“What the hell are you doing? Why are we flying towards them?”Antoniy shouted. “We've got no weapons, you said it yourself!”
“We can only dodge so long, and we can't hide. The Raven's stealthy, but the enemy is tracking us. We need to distract their sensors to make them lose contact.” Klaus looked ahead at the enemy ship, using his craft’s sensors to examine the enemy vessel. “Good. It's a converted asteroid. Not very maneuverable. Probably just has a civilian-grade sensor suite, too. Should be easy enough to get away from.”
“Away from?”
“Watch.” The Raven skimmed along the enemy ship, clearing it by a bare handful of meters. The uneven surface of the 'ship' made it the maneuver extremely dangerous, but Klaus knew there was no choice. They flew right at an array of sensor globes mounted haphazardly on its exterior. Just as they reached them, he threw the Raven into a ninety-degree turn, so that the twin torches of the Raven’s fusion engines melted the sensors into so much useless slag.
“Ha-ha!” Klaus exclaimed. “I've always wanted to try that, see if it works!”
He turned to beam at Antoniy, who was looking back at him with an ashen face. Klaus could see the marks on the armrests where Antoniy had gripped the plastic hard enough to deform it. Antoniy blinked. “Where the hell did you learn to fly like that?”
“Simulator.” Klaus shrugged. “In my spare time, I run the Raven's systems in simulator mode. I'd always figured that the fusion torches could melt sensors like that.” He wouldn't yet mention exactly why he'd gotten into that train of thought. If Antoniy didn't want to talk about his actual background, then Klaus wouldn't divulge his. “Everything worked just according to theory!”
He reached overhead and flipped a large red switch. The eye-searingly bright fusion engines spooled down. With those extinguished, the Raven would be difficult to spot even if the enemy had operational sensors. Klaus pointed to the sensor icon for the crippled pirate ship, and then ticked off points on his fingers. “They're blind now, so they'll never find us. No other ships nearby. All we have to do is wait. They'll run off any minute now; after all, by now we could have sent out an SOS to the nearest Navy ship.”
The Raven didn't have that sort of Navy-spec long-distance communication ability, unfortunately. He'd never needed it, in fact never wanted it before. But the pirates didn't know that.
After the Raven had drifted for a few kilometers further away from the enemy craft, the low-signature fricsim engines deployed to stealthily dump the Raven's relative velocity. Grabbing hold of the warped gravity well of Sol, they acted as an anchor, slowing the small craft. This far in-system, the relatively strong gravity gradient afforded them excellent traction.
Antoniy nodded. “Well, while we’re waiting, mind explaining just how you’ve got this?” He gestured to the ship around them. "It doesn't seem to have quite as much, er, rust as the Ad Astra."
"Well, technically it belongs to Sidonia," Klaus replied, patting the console in front of him. "Of course, I subscribe to the old pre-spaceflight Air Force rules of ownership."
"Which was?"
"The planes belonged to the mechanics. The pilots only borrowed them for missions." Klaus grinned, and leaned back. "Who do you think keeps the rust out of here?"
"Oh, I get it." Antoniy winked at Klaus. "And what kind of 'missions' did pilots borrow this thing for?"
Before Klaus could organize a response, a loud chime rang out from the cockpit speakers. He ran his hands over the keyboard. That wasn't an alert he was expecting. At least not this quickly. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?”
Klaus' hands were scrambling over the controls. “FTL sensors found something incoming.” He shut down every non-essential system, making the Raven even harder to detect. “Something huge, at that. Too fast for a freighter. No idea what it is, but I’m assuming it’s hostile. Should be coming in any minute now. This should be interesting to watch — I’ll clear the hull.”
He flipped a switch, and the hull turned translucent. Only the controls and screens in front of Klaus remained opaque.
He heard Antoniy's sharp intake of breath, and grinned at the inexperienced crewman. “Holoprojectors on the inside hull, cameras on the outside. Best view possible. Keeps the boredom at bay.”
“Jesus Christ! Warn me next time!”
