by Britt Ringel
Twist forced himself to look away from the spectacle of butchery playing over the tactical plot. He looked to his second officer expectantly. “What, Lucy?”
Holt worked her console. “What’s this?” she asked simply as a side screen flared to life. An optical of one of the approaching Parasite cutters appeared. Unlike the featureless, pristine bow of the cutter Pathfinder had encountered in J-2, the bow on the screen was concave, forming almost a bowl that recessed into the ship. Just 4.5ls away, the picture clearly showed what looked ominously like a lens in the center of the bowl.
Red cutter symbols disappeared from the plot at a precipitous rate. The range had closed to just over 4ls and, already, a full thirty-eight cutters had been exterminated inside the first fourteen seconds of battle, leaving less than half of the aliens’ starting numbers.
Twist studied the optical, trying to discern a meaning for the differently shaped alien ship. In between eye blinks, the onscreen cutter transformed from lethal menace to a mute burst of short-lived fire and expanding wreckage as one of Pathfinder’s gunners found his mark. An instant later, the surviving thirty-three Parasite cutters, military variants formerly unseen by human eyes, opened fire.
Chapter 45
Although Pathfinder’s optical side screen instantly turned to static, she did not tremble when the first shots lashed out at the Terran ship. Twist’s only indication of destruction came from the change in colors on a system status display. Half a beat later, a deluge of automated damage reports began to scroll down his chair arm console.
“Port shields are down!” Lieutenant Quick called out in disbelief. “Multiple systems going offline!”
“August,” Diallo cried out urgently, “the power is draining from Quad Turret One.”
Quick pressed her left hand against the side of her shocksuit helmet, trying to push the internal headset more firmly to her ear. “Switch to aux power, Mosi,” she advised sharply before extending a palm toward the weapons officer. “Wait, I need to hear this.” She stared intently at nothing as she processed the damage being reported to her.
Twist watched the exchange. I need to assert control now. “Mosi, fight Pathfinder with whatever is left.” Another four cutters had met annihilation from Pathfinder’s and Pioneer’s latest volley. The count was down to twenty-two. “Vix, work with WEPS, we can’t allow our fire to slack off.” The cutters had closed to 3.5ls. “We’re nearly through them.”
Kirkpatrick issued a sharp command, splitting Diallo’s duties between them as Twist turned to Lieutenant Quick. Her small frame was hunched over her panel but she appeared to be finished accepting initial damage reports.
“August,” Twist said loudly to gain her attention, “how is our power core? Is the ship in immediate danger?”
“The core hasn’t been hit,” she answered brusquely. “We’ve lost Quad One. Shield Generator One is stuck in abort mode. The Looking Glass optical is gone. We’ve taken a lot of hits to non-combat systems…” She trailed off briefly before saying, “Okay, Piers. Double-check the containment field and move on.” Quick turned to face her captain. “There were some decompression events near our stern, Captain, but we’re now holding atmo.”
Twist nodded and looked back to the tactical plot. The Parasites’ opening salvo had hit Pathfinder hard but the suicidal ships had not followed with a second volley. Only nine cutters remained at a distance of 3ls. It was clear that they would never reach his ship. Why don’t they just break off? he asked himself angrily. Another three of the tiny symbols pulsed on the plot before fading out. Can we get them all before their weapons recharge?
Combat lasted another seven seconds. When the final cutter disintegrated in a fusillade of overlapping fire, Twist felt his bridge crew take a collective sigh of relief. He looked down and cringed at the multitude of glowing lights on Pathfinder’s status display. Whatever hit us pierced our shields with pitiful ease. He changed the main wall screen back to the system plot to regain strategic situational awareness.
As expected, the larger picture was unchanged. The twin scout ships had only arrived inside Junction two minutes ago and the skirmish had lasted just over half a minute. Twist looked at the Parasite ship symbols 10lm from his squadron’s position. Those ships won’t even know that we’re here for another eight minutes.
“Lucy, scan that flotilla,” he ordered while circling the second Parasite formation with a light-stylus. “I want numbers and compositions.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Holt answered quickly. She set to work but faltered. “Captain, it’s going to be harder without our long range optical.” She looked at Pathfinder’s Operations commander. “August, is there an ETC for restored functionality on the Looking Glass?”
