The Hyperion was just outside of the minimum safety distance from the primary star that would allow them to execute a “snap jump,” a maneuver CENTCOM still didn’t authorize but had been effectively demonstrated by both Celesta and Jackson Wolfe on multiple occasions. It was hard on the warp drive, but so was enemy weapons fire. Unfortunately, that option wasn’t available to the Icarus or she’d have already ordered them gone. They were too close to the primary star and the gravitational effect was enough that Fleet R&S eggheads had warned them that it could cause a fatal instability between their warp drive’s gravimetric distortion rings and string their individual molecules all across the system.
“Course plotted and locked in, Captain,” the chief at Nav said.
“Very well,” she said, still standing in the middle of the bridge. “Helm, execute course.”
“Coming about, aye. All engines still ahead flank,” the helmswoman said. “It’s going to be a little bumpy until we complete our turn.”
“It’s a fair tradeoff, Specialist,” Celesta said. “Running into a dozen plasma lances would be bumpier yet.”
Chapter 19
“Pike! What the hell are you doing in here?” Marcum snarled as the CIS agent walked in like he owned the place.
“It’s Aston Lynch,” Pike said. “Actually, it’s Mr. Lynch, Admiral, and I speak with the authority of the President.”
“Listen here, Lieutenant Colonel, you and I both know that you’re—”
“What you think you know is irrelevant.” Pike sat down without being offered a seat. “Admiral, you better get used to the idea that Aston Lynch is not only a real, legal human being, but that he’s been imbued with a certain amount of authority by President Augustus Wellington. As a part of the civilian oversight I have no particular awe of rank, even for the Chief of Staff and a Fleet Admiral.”
“Wellington will not always be there to protect you, Lieutenant Colonel,” Marcum said, refusing to use Pike’s alias. “Now … what can I do for you?”
“I’m just curious as to why you haven’t made an appointment to fill Wellington in on the latest that’s come out of Project Prometheus,” Pike said, looking at his fingernails. “The point-to-point drone did arrive a full day ago, did it not?”
Marcum froze and looked like he was actually breathing a bit harder.
“What … where did you hear that name? I have no idea—”
“Save it,” Pike held up a hand. “I just came back from the Pontiac and had a nice tour with Director Jackson Wolfe … even had a short conversation with the Cube.”
“I should have you detained right now for even speaking about this out loud on this station,” Marcum said slowly.
“And I should kill you where you sit for not informing the President about this project and then, to double down on stupid, sitting on information that is vital given that we have a full battlegroup steaming towards an engagement under false pretense.” Pike leaned forward.
“I don’t think this is the place for this discussion.” Marcum swallowed.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Marcum?” Pike hissed, now very animated. “Keeping something like that a secret from the Chief Executive? You know Wellington, how well do you think you’ll fare when he finds out about this? Oh … and move your hand away from that security button or I will make good on my threat. Who do you think you’re dealing with, Admiral? If your security detains me or kills me there’s already a full brief automatically ready to be transmitted to Wellington’s personal inbox.
“This is coming out whether you want it to or not. It’s what you’d call inevitability. Now, here’s how this can play out: You can go down to the planet with me and we’ll present this data to the President together, or I’ll have you arrested and I’ll tell him myself. Either way he has to be involved. I was willing to let this slide when it was a semi-interesting science project, but now ships and people are at risk because of your inaction. That I won’t tolerate.”
“Why give me the first option at all?” Marcum asked, no longer pretending to be ignorant of Prometheus.
“Let’s be clear: I don’t like you. I think you’re a slimy, back-stabbing, opportunistic piece of shit … but that doesn’t necessarily make you any different than anyone who would replace you,” Pike said. “Something about flag officers with ambition and serious character defects goes hand-in-hand, it would seem. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you opening fire on the Ares when Wolfe discovered The Ark while we were in a fight for our lives out on the Frontier.
“But you are a realist and a master strategist. As much as it kills me to say this, removing you would harm the Fleet and it looks like that’s something we can’t afford right now. You and Wellington have managed to drag us into another war we’re not ready for and you’ll do more good here than in a prison cell.”
Pike watched the conflict play across Marcum’s face. He’d actually intended to walk in and have the team of NOVAs he had waiting outside come in and take the admiral into custody and march him back out to the Broadhead in restraints. But the more he thought it through, the more he realized the damage to the morale of Starfleet he’d cause just for a few moments of sweet revenge.
“When do you want to do this?” Marcum finally asked. “And who’s going to lead the meeting?”
“Within the next two hours, and you can do the talking,” Pike said. “Wolfe sent us both the same message, even though it was addressed to you, so we’re on the same page.”
“Wolfe,” Marcum said as if the name caused him physical pain.
“Don’t be too hard on the director, Admiral,” Pike shrugged. “He’s not a great follower of orders but I don’t think we can deny his loyalty or his results. We’ll take my ship down to the surface. I’ll give you an hour to make yourself presentable.” Without waiting for an answer, Pike stood and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.
