by Ryk Brown
“Eleven down!”
“Two hundred meters!”
“Contacts two and three are both firing another spread of missiles!” Mister Navashee announced.
“Three hundred meters!”
“Sixteen missiles inbound! Forty seconds to impact!”
“Four hundred meters!”
“Helm, stop translation! Kill the mains!” Nathan ordered. “Yaw ten degrees to starboard as you pitch over one-eighty!”
“Zero thrust! Pitching and yawing!” the helmsman answered.
“I want our nose to track along the starboard frigate,” Nathan added. “Tactical! As our tubes come to bear, fire on the frigate!”
“Aye, sir!” Mister Randeen answered.
“Their missiles are having a hard time making the turn!” Mister Navashee reported.
“Nose on target in five seconds!” Mister Chiles called out.
“Ready to fire!” Mister Randeen announced.
“Two……one……”
“Firing!”
Two brilliant bolts of plasma energy streaked over their heads on the spherical view screen.
“Stand by to snapshot on two and four. Full yield nukes,” Nathan ordered. “Target the cruiser.”
“Readying snapshot, full yields, two and four, aye!”
“Impact!” Mister Navashee reported. “One hit on contact three!”
“Pitch complete,” Mister Chiles reported from the helm.
“Full burn, Mister Chiles!” Nathan ordered. “Slow us down fast!”
“Full burn, aye!”
“Recharge tubes one and three and stand by to fire!” Nathan ordered.
“Recharging one and three, aye,” Mister Randeen answered. “Thirty seconds to full charge!”
“Our speed is falling!” Mister Chiles reported.
“Incoming missiles cannot make the turn in time!” Mister Navashee reported excitedly. “They’re going to overshoot!”
“Range on the cruiser is decreasing fast!” Mister Randeen announced. “Three hundred and closing!”
“Contact three has lost shields, lower port bow,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Lock topside quads on contact three and open fire!” Nathan ordered. “Focus on the underside of her port bow!”
“All contacts are attempting to decelerate!” Mister Navashee reported.
“Firing topside quads!” Mister Randeen reported from the tactical station. “Frigates are returning fire!”
“The cruiser is translating down relative!” Mister Navashee reported. “I think she means to block our maneuver, sir!”
“Helm! Resume downward translation!” Nathan ordered.
The bridge shook as rail gun rounds from the Jung frigates pounded the Aurora’s thick, armored hull.
“Frigates are passing overhead now!” Mister Randeen reported.
“Range to cruiser is two hundred kilometers and closing,” Mister Navashee announced. “She’s firing missiles! Four inbound!”
“Firing point-defenses!” Mister Randeen announced.
“Lock a full spread of missiles on the cruiser and fire!” Nathan ordered.
“Locking missiles on target!” Mister Randeen announced. “One of the four incoming intercepted. Firing missiles on the cruiser!”
Nathan glanced up at the view screen as the four missiles streaked overhead on their way toward the cruiser.
“Cruiser is firing point-defenses!” Mister Navashee reported.
“Two down!” Mister Randeen announced.
“Range to cruiser is one-ninety!” Mister Navashee reported.
“Any way she can block us from passing underneath?” Nathan asked.
“No way, sir!” Mister Riley reported from the helm. “Not unless we reverse our translation!”
“Three down!” Mister Randeen announced.
“Cruiser at one-seventy and closing!” Mister Navashee said.
“Mister Chiles, decrease your downward translation rate to match that of the cruiser, and stand by to put our tubes on her.”
“Matching the cruiser’s translation rate and standing by to put our tubes on her,” the helmsman acknowledged.
“Four down!” Mister Randeen reported.
“Range to cruiser is one-fifty and closing,” Mister Navashee reported. “Range to frigates is fifty kilometers and increasing!” he added happily.
“Looks like they weren’t expecting us to slam on the brakes,” Nathan said.
“One-thirty!”
“All our missiles were intercepted,” Mister Randeen reported.
“One hundred!” Mister Navashee reported. “Aspect change! The cruiser is pitching up and firing her mains again!”
“She’s trying to put some distance between us,” Nathan realized. “Helm! Kill your translation! Keep our nose on the cruiser as she climbs!” Nathan turned to look over his shoulder at his tactical officer. “How are we doing on the recharge, Mister Randeen?”
“Ten seconds,” his tactical officer replied.
“Nose is on target,” the helmsman reported.
“Give me some lead,” Mister Randeen told the helmsman.
“You’ve got it,” Mister Chiles answered. “Three seconds.”
Nathan watched the navigational display between his helmsman and navigator, waiting until their angle was just right. “Snapshot tubes two and four!”
“Snapshot two and four!” Mister Randeen answered. “Torpedoes away! Impact in twenty seconds!”
The bridge continued to shake as the two Jung frigates, both now passing ahead of them, continued to pound the Aurora with their rail guns.
“One and three at full charge. Ready to fire!”
Nathan glanced at the tracks of the two conventional torpedoes they had just fired. “Decrease your lead, but keep our nose on them, Mister Chiles,” Nathan said calmly.