Klaus chuckled. He pointed at the sensor display. "At any rate, that contact should be coming in any second now."
For a moment, nothing happened as the two men peered out at the stars. Then, there came a soundless flash of crimson and white, and the unique shape of a fricsim-drive warship materialized. A dark sphere, at first visible only by the stars occluded behind it.
The image-resolution software of the Raven went to work, revealing more details. The skin was slate-gray, and two arrays of sails each stood out, glowing a dull orange as they shed heat. In the ship's side, a small docking port glowed light blue.
Klaus frowned. The gravity footprint — the ‘bow-wave’ — had indicated a much larger ship.
Then he gasped as the Raven's sensors pointed out that the warship — which he had assumed was closer — had come to a stop over ninety kilometers away. “That thing’s got to be five klicks across!”
Even the Ad Astra, an unarmored high-capacity freighter, had only measured four kilometers from bow to stern, and her cylindrical shape had had a much smaller volume. There was only one ship that Klaus knew of that could be that large, and there was no way that she would be sent this far from Earth.
“Who the hell would build such a monster?” added Antoniy.
On the plus side, regardless of exactly which ship it was, this newcomer had to be Navy — nobody else could possibly have the resources to launch a ship of that scale. The Raven's IFF system registered the newcomer as neither friendly nor enemy, which is about what he would expect with a Navy ship. The IFF in Klaus' suit didn't register anything - it just didn't have the range to see the ship.
Still, what was a Navy gunboat doing out here so quickly? Klaus zoomed in until he could see, in letters large enough to be visible, the name Overlord emblazoned on the matte-gray hull.
Well. So she had been sent all the way out here. But what in blazes was her mission? Klaus appreciated the rescue — albeit the timing could have been better for his crewmates — but there was no way the Navy would divert such a ship for just him and Antoniy.
Then again, there was the old saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth. Klaus would ask later, after being picked up by that ship.
“I'll be damned! It’s a Navy ship!” exclaimed Antoniy.
The pirates, in their converted asteroid, seemed to have drawn the same conclusion. Their cobbled-together vessel turned to flee, flinging off the repair-crew clinging to its outside. It had barely begun to move when all of the exterior lights on the pirate vessel suddenly went out, as did every other energy emission that the Raven’s sensors could detect.
Klaus drew a strained intake of breath. Most likely a microwave beam from the warship. Must have fried everything electronic aboard the enemy craft. Klaus' eyes widened. A high-power beam like that would also have cooked any EVA crew from the inside out. Of all the ways to die, that was among the worst. “Lieber Gott...” His voice drifted off.
Antoniy slowly turned to Klaus, and blinked. Did the kid understand what had just happened? The Russian whispered, “How about we tell them—” he pointed to the massive warship, now closing towards the disabled pirate vessel “—that we’re friendly. Before they assume we're hostile.”
Klaus shakily nodded. Smuggler or not, Antoniy had the right instincts on this one. “Aye.” The Raven's stealth systems were top-notch, at least when it had rolled off the factory floor. But Klaus wasn't willing to bet that this new warship, the Overlord, didn't have a sensor suite that was even newer. He opened a whisker-laser communications link with the warship on the standard emergency frequency, and brought the Raven out of stealth.
Chapter 4: Overl
ord
As the Raven entered the docking facility, Klaus had to keep himself from nodding off. The adrenaline was draining out of him, and with it, his energy. He realized with a start that he had not gotten any real sleep for nearly twenty-four hours. Then again, that may have been a simple result of having had his ship — his home and workplace for the past year and a half — shot to pieces with him aboard it. Klaus looked over at Antoniy. The kid didn't look stressed, though. The resilience of youth, he supposed.
The Raven nudged against the docking clamps, which then secured the small ship. Klaus laughed to himself. After more than a year of sitting in its jury-rigged docking mount in the Ad Astra, the Raven finally got to lie in a dock which she was designed for. Must be like home again.
Klaus opened the hatch, and then climbed out into the hangar. The open space was large enough to house the entire production line of Ravens — and the factory that built them! Stranger still, it was almost empty, with Klaus' own Raven sharing the expansive room with a mere three Fleet cutters docked below.