“It’s gone, ma’am,” Quick answered. “I don’t think we’re getting it back until it’s replaced by a shipyard.”
“What hit us?” Twist asked. He waited momentarily for an answer and then loudly demanded, “Lieutenant Quick, report!”
Quick twisted in her chair. Her eyes were wide, expression nearly frantic. “I don’t know yet, sir! I’m still trying to compile the damage report!” She raised a visibly shaking hand to wipe under her eyes.
“Hey, August,” Kirkpatrick said in a soothing voice, “you’re doing great. Take a minute and talk to your section. Let them know the situation is under control for now and give them a few moments to collect themselves.” He turned to his captain. “I’ll work with August and get you that damage report, Captain.”
Twist muttered acknowledgment while manipulating his chair arm controls. Captain Hunter’s face appeared on the tiny screen. Without preamble, Twist asked, “How’s Pioneer? How bad were you hit, Adam?”
The commander’s helmet was missing. “We took seven separate hits. Our ships weren’t hit by laser bursts, the scoring on your ship’s armor is all wrong for that. We’re still analyzing.” Hunter waved off someone before resuming. “Pioneer’s hurt pretty bad. We’re down to three-quarters laser armament. Our missile launcher has been knocked out but the shields will be back up soon. The port Type Twenty-two has been destroyed along with the Type Fifty. That means we’re looking at less than two-thirds our normal propulsion capability. Worse yet, the tunnel drive has taken damage. I’ve prioritized it and Lieutenant Beck thinks he can jerry rig a repair.”
“How long?”
Hunter tilted his head to one side. “Maybe an hour, give or take. We’re working hard on it.” He grimaced. “That’s not the worst of it, Caden. Our transmittance generator got cored. Whatever weapons they used went straight through the machinery. The rest of the damage is to non-vital systems.”
Twist looked to Pathfinder’s main screen. The light from their arrival in Junction would reach the Parasite flotilla in two minutes. They will immediately set an intercept course for us… at least that’s what they’re supposed to do. The work toward an accurate count of the flotilla ships was still ongoing. Already, Holt had posted a number of Parasite cutters surpassing five hundred. Even more ominous was the larger symbol at the center of the formation. What is that? he asked himself with a sense of dread. He sighed at the blob of enemies. That’s far too many ships for my tiny squadron to deal with but certainly not enough ships for our fleet to lead to the Commonwealth. That left but one option.
“We have to lead the second Parasite fleet back to J-Two, Adam,” Twist declared. “Let Davis ambush it and then see what he wants to do next.”
“Why don’t you take Pathfinder back through the tunnel point?” Hunter suggested. “I’ll orbit nearby and when our tunnel drive repairs are complete, we’ll dive behind you.”
Twist shook his head. “That fleet will reach you long before you repair the drive, Captain.”
“Then we’ll fight them off while we repair and dive afterwards.” Hunter’s tone made it clear he understood that was a losing proposition.
Think, Caden! Twist bit his lower lip. I need to buy Pioneer time or I leave her to die. Ghosts from the past haunted him and
he shook his head. I’m not abandoning another ship. “Move Pioneer to the tunnel point. Dive immediately upon repair and warn the fleet.”
Hunter furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously. “You’re taking Pathfinder back to J-Two, right?”
“Yes, but not before we pull that flotilla away from you. Pathfinder’s T-Gen is still functional so I’m going to stay visible and lure them into chasing us. Once you tell me Pioneer can dive, I’ll stealth and evade contact while maneuvering back to the tunnel point to dive out.”
Hunter shook his head. “Those cutters are a lot faster than Pathfinder and if they get too close, they’re going to detect you whether you’re stealthed or not.” He shook his head with more vigor. “I’m sorry but I can’t allow you to risk your ship for mine.”
“MOVE YOUR DAMNED SHIP!” Twist roared. Pathfinder’s bridge crew froze in unison and stared timidly at their red-faced captain.
