Silent Running (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 3)

by PJ Strebor

  He rested his hands gently on her shoulders.

  “That, my friend, is what I mean by growing the fuck up.”

  Moe swallowed a lump in her throat.

  “So, hate the regime but not the people?” Moe asked.

  “Yep.”

  “I thought Odenwald was the exception,” Moe said. “They’re basically civilians shanghaied into military service, but your crew are career military. I thought there would be a difference.”

  “There is one difference.” Nathan smiled. “No women aboard this boat.”

  They both chuckled.

  “All right, I get it,” Moe said. “Play nice with the square heads.”

  “We’ll be going into combat with those square heads in a couple of days. Ernst Ryden and you had better learn to work together real bloody fast if we all want to survive this mission. So get your shit together, Captain.”

  He playfully nudged her shoulder.

  “Right,” Nathan said, “you feeling hungry?”

  “Yeah, what’ve you got.”

  Nathan opened a heating cabinet. The smell made Moe’s mouth water.

  “Disgusting,” she said.

  “Apparently Petty Officer Blass has a mother, who made this for him when he was a lad.”

  “I never thought of Pruessens having mothers,” Moe said. “I assumed they were all raised by wolves.”

  “Behave yourself, Moe. You’ll be dining with Ernst and me, so get used to it quickly.”

  He keyed his external comm. “Ernst, care for some dinner?”

  The Pruessen stepped into the room and stood facing the two Athenians.

  “Commander Ernst Ryden, Acting Captain Moe Bradman.”

  A brief delay before Moe held out her hand. “Commander,” she said.

  He shook her hand. “Captain.”

  “I don’t know about you two,” Nathan said, “but I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”

  “I wouldn’t let the cook hear you say that or you might get your wish,” Ryden said.

  To Moe the situation felt bizarre. Oh, well, in for a penny in for a pound, as the Brets say.

  CHAPTER 81

  Date: 12th January, 327 ASC.

  Position: Planet Lucifer, outer marker. League of Allied Worlds space.

  The plan was in play. Adroit, E 692 and three Kamoras set a course to the O-M on the opposite side of the planet. With Captain Garner’s three squadrons following, four hours behind them. Both units would transit through hyper to the inner marker, then stay under stealth for seven hours whilst they positioned for attack. By matching the speeds of all warships involved they hoped to be in weapons range of the enemy force at the same time. Garner and her ships hitting them bow on with Adroit and E 692 sneaking in from astern.

  The one sticking point remained. Nathan. If Doctor Jahn’s attempt to hide his consciousness failed and Saxon sensed him, the entire mission would turn into a debacle. Nathan had considered sitting out the mission. Moe, Ryden and Garner were good at their jobs. From a logical viewpoint he shouldn’t be on this mission. However, part of him knew, with an odd type of certainty, that his presence would be needed.

  “Give me a moment, doc,” Nathan said to Jahn.

  He stepped from the briefing room onto E 692’s bridge.

  “Commander.”

  Ryden turned from the helm. “Yes, Captain.”

  “The boat is yours.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Best of luck to you all,” Nathan said.

  He stepped back into the briefing room then turned right into the captain’s cabin. Nathan lay face down on his rack.

  “Anytime you’re ready, Luther.”

  The hiss of the hypo, then piece by piece his mind dissolved into a dark nothingness.

  ***

  Orson rested on his bunk aboard the light carrier E 778. He was a well-satisfied man. Tomorrow, two more battleships would arrive from the north giving his fleet an unassailable advantage over the Cimmerians. His fleet would fall against their outnumbered opponents like a black wave of death. No witnesses would remain after the attack and Telford would be his.

  He snorted at the thought of Telford. Four days ago he’d tried snooping around the fleet. Saxon had seen to it that he would not try that again. He could imagine Telford still writhing in pain after the mauling he’d received. That thought brought a cruel smile to Orson’s face.