It looked wrong. Even more, it smelled wrong. A bay like this should be filled with the reek of oil, of coolant, of half-a-dozen different chemicals. There should be the smell of ozone from welding, the shouts of repair crews. This utterly clean, empty bay felt more like a display model than an active military hub.
Klaus and Antoniy had stripped out of their space suits in the Raven, and in the antiseptic cleanliness of the docking bay he felt out of place in civilian clothes. To compound the issue, a smartly-dressed ensign was waiting, 'Marius' printed on the name-tag on his chest. “Welcome aboard the TNS Overlord, Mr. Ericsson. And welcome aboard, lieutenant!” The ensign saluted.
Confused, Klaus began to protest that he was not a lieutenant – never had been, even when he'd been in the service – when he realized that the ensign was not looking at him, but rather past him. Turning, he saw that Antoniy was just exiting through the hatch.
Antoniy drew himself up and returned the young officer’s salute smartly. “Thank you, ensign.” His voice was tinged with friendly sarcasm, accompanying the grin on his face. “Glad to see that the Navy’s timing is as excellent as always.”
Antoniy? Antoniy was Navy? Klaus quickly thought through the day. He couldn't remember getting a concussion, much less one serious enough to explain this. He must have simply forgotten hitting his head on something. Maybe several times.
Or possibly it was just sleep deprivation, making him hallucinate. Imagine - clumsy Antoniy, a military officer? The idea was preposterous! Then again, at least this promised to be interesting, so Klaus decided to play along.
“Captain Conagher’s compliments, sir, “ the ensign enunciated carefully, “and she would like to speak to both you and Mr. Ericsson in her quarters. Follow me, sir.”
“Conagher, you say?” Antoniy raised one eyebrow. “Lead on.”
Antoniy and Klaus fell into step behind the ensign, who led them through a maze of intersecting corridors, always making sure they kept to the right-side wall. For their safety, he had said. Klaus barely registered the Navy personnel streaming past, or the drab metal walls, his thoughts lost in the events of the past day. There was precious little that made any sense. He leaned over and whispered, “You’re a naval officer? Why didn’t you tell me? And what in blazes were you doing on my ship?”
Antoniy smiled. “Marines, actually.”
That made a bit more sense. It would explain why he was so out of his depth on-board a ship. God only knew Marines could get dizzy playing checkers. Three dimensions was just asking too much of them. Klaus chuckled to himself.
Antoniy continued, “Sorry for not telling you, but it never became important on the Ad Astra. I feel for the loss of your ship, especially as it’s sort-of my fault she was attacked.”
“What?”
Before Klaus could erupt into a tirade, Antoniy interjected. “Calm down and I'll explain. I was assigned to the monitoring team out in the Oort Cloud, keeping eyes on one of the rebel groups among the miners. We had picked up rumors that they’d managed to get their hands on some military-grade equipment.”
Klaus snorted. “You don't say. I take it that these rebels are the reason we had such a bad day.” Then again, they'd certainly gotten the worse end of it. Klaus turned to Marius. “What happened to their ship, anyways?”
“We've got boarding crews picking through the ship. When they're done, I imagine they'll scuttle the wreck.”
Antoniy followed the ensign through a hatch which snapped open ahead of them. Much faster than the old doors on the Ad Astra, and quieter too. Klaus paused halfway through the opening, noting the large gap between the hatch and the bulkhead into which it retracted. Must be nearly two centimeters. Nodding, he continued through. It was a warship, he reminded himself, so that made sense. That much room meant the slab of reinforced steel was much less likely to jam open or closed if damaged in battle.
Up ahead, Antoniy continued, “I'd say you're correct. At any rate, my station manager figured nobody would watch a lowly grunt too closely, so he sent me back Earth-ward on the next tramp freighter to swing by.”
“And that just happened to be the Ad Astra.” Klaus nodded. The three men rounded another bend in the corridor. “Why didn't they just send a message? Seems like that would have been faster.”