“Decreasing lead, aye.”
“Lock another spread of missiles on the underside of the cruiser and stand by,” Nathan ordered his tactical officers.
“Locking missiles,” Mister Randeen answered.
“Range to cruiser passing fifty!” Mister Navashee reported.
“Stand by to fire plasma torpedoes on the cruiser.”
“Standing by.”
“Five seconds to torpedo impacts,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Fire plasma torpedoes,” Nathan ordered.
Two red bolts of energy shot out of the Aurora’s port and starboard upper torpedo tubes, racing at incredible speed toward the Jung cruiser as she attempted to climb away from the Aurora. The bolts of plasma streaked past the conventional torpedoes fired seconds earlier and slammed into the cruiser’s underside, causing her shields to glow as they attempted to dissipate the massive amounts of energy that had just been dumped into them. A second later, as the cruiser’s shields continued to struggle with the massive strain, the nuclear warheads on the two conventional torpedoes detonated in a blinding, white flash.
“Direct hit!” Mister Navashee reported with glee. “All four! Her lower shields are gone!” he added.
“Fire missiles!” Nathan ordered.
“Firing missiles!” Mister Randeen answered. “Ten seconds to impact.”
“Show me the target, full magnification,” Nathan ordered.
The main view screen shimmered momentarily, resolving into a magnified view of the underside of the Jung cruiser that nearly filled the screen. Nathan watched as all four missiles slammed into the cruiser and exploded, tearing gaping holes in her side.
“Reload two and four, full yields. Lock on those holes and fire when ready,” he instructed calmly.
“Reloading. Stand by.”
The vibrations from the frigat
e’s rail gun attacks on the Aurora suddenly ceased. Nathan looked at his sensor operator to his left.
“Contact three has disengaged its rail gun attack. Contacts two and three are turning away from each other.”
“They’re going to try to come about and get on either side of us,” Nathan surmised, “and we can’t defend against both of their missile attacks.”
“Two and four reloaded and locked onto the cruiser.”
“Lead reestablished,” Mister Chiles reported from the helm, having already anticipated the need.
“Excellent. Fire two and four,” Nathan ordered.
“Torpedoes away,” Mister Randeen reported. “Fifteen seconds.”
“Cruiser is trying to roll,” Mister Navashee warned.
“She’s trying to take her damaged sections out of our line of fire,” Nathan realized. “Is she going to make it?”
Mister Navashee studied his displays for a moment, then turned back to the captain. “No, sir,” he answered, shaking his head. “She’s lost too many of her starboard thrusters. She’s rolling too slowly.”
“Five seconds,” Mister Randeen reported.
Nathan looked up at the image of the damaged cruiser on the main view screen just as the torpedoes reached their target and detonated in another blinding, white flash. When the flash cleared, the cruiser had broken in half, and secondary explosions were in the process of tearing her apart even further.
“Direct hits!” Mister Randeen reported.
“Multiple secondary explosions!” Mister Navashee added. “She’s done for!”
Nathan continued to watch with surprising satisfaction as the secondary explosions blew holes in the massive cruiser from the inside out. Within seconds, she showed no signs of life, drifting harmlessly in space and surrounded by chunks of debris both great and small. They spread out in multiple directions as they continued to carry the same forward momentum they once had shared as a single ship. An odd thought suddenly entered Nathan’s mind, as he wondered how far the debris of the cruiser would spread and how long it would continue to pollute their system. More importantly, was there anything on board the now dead ship that might be of use to them later?
“Any chance she can become a threat again?” Nathan asked.
“No, sir,” Mister Navashee reported. “Main propulsion, maneuvering, life support, power plants: all are not only offline; they’re destroyed. A good eighty percent of her decks no longer hold pressure. She’s dead, sir.”
“Note her location, course, and speed.”
“Aye, sir,” Mister Navashee answered.
“Contact one is destroyed,” Mister Randeen reported, his own satisfaction evident in his voice.
“What about the frigates?” Nathan asked.
“Both frigates are still coming about,” Mister Navashee reported. “Wait… They’re firing! Holy… They must be firing all batteries, sir! I show thirty-two missiles inbound! Time to impact is eighty-seven seconds!”
“Captain,” Mister Randeen began, “we can’t defend against that many missiles! Especially since they’re coming in from nearly opposite vectors!”
“I guess the charade is over,” Nathan said. “Mister Riley, plot an escape jump. Five light minutes ahead on our present course.”
“Five light minutes, aye,” the navigator answered.
“Helm, prepare to come about as soon as we make the jump.”
“Yes, sir,” Mister Chiles answered.
“One minute to impact!” Mister Navashee announced.
“Jump plotted and ready,” Mister Riley announced.
“Jump.”
The bridge filled momentarily with the blue-white jump flash, translated at subdued levels through the main view screen.
“Jump complete,” Mister Riley reported.
“Coming about,” Mister Chiles followed.
“Reload two and four with nukes again, and recharge one and three,” Nathan instructed.
“Aye, sir,” Mister Randeen answered.
