second escape burn at full power. They want us to shut down everything after that until we hear from them again.”
“They want us to cold-coast?” Luis said, remembering the terminology from basic flight training at the academy.
“He’s making a screen for us,” the lieutenant commander realized. “Acknowledge the message, Ensign.”
“Aye, sir.”
The lieutenant commander turned back to Luis. “The nukes will scramble their sensors for at least half a second, maybe more. If we burn at full power then shut down, they won’t see us unless they are actively searching for us, which they won’t be as long as the Intrepid is attacking them.”
“But sooner or later, we’re going to have to do a longer burn,” Luis said, “or we’ll never make it out of the system.”
“I’m sure they’ll ask us to do another burn eventually.” Lieutenant Commander Kovacic turned back to the comm officer. “Reactor status?”
“Twenty-four and twenty,” Ensign Souza reported.
“We’re clear!” Luis announced as the last ring of the assembly tunnel passed over them.
“Prepare to leave orbit,” the lieutenant commander ordered.
“Course?” Luis asked.
The lieutenant co
mmander took a small piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Luis. “Enter that course, then dispose of that paper,” he instructed calmly with just enough volume for the two of them to hear.
Luis looked at the lieutenant commander. “Uh, yes, sir.” Luis took the paper, opened it, and punched in the course. He then looked around for a way to dispose of the paper as instructed, but found nothing of use. Finally, he stuck the piece of paper in his mouth and began chewing.
“Sensors are up!” Ensign Schenker announced as he took his seat at the sensor console on the left side of the bridge.
As he continued chewing, Luis glanced at the sensor operator on his left, who had just come onto the bridge a moment before. He recognized him as the ensign who had checked him in at the forward boarding hatch.
“Holy crap! The Intrepid just blew the shit out of that troop ship!” Ensign Schenker announced with surprise. “I count at least seven detonations!”
“Put it up on main view screen!” the lieutenant commander ordered.
The image on the main, spherical view screen that wrapped around the front half of the bridge of the Celestia switched to a different camera and instantly zoomed in on the distant ships off their starboard beam. Secondary explosions were still tearing apart the remaining larger pieces of the troop ship’s broken hull.
“Damn,” Lieutenant Commander Kovacic muttered.
Luis watched as he finished chewing the piece of paper and swallowed hard. He had never witnessed the destruction of another spaceship. None of them had. It was an exhibition of power, but it was also a reminder of exactly what would happen to them if they didn’t escape, and soon.
“One minute to missile impact,” the ensign reported.
“Reactors?”
“Twenty-eight and twenty-four.”
“Stand by on the main drive,” the lieutenant commander reminded Luis. “And be sure you throttle up gradually. The inertial dampeners won’t be at full power yet. We don’t want to end up as goo against the back wall.”
Luis checked his instruments and displays just as he had done countless times over the last minute. The mains were ready to burn with the press of a single button. “Yes, sir. No goo, sir.”
The bridge of the Celestia was enveloped by a blinding, white light coming from the main view screen.
“Kill the viewer!” the lieutenant commander ordered, covering his eyes. “Light the mains and throttle up easy!”
Luis squinted, shielding his eyes from the blinding light as he pressed the button to ignite the main engines. Even at only ten percent of their main power, he was thrown back in his seat by the sudden surge forward. He looked back over his shoulder as the main view screen shut off. Lieutenant Commander Kovacic was picking himself up off the floor and trying to get into the command chair. Everyone else on the bridge had been lucky enough to have been sitting when Luis fired the main engines. “Sorry, sir!” Luis apologized. “I didn’t think ten percent would be that powerful.”
“No problem!” the lieutenant commander assured him. “My fault. I should’ve been clearer. Keep throttling up, nice and easy, Ensign.”
“Aye, sir.” Luis throttled up the main engines, trying to maintain a slow and steady rate of acceleration.
“Time!” the lieutenant commander called out.
“Fifteen seconds!” Luis answered, checking the burn clock. “Twenty seconds!”
“Stand by to kill the mains!” the lieutenant commander ordered.
“Twenty-five seconds!” Luis reported.
“Kill the mains!”
Luis cut off all power to the main engines. The relief was apparent, as he felt like someone had lifted a massive weight from his chest. “Mains are shut down.”
“Roll us over and pitch down so we’re showing them our belly,” the lieutenant commander ordered. “It’s the thickest part of the hull and radiates the least heat. It will also hide the glow from our reactor caps.”