“They must have thought that the rebels had our communications tapped, so if they sent a message that would just alert them. But if I went uncover as a sailor, nobody would notice.” Antoniy scowled. “But I figure they must have had the whole station's troop complement under surveillance, and guessed who I was when I left.” Antoniy shook his head. “What I can’t figure out is where a bunch of grimy rock-rats got the guts to come this far in-system. Or a ship which could take them this far without being spotted.”
Klaus smiled thinly. “I see Marine training still doesn't cover enough about spacecraft. Think about it: What do you get when you hollow out an asteroid, add life support and stick an engine on one end?”
“A suicidal deathtrap?”
“True enough.” Klaus laughed. The party paused at a cross-corridor, as a pair of maglev carts flew by. “But it'll get you from point A to B. Most of Earth’s early starships were built that way. And since it's still basically an asteroid, with most of the systems shut off it would just be another comet coming in-system from the Kuiper Belt.”
“I see. But what about those point-defense cannons they fired at us in your Raven?”
“Probably the same as are used to protect mining operations against debris kicked up. Anybody with determination and some technical skills could re-purpose them as weapons.”
“Ah. That didn’t occur to me. Makes sense, though.” responded Antoniy.
“What do they teach you at the Academy, then? What good is an officer out in deep space who doesn’t know the basics of starship design?”
“I signed up to lead strike teams, not poke through data like some fobbit. I’ll leave all that boring crap about spaceships to the Navy squids. Just give me dirt under my feet and a gun in my hand!”
Klaus snorted. They were millions of kilometers away from any 'dirt' which didn't require knowledge of vacuum operations to survive. “I see the jokes about ‘Marine Intelligence’ really do have something to them.”
"Who said anything about Intelligence?" began Antoniy, as ensign Marius halted before an unmarked door, holding up his hand to stop them. The junior officer tapped the intercom pad next to it. “Two to see the Captain.” The hatch opened, and the three men walked through.
They found themselves in a well-appointed anteroom, perhaps four meters on a side, paneling hiding the ship's dull metal. A leather couch was bolted to the carpeted floor, and Klaus was briefly tempted to rest, but they remained standing. An ornate door dominated the wall ahead, bright golden Navy insignia stood out from the deep-blue of the door itself.
After what felt like only half an eternity, the buzzer mounted by the guarded door sounded. A woman’s
voice with a slight Dixie twang spoke from it. “They check out. Send 'em in.”
The two halves of the door snapped aside, and air hissed out. They thought of everything, Klaus mused, even positive pressurization. He was used to positive pressure isolation in some of his old labs, but it seemed like overkill this deep inside a warship. Exactly what kind of threat were they guarding against, anyway?
Without a word, Antoniy walked through the opening, and Klaus followed. It closed behind them with an audible, deep 'thump' as pressure was restored. In front of them, behind a desk, sat the Captain. Blonde, athletic, mid-forties by Klaus' estimation.
She spoke first, voice matter-of-fact. “Gentlemen. Glad to see that you survived. I trust that my message arrived in time?”
What message? Klaus wracked his brain for a moment. Could she mean the one that only arrived after the Ad Astra was destroyed? That was really the only candidate.
He opened his mouth to ask, but Antoniy beat him to it. “Captain Conagher, ma'am. This is a long way to come to save a former student.”
"What?" Klaus blurted, too tired to think first. “Never mind, my ears must not be working today. Anyway, it's a good point. Not that I'm complaining, mind you — far from it — but how did the Navy know to be out here so quickly?"
Conagher steepled her fingers and said nothing, face impassive.
Klaus paced. "And with the Overlord, at that? Last I heard, she was still going through her trial runs in cislunar space. Trying to work the kinks out of that experimental new drive system, supposedly.”
Captain Conagher raised an eyebrow. “That new drive is supposed to be classified material, Mr...” she glanced pointedly at the display screen on her desk. She evidently knew who he was already, but then the Navy did teach a person to follow protocol. “...Ericsson – how did you come to hear of it?”
Oort Rising Page 4