  As a precaution, he reached out with his senses every so often but no sign of danger appeared. The Cimmerians would be mad to attempt to attack a force of this size and even the senior Pruessen naval officers felt relaxed and ready for the forthcoming battle. It would be brief and decisive. Yes, everything was falling into place nicely.

  ***

  From Adroit’s combat sphere Moe noted that Commander Ryden kept E 692 locked into formation off her starboard beam. Although leery about going into combat with a Pruessen as her wing man, Nathan described Ryden as not only an experienced combat professional but also a totally trustworthy man. Nathan, ever the skeptic with regard to anything Pruessen, trusted this man, and that would always be good enough for her.

  For seven hours the two boats had closed with the enemy, who now showed clearly on her bow holo-panels. The number and size of the armada staggered the senses and at any moment they could be spotted, and then all hell would break loose. So far, so good.

  The two stealth boats had cut all engine power two hours ago and by judicious use of their stern mag plating had maintained their forward speed without increasing the chances of detection. As an added precaution none of the attack force had their shields activated.

  Captain Garner had offered three of her Kamoras for the attack. Nathan politely declined the offer. They were fine boats but way too big for the task. Although stealth like, they could not match either E692’s or Adroit’s stealth capability.

  Ahead a patrolling E boat crossed their flight path. Moe had to use a tiny push from her upper mag plating to avoid colliding with it. She held her breath as the two boats passed one another. So far that had been the only near contact with an enemy warship. It occurred to Moe that the enemy’s unimaginable lack of preparedness was due to an old failing. So massive a fleet had been assembled that they feared nothing. After all, who would dare to attack such an formidable armada?

  In time they passed through the patrolling E boats, under the destroyers and were currently slipping past the heavy cruisers. Ahead, their primary target grew in size as they closed the range. Disable the battleships and Cimmeria stood a chance of surviving. Swoop in, take out their engines then run for the I-M. That was the plan, but in the pandemonium of combat plans change.

  “Captain,” Grace said from the tactical station, “you’re not going to believe this, but the battleships are on alert three. Their shields are at minimal.”

  Yeah, plans change.

  ***

  “Captain,” Kamora ten’s T-O said, “the battleships shields are at minimal.”

  “Really?” Captain Garner whispered. They’re at the hub of a huge armada surround by squadrons of covering ships. An attack of this audacity wouldn’t enter to their square head minds. “First Officer, flash feed comm to all squadrons. Slow to one-half speed on my mark.”

  Telford’s boats should almost be on top of them by now. I won’t alert the enemy by commencing my attack just yet.

  “Standing by, Captain,” her first officer said.

  “Mark.”

  ***

  The attacking force were surrounded by enemy vessels, some so close Moe swore she’d be able to reach out and touch them. At this range Moe couldn’t risk using the comms even on flash feed. The battleships loomed ahead, a standard line-abreast formation. With tiny increments of mag maneuvering, she positioned her boat to attack the outermost ship in the formation’s port side.

  To her starboard the E boat positioned itself to the far end of the formation readying to attack the starboard-most battleship. Yes, Ryden knew his stuff. Both stealth vessels ha
d been steadily dropping speed for the attack.

  The enemy warship’s keel looked mightily inviting to Moe. Her armor would be thick but not strong enough to repel six, sixty-megatonne pulsar warheads. Moe didn’t wish to announce her presence so would take the shot without a proper lock on. She knew the location of her engineering section and only one pulsar head needed to hit the ship’s reactor.

  Closing range Adroit bucked as the six torpedoes tore from her tubes. Moe grinned as she saw Ryden firing at the same time. The allied vessels broke away and fled from the blast zone. The chain reaction was as they had hoped for. The outer most capital ships exploded with spectacular force. Then, one after another, the other three heavy units exploded, taking a few nearby cruisers with them.

  ***

  Nathan gasped as he emerged from his self-imposed prison and back to consciousness. His head ached through to the back of his eyes. He rolled onto his back and just wanted to sleep. The boat lurched to port so violently that Doctor Jahn was thrown against a bulkhead. He recovered and hovered over the rack as Nathan stood. As agreed, Jahn had revived him as soon as the first shot had been fired.