Although the same rank, Twist was three months senior to Hunter. Pioneer’s captain cast his eyes downward as his mouth briefly became a thin line. “Understood, Captain, but—”
Twist severed the connection before Hunter could harbor further argument. He looked around the bridge, to the eyes still on him. Even Kirkpatrick and Holt looked apprehensive. After waiting impatiently for his crew to return to their duties, Twist voiced his annoyance. “Back to work, people. We have a mission to accomplish.” Compliance was instantaneous.
He returned his attention to the system plot. “Lieutenant Fitts, make your course three-three-one mark zero. Speed two-five-C.”
“Toward the flotilla?” Fitts asked incredulously but quickly recovered. “Yes, sir! Three-three-one mark zero, point two-five-C.”
Pioneer’s symbol on the system plot was rotating toward the tunnel point. Satisfied, Twist leaned toward Holt. “Flotilla numbers and composition?”
The sensorwoman’s tone was grave. “Twelve hundred cutter-sized ships, Captain. Without the Looking Glass, I can’t determine if these are normal or the armed variants.”
“And the mothership?”
Holt faced her captain and offered a shrug. “Not a super-carrier, sir. Energy output is all wrong and it’s much smaller. Roughly four hundred fifty meters long, estimated one hundred eighty thousand tonnes. It’s about twice as large as Pathfinder. The sensor computer wants to label it a destroyer.”
More surprises. Thanks, Admiral Heskan. Twist gritted his teeth. Did that son of a bitch get anything right? I’d like to ask him, if the bastard ever graced the field of battle. “What is it then?” he asked irritably.
Holt’s answer was pure defeat. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know and without the Looking Glass, I can’t tell until it gets closer.”
“We’ll, I doubt that’s going to be a problem,” Kirkpatrick interjected, trying to turn the mood on the bridge. He smiled bravely at his captain in an effort to defuse the tension.
“Okay,” Twist accepted with a frown. He turned to Quick. “What about their weapons? Do we know what hit us?”
“Judging by the damage inflicted and the magnetic fields we detected at the bows of the cutters,” Quick explained, “I think they were particle beams.”
“That would explain why our shields were ineffective… and their limited range,” Kirkpatrick noted. “You can’t offset thermal bloom for more than half a dozen light-seconds.”
“They didn’t fire until four light-seconds,” Holt corrected Kirkpatrick slightly. “It’s possible their particle beam tech is one of the few technologies that doesn’t surpass our own.”
“Okay, I guess that’s good news,” Twist conceded. “These new cutters have weapons but they’re short-ranged and not super death rays.”
The sensor panel chirped. Holt spun in place and announced, “The Parasite flotilla is on the move.”
On the system plot, the cloud of symbols grew vector lines representing thrust in a unified direction. The lines swung around each symbol until settling on a heading directly for Pathfinder. They grew longer until the flotilla reached a speed of .3c.
They’ve actually been moving now for ten minutes, Twist reminded himself. “Interesting,” he uttered, noting the fractionally lesser speed of the flotilla compared to a pure cutter fleet. “Navigator, reverse your course, one-zero-nine, mark zero, sprint speed.”
“How did you know they’d go after us and not Pioneer, Captain?” Holt asked after Fitts acknowledged the new command.
“Parasite doctrine,” he replied gruffly. At least he was right about that. “Given two targets, these things seem to charge toward the nearest one. In Kale, there were several, different groups of ships and the Parasites focused on the closest one. They did it again in this system ten years ago when Bolt made her suicide run toward the super-carrier. All of the cutters from that ship concentrated on her.”
“Then why didn’t that single cutter go straight for Pathfinder in J-Two?” Kirkpatrick asked cautiously.
“I don’t know,” Twist admitted. “Let’s just be thankful that they’re coming after us instead of Pioneer.”
“Yeah, thankful,” Kirkpatrick said dubiously before turning to Quick. “What’s the condition of our stealth panels on the port side?”
The operations officer scanned her console. “Forward and center panels each took a hit. The aft panel was hit a little harder. Two, maybe three shots.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds, Commander,” Holt added. “These alien weapons cored the panels but the spalling from the hits applied mostly to our duralloy hull and not the panels themselves. We’ve lost some emitters but we’re still around eighty percent stealth efficiency on the port side.”