“Plot a return jump,” Nathan ordered. “Put us ten light seconds aft of contact three’s expected position based on last course and speed. Be ready to jump forward along our course to within twenty kilometers of the target once we get an updated position fix.”
“Aye, sir,” Mister Riley acknowledged.
“Time to turn completion?” Nathan inquired.
“Seventy seconds,” Mister Riley replied. “We had already decelerated quite a bit before the jump.”
“Very well.” Nathan tapped his comm-set. “Damage control, Captain. How are we looking, Master Chief?”
“Several breaches in the outer hull, and we took some hits in the forward propellant tank, port side. We lost nearly half its contents before the tank resealed.”
“How are we on propellant?” Nathan asked his navigator.
“Down to one-third capacity,” Mister Riley answered. “We should be fine, sir, as long as we don’t lose another tank.”
“Anything else, Master Chief?” Nathan asked over the comm-set.
“Nothing major, sir. However, you can stop pretending to have a few rail guns down, because now we actually do. Five, six, seven, and eleven are offline until we can get them retracted and get repair teams into their bays.”
“Understood,” Nathan responded, switching off his comm-set.
“Turn will be complete in twenty seconds,” the helmsman announced.
“Return jump is plotted and ready, sir,” Mister Riley reported.
“Tubes two and four are loaded with nukes and ready to fire,” Mister Randeen added. “One and three are fully charged.
“We’ll do this by the numbers,” Nathan said. “We jump, get a fix, then close in behind the first target. Nukes, then missiles, then plasma torpedoes. If there’s anything left, hit them with the quads as we pass under. Then we jump away again, turn, jump back, and hit the other target in the same way.”
“Turn complete,” Mister Chiles reported from the helm.
“Jump when ready, Mister Riley.”
“Jumping in three……two……one……jump.”
The jump flash washed over the bridge again. Nathan looked at the tactical map on the lower right side of the bridge’s spherical view screen. A look of surprise came over him. “Where are they?”
“Threat board is clear,” Mister Randeen reported.
“Where did they go?” Nathan wondered out loud. “Back to Earth?”
“I’m picking up a debris trail,” Mister Navashee reported. “It may be from contact three, the frigate we damaged.”
“Are you sure it’s not from the cruiser?” Nathan asked.
“Yes, sir. The cruiser’s debris is still spreading out along its flight path at the time of destruction, which was opposite the last known course of the frigate. It has to be the frigate’s debris.”
“But they were still traveling along the same course as the cruiser when we damaged them,” Mister Randeen argued.
“They’re venting gases, leaking radiation; they’re even leaking human waste products,” Mister Navashee added.
“Are you telling me you’re tracking their sewage, Mister Navashee?” Nathan asked.
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“Can you determine their course?”
“Scanning ahead and extrapolating,” Mister Navashee said. “Their trail ends about seven hundred kilometers ahead, sir. Flight path of the sewage indicates a direct course back to Earth, just like you thought.”
“How long ago did they go to FTL?” Nathan asked.
“I estimate three minutes, sir,” Mister Navashee answered, “just after we jumped away.”
“How long does it take them to get back to Earth?”
“From this distance
at known top FTL speeds, maybe eighteen minutes,” Mister Randeen said.
“Then they’re still at least thirteen to fourteen minutes from Earth,” Nathan realized. “Extrapolate their course and show me their estimated position, assuming they went to FTL the moment we jumped away.”
The tactical map on the main view screen changed, showing the return course of the frigate as well as the Earth’s orbital track.
Nathan stared at the map for several seconds, thinking. “Mister Riley, can you put us about a minute ahead of that frigate, slightly off her flight path and flying in the same direction and at relatively the same speed?”
“It will take two jumps to get around the target,” Mister Riley warned, “and I’ll have to guess on the speed.”
“Very well,” Nathan said. “The sooner the better.” Nathan sat back down in his command chair. “Oh, and try to keep us beyond the reach of the battleship orbiting Earth.”
“Yes, sir.” Mister Riley looked at his console, entering several commands. “Alter course two degrees to port,” he instructed the helmsman.
“Two degrees to port, aye,” Mister Chiles answered.
“Move the lower quads topside, Mister Randeen,” Nathan ordered. “We’ll position ourselves nose toward the target, pitched down just enough that we can get a good firing angle with all four quads as well as the minis.”
“Yes, sir.”
“First jump is plotted and ready,” Mister Riley reported.
“Execute.”
* * *
“Jump complete,” Loki announced. His voice was flat, lacking emotion. “Passive sensors are operating. Looking for the Aurora.”
“Shouldn’t she be right in front of us?” Josh wondered. “Just look for the big ship with several bigger ships shooting at it.”
“I’m not seeing her,” Loki said, his tone becoming concerned.
“What?”
“I’m not seeing anyone here. I’m going active,” Loki said.
“You checked our position, right?” Josh wondered. “Did we jump to the right place?”
“Yeah, we’re right where we’re supposed to be. The Aurora should be within a few light seconds of this position, but she’s not. No one is.”