  “Name, rank,” Doctor Jahn asked.

  “Nelson, Admiral,” Nathan replied irritably.

  Jahn sucked his cheeks in and frowned. “I need to examine you.”

  “Later. Get your helmet on, doctor.”

  Nathan took his position on the bridge dropping into the vacant captain’s chair. He scrolled through the images washing across his screen and grinned.

  “What the hell happen, Werner?”

  “They had their shields at station-keeping, so,” his X-O’s grin matched Nathan’s. “The Cimmerians are giving the cruisers a fearsome time.”

  Nathan examined his readouts and shook his head in wonder. No sight of the E boats but the destroyers were slowly getting organized. Nathan keyed his comm.

  “Allied vessels, this is Vogel. An outstanding day’s work people, but it’s time to skedaddle before the destroyers get our range.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain Vogel,” Garner said.

  “Disengaging now,” Moe said.

  The rout was complete. Six battleships destroyed and most of the heavy cruisers destroyed or badly damaged. The attacking force had not sustained a single casualty. Still they had to get out of range of the destroyers or that could change. He stepped to the helm.

  “I see you’ve managed to struggle by without my assistance,” Nathan said.

  “We got lucky,” Ryden said. “The boat is yours, Captain.”

  “Acknowledged. Do you mind?” Nathan indicated the helm.

  “Now I have nothing to do again.”

  “You’ve done more than enough for one day, Ernst.”

  Nathan could have sat in the captain’s chair but something didn’t feel right and when that happened he preferred to be at the helm. Saxon lingered at the edge of his consciousness. Nathan had learned to detect that much at least.

  Through his view hood he saw Adroit come about smartly and head for the I-M. Destroyers couldn’t match their speed. As soon as they cleared their range nothing could stop them from safely escaping.

  Nathan reached out tentatively with his senses. Yes, Saxon was there but appeared to be in a passive state. He put Saxon out of his mind and followed the other warships toward the inner marker.

  ***

  “I have him,” Orson said. “Captain Coppins, we are the closest boat to him so order all E boats to follow our lead.”

  “Not necessary, Commander,” Coppins said. “When our destroyers get his range he’s dead.”

  “No Coppins, I want him alive,” he hissed into the captain’s face. “Those are my orders and now they’re yours. Now, Captain, or I’ll get someone who can.”

  “Very well, sir, but the rest of my boats are spread out all around the fleet. If those other enemy ships turn back to assist him, we’ll be on our own against sixteen heavily-armed warships.”

  “Good,” Orson said. “Then after we capture him the destroyers can deal with them.”

  Coppins sighed. “Heading, sir?”

  “That way,” he said, pointing forward and off to port.

  “Helm, all ahead flank on course one four seven. Tactical we’re looking for a rogue E boat. Find it.”

  ***

  Nathan needed flank speed to escape with the other allied warships. He had both throttles pushed to the red line but the boat didn’t respond.

  “Damage control,” Nathan said.

  “Lieutenant Schenk here, Captain.”

  “I’m not getting flank speed,” Nathan said.

  “Sorry sir, I’ve just checked it out and was about to contact you,” the DCO said. “The starboard engine took a hit during the battle. It’s working but I can only give you two-thirds on that engine.”

  “Any chance of repairing it?”

  “Not without a repair facility, sir.”

  “Very well. Bridge out.”

  “Skipper,” Willet said from the tactical station, “I have a ghost image closing fast from astern. It’s there one second, gone the next. It could be an E boat, sir.”

  “Understood.” Nathan had been sensing the danger for the last minute. From the strength of the sensation it wasn’t a standard Pruessen attack boat. Saxon was on that boat but not Reinhardt. Nathan wanted to kill him so badly he ached. Would they launch fighters? Did they still want him alive? The enemy boat, probably a light carrier, was larger so less maneuverable, but faster. If he continued to flee it would run him down, disable his boat and send marines aboard.