Kirkpatrick leaned toward Twist and offered, “I’d still recommend keeping our starboard panels to the enemy for as long as we can.”
“Yeah, that won’t be difficult in the beginning,” Twist agreed. “However, we’re eventually going to have to work our way around that flotilla and toward the tunnel point.”
“When are we going to stealth?” Kirkpatrick asked.
Twist did not answer as he stared at the system plot. Pioneer was now orbiting with the tunnel point, presumably repairing her drive. Pathfinder was heading toward the heliosphere in a bid to reduce the closure speed of the Parasite flotilla in pursuit. His course would take his ship farther and farther away from the tunnel point to minimize the incentive for the aliens to switch targets. The malevolent swarm was a predicted 8.1lm away with a .02c closure rate.
About six hours and forty-five minutes before they overhaul us, he calculated on his chair arm console. They’ll be within six light-minutes in less than two hours though. He looked back to the system plot at the largest symbol in the gaggle of red. Just how good are your sensors?
“We’ll stealth the moment we see Pioneer dive,” Twist finally answered.
Kirkpatrick’s voice turned to a whisper. “What if Pioneer hasn’t tunneled before the Parasites catch up to us?”
Twist appraised his friend silently for a moment. “Then we’ll stealth before they break six light-minutes,” he answered honestly. “I’m afraid if we wait any longer than that, they’ll detect us whether the T-Gen is active or not.”
Kirkpatrick sighed with relief and smiled. “We should use the z-axis after we stealth. So far, we’ve been very two-dimensional.”
Twist nodded. “Already planning for that. We’re going down and around. With luck, they’ll just continue blindly out-system while we skirt by them on our way to the tunnel point.”
“So now we wait,” Holt predicted from her station.
“ASW,” Kirkpatrick said with a whimsical note. “Awfully Slow Warfare.”
Twenty-five minutes passed. Neither side altered course or speed.
Holt’s panel chirped. “Message from Pioneer, Captain.” Without pausing, she brought the communique to the main wall screen.
Adam Hunter looked ragged. “Captain Twist, Lieutenant Beck says our tunnel drive is as repaired as it’s going to get.” He scowled. “It’s not good
. He estimates a fifty-fifty chance of it generating a tunnel effect. Worse yet, he’s worried that triggering an effect is going to destroy the drive.”
Twist frowned at the news. Pioneer would not only need a functional tunnel drive to dive into tunnel space but also to bring itself back out. In the history of tunneling, no ship had ever reported missing its window to emerge into normal space, yet ships had gone missing. No one knew what happened to starships that missed tunnel exits, whether by navigation error or tunnel drive failure. Ships sailed alone in tunnel space and the fate of every ship lost while tunneling was an unsolved mystery.
“I’m having Beck go over the drive a final time before we dive,” Hunter advised. “Maybe he’ll catch something we overlooked during repair. It will also give you a chance to send us a final word.” He looked down momentarily before resuming. “We’re attempting our dive in exactly ten minutes unless we hear differently from you. Hunter out.”
Twist turned to Kirkpatrick. “Thoughts?”
The first officer continued to stare at the screen that formerly held Pioneer’s captain. He brought a hand up to the side of his face while he deliberated. Finally, he said with a light shrug, “Nothing comes to mind.”
Twist sat up and activated his comm recorder. “Captain Hunter, you may dive when Pioneer is ready. We’re transmitting our analysis of the Parasite weaponry and I remind you to warn Davis that we’ve encountered militarized cutters along with what is most likely a new class of Parasite starship.” Inspiration suddenly struck and he collected himself before continuing. “Before you dive, I want you to send all information including the optical data from your Looking Glass to us. Pathfinder’s sensors are currently limited. Escape and warn the fleet, Adam. Tell Admiral Davis that if Pathfinder hasn’t made it back twenty-four hours after your arrival, we probably aren’t coming back.” He lifted his finger off the recorder. “Send that, Lucy, and our analyses.”