“Aye, sir,” Luis answered. “Rolling over and pitching down.” Luis carefully calculated the angle of their course in relation to the Earth in addition to the vector from which the Jung cruisers were approaching his homeworld. Once he was satisfied that he knew how much to roll and pitch the ship, he entered the parameters into the flight computer and started the maneuvering cycle.
“Let’s get everything shut down quickly!” the lieutenant commander ordered. “Engineering, bridge. Take the reactors down to standby mode, but don’t take them completely offline. We may need them to come up to full power in a hurry.”
“Yes, sir,” Tilly answered, “reactors to standby.”
“Maneuver complete, sir,” Luis said with relief. “I angled the ship just like you ordered, so we’re showing our belly to both the Earth and the inbound Jung cruisers.”
“Good work, Ensign,” Lieutenant Commander Kovacic said. “Go ahead and power down the maneuvering systems for now. We want to be as cold as the space around us.”
One by one, nonessential systems began shutting off all around the bridge.
“Bring up one of the ventral cameras on the main view screen,” Lieutenant Commander Kovacic ordered.
The main view screen snapped back to life, revealing the OAP as it rapidly fell away from them, leaving the Earth behind it. Just before it became too small to see, the last missile, the one that had gotten past the Intrepid, struck the platform and exploded.
“Magnify,” the lieutenant commander said solemnly. He almost wished he hadn’t. The missile had struck at the heart of the Orbital Assembly Platform and had ignited her stored propellant. The resulting secondary explosion sent pieces of the assembly tunnels scattering in all directions as twisted hunks of metal. Pieces that had been propelled toward the Earth by the explosion left fiery trails. Soon, the rest of the station would meet a similar fate as it too reentered the atmosphere.
“Sir,” one of the civilian technicians said, “if we’re going to run cold, we need to turn off the main view screen. We’re going to be running mostly on batteries, and that display system uses a lot of power that would be better saved for other systems.”
Lieutenant Commander Kovacic said nothing for several seconds.
“Sir?”
“Kill it,” he responded. “Comms, check with engineering and make sure everything is shut down and the reactors are on standby. I want us to blend in with the cold of space.”
“Yes, sir,” Ensign Souza acknowledged.
“And remind him to stand ready. We may have to fire them up again on short notice.”
* * *
Captain Christopoulos watched as the icon representing the Celestia changed from a solid blue to a blue outline, indicating that her position was only an estimate. “Good, she’s gone cold.”
“Nuclear flashes are fading, sir,” Ensign Kono reported from the sensor station. “The targets will have full sensor capabilities in ten seconds.”
“What’s our nearest target?” the captain asked.
“The frigate that was escorting the troop ship, sir,” Lieutenant Eckert replied.
“Combat, Captain. Main guns on the frigate. Load all missile launchers with nukes. Lock them on that frigate and fire when ready.”
“Aye, sir,” Commander Nasser answered over the comm-set.
“New contacts!” Ensign Kono announced. “Eight high-speed targets. Probable missile launch!”
“From the frigate?” the captain asked.
“No, sir, from the cruiser just cresting the horizon. Transferring tracks to tactical.”
“Time to impact: five minutes,” Lieutenant Eckert reported.
“Combat, Captain. As soon as you get those nukes away, send a full spread of conventionals at the cruiser on the horizon. Then reload with nukes again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We need to make our turn, sir,” Ensign Hung warned.
“Is that cruiser still firing on the Earth?” the captain asked.
“Yes, sir,” Ensign Kono answered. “She’s high up, and she’s damaged, but all her weapons are still good. I can’t determine her surface targets from this far out, but she’s still firing. Best guess—she’s firing on South America right now.”
“Helm, bring us on a counter orbit to the contacts,” the captain ordered. “We need to take them head-on, so we can close quickly. We need to stop that cruiser from firing on the surface.”
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Hunt answered. “Coming to port and decelerating to orbital velocity. Taking the targets head-on, counter orbit.”
“How long will it take us to settle into orbit?”
The navigator looked at his displays. “Two minutes, forty-seven seconds, sir.”
“Counter orbit will make those incoming missiles hit us sooner, Captain,” Lieutenant Eckert warned.
“Revised time of impact?”
“Just over two minutes. Preparing to spin up point-defenses.” The tactical officer looked at his displays. “Missiles are launching. Sixteen nukes away. Time to impact with the frigate: ninety seconds.”
* * *
“The Orbital Assembly Platform has been destroyed,” Rear Admiral Duncan said. “The missile struck her propellant storage. She’s in pieces, most of which are headed into the atmosphere.”
“And the Celestia?” Admiral Galiardi asked as he stared at the large tactical display on the far wall of Fleet Command’s underground command center.