  He worked the problem but even the most optimistic tactics involved great risk. Time to take a chance on them still wanting me in one piece. He keyed his comm.

  “Senior Engineer, Captain.”

  “Bessel.”

  “Commander, shortly I’m going to ask you to scram the reactor. Don’t ask why, just do it.”

  “Yes, Captain. Whatever you’re planning I hope it works.”

  “Yeah, me too. Bridge out.”

  “Krause, Captain.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Shortly, Werner, I’m going to order you to drop our shields. Except for our stern shields. Understood.”

  “Understood, Captain.” His tone indicated an overpowering urge to ask the obvious question. Nathan cut the comm.

  “Kellerman, Captain.”

  “Aye, skipper.”

  “Are you and Hoppe ready to party.”

  “Hoppe’s just about foaming at the mouth. Just give the word, skip.”

  “Very well.”

  Right, hot shot, try not to get this crew killed.

  ***

  “He’s coming about, Captain,” E 778’s T-O said. “I think he’s attacking us.”

  “Then he’s a damn fool,” Captain Coppins said. “Helm, take out his weapons.”

  “Pulsar fire only,” Orson insisted.

  The helmsman checked with Coppins, who nodded. The captain knew what would happen to him and his crew if he disobeyed.

  “I can’t get a lock-on, sir,” the helm said. “His IFF transponder is blocking me. Switching to manual.”

  E 778 raked the charging enemy warship tearing her from bow to stern. The enemy fired back adopting the same tactic.

  Then Telford made a mistake. He passed directly over E 788’s weapons, exposing his keel. Pulsar fire ripped into his boat. She fell past, bleeding a trail of detritus and vapor.

  “Got him!” the helm shouted.

  “T-O, scan him,” Coppins ordered.

  “Scanning, Captain. Most of his shields are down and his reactor has scrammed. He looks to be dead in the water.”

  “Prepare marines to take her in one piece,” Coppins told his first officer. “And launch fighters to keep an eye on her.”

  Orson smiled.

  ***

  “Schenk,” Nathan said, “how badly are we hurt?”

  “The keel is punctured in twenty-three places,” he said, grunting as he wor
ked on repairs. “The boat’s open to space in sections five through thirty-eight. Good thing we’re all using the officer’s mess, the enlisted mess is fried. Cargo bay three is also open to space.”

  “Very well.”

  “Captain,” Willet said, “the E boat has opened their boat bay hatch. I think they’re preparing to launch fighters. Their shields are still up. Hold. A fighter is moving into launch position.”

  “Very well.” Nathan cut his comm and brought up his stern feeds. “That’s right, fuckers, fighters first then send in the marines.”

  “SMC, give me an open channel to the boat.”

  “Yes, Captain. Channel open.”

  “Everyone stand ready,” Nathan said. They were a good, hard, experienced crew. They knew what he expected of them.

  Nathan reached out with his senses. Any second now. He squared up the boat, the fighter squarely in his stern gun sights.

  “Now,” Nathan said.

  Nathan followed the action on his board. Krause, raised the shields and opened the landing bay hatch. Kellerman and Hoppe were waiting. So were their two heavy duty L 50 pulsars. They fired twin beams of destruction into the enemy landing bay and the waiting fighter. It exploded ripping the stern of the carrier open to space.

  In the few seconds of frantic combat, his bow weapons came back online as well as the reactor.

  “Come on, come on.” Nathan rapped his knuckles against his console.

  “That should have taken out her engineering deck,” Ryden said.

  The landing bay sat directly above engineering. Somehow the explosion blew out rather than in.

  “Oh, for god’s sake,” Ryden said. “The reinforced landing bay must have saved her.”

  “Captain,” Willett said, “we have another enemy boat coming into range.”

  Nathan shook his head. “X-O, close the hatch.”