He could have handled that a bit more diplomatically, but given his original plan that was the best he could do. He hadn’t been exaggerating about his feeling towards Marcum; he despised the man and had hoped the Senate would have put him out to pasture once the oversight committee caught wind of what he and the former President were up to on that secret planet, The Ark. But then the Senate dissolved and Marcum was spared the embarrassment of an early retirement only to not learn his lesson and continue playing little games while wolves were at the door and scratching. Unfortunately, this time he wasn’t so sure they hadn’t gone out looking for the wolves and then led them into the house.
“Is everything okay, sir?” Commander Amiri Essa asked. The NOVA team leader and his men were dressed in what Pike liked to call tactical chic … casual civilian clothes that they still oddly managed to make look like a uniform.
Amiri Essa had been refusing promotions in order to remain with his people. The NOVA teams were CENTCOM’s highly skilled Special Forces that nobody in their right mind wanted to tangle with. Essa had been instrumental in helping Pike and Jackson Wolfe during the end of the Phage War, and they’d all remained loose friends.
“We’re good,” Pike nodded. “The admiral has seen the light and will be accompanying me to the surface of his own volition.”
“You need us to be on the ship for escort detail?” Essa asked.
“Amiri, I think I can handle one nearly senior citizen officer,” Pike said in a pained voice.
“Just making the offer.” Essa shrugged. “You agents are notoriously soft and you’ve been playing President’s Secretary for the last few years.”
“The day I need some sloped forehead, knuckle-dragging NOVAs for help with one old man will be the day I toss myself out an airlock,” Pike shot back. Essa and his men just laughed at the good-natured back and forth.
“Take it easy, buddy,” Essa said, walking past the agent.
“You too,” Pike said. “What do they have you doing these days?”
“Classified,” Essa said, turning to wink.
Pike just
shook his head and waited for Marcum to emerge from his office, hopefully with a fresh shave and uniform, so they could go down and make a very uncomfortable report to what was likely to be a very pissed-off President Wellington.
****
“That makes four targets that have jumped in behind us, ma’am,” Adler said.
“Can we detect any other Terran vessels in the system?” Celesta asked, her voice giving away just how exhausted she was.
“No, ma’am,” Accari answered. “We’ve recovered four of our Jacobsons, destroyed the rest, and no other Terran ships appear to still be operating within the system.”
“Shut down the Link,” Celesta ordered. “Let’s start going quiet. I want active sensors still, but shut down all the telemetry broadcasts, beacons, and transponders.”
“Aye, ma’am,” Accari said. The young officer had been on the bridge for almost all of the battle after the Darshik had sprung their ambush, but he showed no signs the stress or fatigue were getting to him. He was as crisp and precise as when he’d first come on duty, and Celesta was imminently thankful for that. Even though he was only an ensign everyone knew his service record, and even officers that outranked him tried to emulate him.
The Icarus was flying a shallow arc to get around the primary star, and now that they were relatively close to the Class G2 main sequence yellow dwarf it seemed the Darshik weren’t able to keep trying to jump in to close the gap between them. Celesta had been operating under the premise that the intrasystem jumps were just a more accurate version of their own warp transitions and that the enemy would be hesitant to perform them down closer to the star. Her theory had so far been proven correct as the enemy had tried three different times to jump in close behind, one time forcing her to launch a salvo of Hornets to give them something to think about while they escaped.
While the small jumps were an enormous tactical advantage for the enemy, their ships didn’t appear to be able to overtake the Icarus in real-space. That gave them some small window to take a breath and think, but Celesta knew that once they came out the other side of their arc and headed back up the well towards Epsilon jump point that the Darshik would be able to get ahead of them and lie in wait. Then all she would be able to do was try and dodge their plasma weapons while fighting her way up to a safe range from the star to transition.
“OPS, go ahead and prepare a com drone for immediate deployment,” Celesta said. “Include the complete ship’s log since transitioning into this system as well as the sensor and com records. When Flight OPS gives you the ready signal, get it moving back through the Juwel jump point.”
“You think they’re setting a trap up ahead of us?” Barrett asked.
“It’s their only course of action,” she said, nodding. “They can’t keep up with their subluminal drives so they have to try and coordinate their forces with intrasystem jumps and have them in place when we come around the star. They’ll have plenty of warning and we won’t be able to deviate too much if we want to hit the jump point before being swarmed.”
“It’s unfortunate we got ourselves trapped so far down in the system,” Barrett said. “It’s going to be another thirteen hours before we begin to put distance on the primary star again; perhaps we should rotate the bridge crew out for a short rest before we make the final push to try and leave the system.”
“Make it happen, XO.”
“Go get some sleep, Captain,” Barrett said quietly. “I relieve you.”
“You have the bridge, Mr. Barrett,” Celesta said before walking out the hatchway. She’d come to trust Barrett’s judgement in such matters and if he was firmly telling her she needed to get some rest, she needed to get some rest. He took his responsibility to the ship and crew very seriously and he would not sit by while a stubborn captain endangered the vessel or the mission because she was too prideful to ask for a relief watch.
