Less than zero (RN: Book 1)
Page 4
Never having conceived of the AI reversing the connection, the bandits watched helplessly as the Victoria locked them out of every system as it scanned their data banks for anything there was on her one known enemy. Once it had learnt all it could, the AI reversed the power flow to bleed the frigate of every kilowatt before severing the connection to leave it an impudent hulk dragging alongside.
In less than a millisecond, the Victoria had used this new information to run hundreds of scenarios before selecting the one possible solution that might kill via primary contact, but would certainly damage via collateral affect. With no ability to train her guns the solution was a long shot in every sense of the meaning, but if the enemy continued on its curving course then the possibility existed.
Deep within her number one turret rams pushed, gears turned and heavy chains snatched into motion as a hoist raised its two tonne cargo from below. The flickering blue glow of an electric arc appeared within her one functional barrel, with the orphaned spark quickly growing to become a blazing cyclone of electrical energy as the AI committed many a broadside’s worth of power into this one final act.
***
The Bristol’s the over-driven auxiliary engines flared, with the rose tinted exhaust punching through the last of the six pearlescent shield bands and stretching half her length as she accelerated toward the gate point. The gunship’s structure groaned from the undamped forces that shook the hull, with the darkened bridge alive from the rattling and chattering of floor grates and loose equipment as the unrelieved stress of rocket acceleration urged her forward.
With the gravity rotors slowing, the g-forces made themselves evident and Canthouse gripped the command chair as he swayed from the reduced gravity and acceleration. The bridge shook and rattled around him as he watched the shrinking distance to the gate point on the tactical display. “C’mon, c’mon,” he cried as he thumped the arm of the chair to urge the struggling gunboat ever forward,
Stavener stared intently at his display as he counted down the chemical fuel reserves, “Eighty seven; eighty five; eighty one. Jesus, LC, she’s chewing through the fuel.”
“How far?”
“Four fifty, four hundred, three fifty ...
O’Dean palmed the manual throttle against its limiter in an attempt to coax more from the straining engines.
“Set destination as Trent station and begin the gate sequence now. I want the engines spooled when we get there.”
ding ding
The first officer side glanced to Stavener, “What is i –“
“Oh, Hell!” Stavener cried, his eyes wide with fear. “The Victoria -she’s firing!”
***
Somewhere on the Victoria a final code sequence executed and a relay closed. The projectile and turret atomised in an instant with the dreadnought’s entire hull collapsing as if sucked inward by a black hole. Where the Queen Victoria had been the fabric of space dipped and then heaved to wrench open like a deific eye, which briefly stared into this universe before the retina expanded into a magma filled blister as what lay behind attempted to burst through to this side. Yet the local fabric prevailed with the eye snapping shut in a titanic release of energy that compressed the FTL drive to a quarter of its original volume, and triggering instant fusion, The two events compounded into a single cataclysmic detonation that rent a great boiling portal in the fabric of space, with trillions of tonnes of red hot material ejected into this universe from the next. The portal lasted but the briefest of instants before staggering local forces crushed it like an air pocket, with a shattering energy release equal to hundreds of supernovas buckling the local fabric and sterilising space for billions of kilometres in every direction.
What few atoms of the Victoria’s projectile that did survive the initial collapse were shot gunned toward the fleeing gunship at relativistic speeds, with two of the atoms entering the gate portal as it folded behind the Bristol to send her out of the frying pan and into the fire.
The final word
This is my first attempt at writing and publishing anything, and despite the grammatical vigilance of myself, my editor and the beta readers, problems do slip through the cracks. So if you do spot something, or if you just want to pass a note in general, I’d appreciate it if you could drop me a line at delinquentscribe@gmail.com, or use the contact us form at the RN website www.delinquentscribe.com.
Thanks for taking the time to read this book.
D. Gunner
Contacts and information
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Cover art
Ronell D Porter
www.ronnelldporter.wix.com/design
Editor
Lee Burton
www.oceansedgeediting.com