In almost every measurable metric Commander Barrett was a more effective executive officer than she herself had been while serving under Jackson Wolfe. He wasn’t ready for command yet, but when he was he would be a force to be reckoned with. Now all she had to do was keep him alive long enough so that he could realize his full potential.
Chapter 20
“Lieutenant Commander,” Celesta nodded to the relief watch as she walked back onto the bridge after a fitful sleep that didn’t last nearly as long as she would have liked. “Please report.”
“All quiet, Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Washburn said as she gracefully unlimbered her tall frame from the command chair. “We’ve been actively tracking all targets. Three made intrasystem jumps and have been reacquired on radar along our plotted course. They are currently out of weapons range. Two targets are still pursuing us but are slowly losing ground.”
“They’re just there to keep us honest,” Celesta said. “Keep us from doubling back again and going silent to try and sneak our way out. Have there been any further attempts at communication from them or the Ushin?”
“No, ma’am,” Washburn said. “The com has been silent the entire watch. Medical called up and asked me to inform you that all crewmembers injured during the initial engagement have all been cleared to return to duty.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” Celesta said. “Sign out on the log and then consider yourself relieved. Will you be going off duty?”
“No, ma’am.” Washburn signed her final ship’s log entry and signed out of the terminal. “I’m in the middle of my shift. I will be returning to CIC.”
Celesta didn’t answer as she walked the bridge, looking over all the individual stations and checking over the tactical threat board that was constantly updating on the main display. The data was hours old, but it was obvious that the Darshik intended a fairly basic deployment that would array their ships out along an arc perpendicular to her current course. They had no way to know that she wanted to get to the space directly behind them, so they weren’t committing fully just yet, hanging back and keeping enough distance to react to any moves she made.
The major disadvantage the Darshik had was they seemed to heavily favor that plasma lance. When it hit a Terran ship the results were inevitable as their hulls couldn’t withstand that sort of abuse, but it was also extremely limited in range. More importantly, her laser cannons could begin cutting through their hull much sooner than their plasma could do to hers, but when you factored in six ships ahead of them the equation became much more convoluted.
Without the RDS the Icarus was fairly close in subluminal performance to what they’d seen from the Darshik cruisers with a slight edge in acceleration and speed. The enemy’s intrasystem jumps were unpredictable and a major strategic advantage for them, but she’d began to understand the limitations of the maneuver and was able to somewhat counteract that. The major problem she had was that past the Epsilon jump point her plan was based on nothing. CIS had verified the path to the second supposed Ushin system was clear, but they’d done next to zero reconnaissance of the system itself, CENTCOM not wanting to risk losing the element of surprise and still trusting the Ushin intel.
No matter how she looked at it, they were going to have to run the blockade and push through to the only logical exit point left to them. Trying to circle the system again and hit their original jump point was not an option. The longer she gave the Darshik to plan and organize against her, the less likely it would be for the Icarus to make it out of the system in one piece.
“Tactical, have your backshop run a full test on the armament,” she said, turning away from the main display. “One system at a time, and make sure the munitions shop goes in and does one more operational check on our expendables. Not just the missiles either; I want the auto-mag shells given a visual check.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” Adler said as she sat at her station. “Sending instructions now.”
“OPS, inform Engineering I want a comprehensive report on all other ship’s systems,” Celesta continued. “Have Commander Graham’s people interface with the com sho
ps and Flight OPS to make sure their equipment is good to go. We have six hours before potential combat and I want her ready for anything.”
Her commands set off a flurry of activity below decks, and no insignificant amount of grumbling and complaining about “busy work.” She wasn’t just trying to keep her crew distracted, however, as the ship had taken a direct hit by a very powerful weapon. While the damage appeared to be contained to the aft sections, it was simply prudence to make sure there were no surprises waiting for her when the time came for the Icarus to fight.
As it turned out, problems began cropping up much sooner than she’d expected. Not even two hours into the ordered systems check it was discovered that the power system had been compromised and that had they tried to fire the auto-mag or the forward laser batteries it would have likely blown out several junctions on the primary power bus, and the secondary bus wasn’t capable of allowing both weapons to be fired simultaneously. Apparently when the RDS pod was hit, and subsequently jettisoned, there was damage to junctions where the powerplant fed into the MUX. Commander Graham gave her a running estimate on repairs and it looked like everything would be buttoned up and tested well before she assumed they’d need them. There was considerably less complaining about the workload below decks as the rest of the checkouts were performed.
“All departments have checked in,” Barrett said from the OPS station where he was conferring with Ensign Accari. “Power MUX is back to one hundred percent and no other problems were detected during the system tests. Armament has signed off on the forward weapons systems after doing an internal operational checkout, but the chief down there wants permission to do a live fire test.”
“Denied.” Celesta shook her head. “While we’re closing head-to-head with the enemy, firing the forward laser batteries would be giving a bit too much information about our power and frequency output.”
“I’ll tell him, ma’am,” Barrett said. “Loop-back dummy-load tests all checked good, so we know the MUX can handle the current to the projectors. I’ll have them button it all back up and get their people out of the forward compartments.”
New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1) Page 20
