by Ian Whates
"Captain."
Kethi looked up, still not fully accustomed to being called that. "Yes?" It was Simon who had spoken, from his station monitoring the sensors. She was grateful he'd remembered her rank this time, even though she nearly failed to.
"Nothing, sorry," he said with typical awkwardness. "I thought I saw... but it doesn't matter."
Simon had his faults, not least his forlorn devotion to her, but he wasn't stupid. "Thought you saw what?"
"A faint energy signal, but it was really faint, barely even there, and now it's gone completely, so probably no more than ambient..."
"Show me." She hurried over to where he sat staring at the projection hanging in the air in front of his station.
He moved his good hand deftly over the controls and Kethi saw it - a slight blip, too insignificant to be called a spike. But all sorts of energy and particles were floating around out here. She might just have caught a distant echo of a star's death or a planet's birth... or maybe not.
"Weaponry, prepare to bracket these co-ordinates with anything and everything you can bring to bear - a sustained burst in a wide fan. Acknowledge when ready. Helm, I want maximum acceleration on my mark."
There was no reason for them to hang around. The transmitter had sent them the data packages they'd come to retrieve scant seconds before. She hoped to goodness this wasn't what she thought it might be. If not, they'd have wasted a few munitions and everyone could laugh at her jumpiness; if so... embarrassment would be a small price to pay, given the alternative. Kethi remembered all too well what had happened to The Noise Within.
"Ready," the gunnery officer confirmed.
No point in delaying. "Fire."
The pulse and other energy weapons produced no recoil, of course, but she fancied she could feel through the soles of her feet the slight vibration of multiple missile launches and rail guns discharging.
All eyes were on the display floating centrally above the bridge, which showed the fan of their munitions spreading outwards from the ship's recently vacated position, a cone of death seeking a target. Nothing as yet, and Kethi dared hope that she'd been wrong and they would all soon be able to relax and laugh about the whole incident.
Five seconds, that was all she felt able to risk, counting them down in her head before calling, "Cease fire. Helm, go! Give me everything."
"Energy signatures," somebody yelled, an instant before the projections showed the same. "Multiple drives, all around us."
Damn! So much for hope. "How many?"
"Nine."
"Contact!" gunnery called out unnecessarily. Everybody could see the bright twinkle of something being hit which the monitors hadn't even known was there brief seconds before. "And another."
Two down, caught within their initial blind blanket burst. That still left seven, which was too many; far too many. "Stations, everyone," Kethi belatedly signalled the rest of the crew. "The ship is under attack."
Leyton was sitting and nattering with Joss and Wicks in the rec room when the announcement came. He'd been spending quite a bit of his spare time here since the raid on Sheol, almost as if he felt more able to relax once that was out of the way. He'd taken quite a liking to a thick, syrupy fruit drink they served at the bar. Doubtless reconstituted from stored pulps but it still tasted fresh and tangy with citrus and it wasn't too sweet. According to Wicksy the place also served a couple of decent beers but, though Leyton was more than capable of downing a few when in the mood, he'd never especially liked the taste of beer. In his youth he'd drunk because his friends did and because he enjoyed the bonding experience of getting hammered with them, but an implant kindly provided by Aunty ULAW when he'd first been selected for black-ops had put paid to that. It neutralised the alcohol before it had a chance to reach his bloodstream. After years of practice Leyton had imitating drunkenness down to a fine art, but inebriation itself was an escape forever denied him. So he now chose his drinks primarily on the basis of taste rather than their alcohol content, and went for fruit drinks more often than not.
Joss and Wicksy were good company. She had an acerbic wit when the mood took her, while he was a born storyteller who spun a seemingly endless stream of colourful yarns about his exploits both in port and in space. Joss, who presumably had been present for many of them, tended to give him the floor, looking on with a tolerant smile and a twinkle in her eye. Leyton couldn't quite figure out whether these two were a couple, really tight friends, or simply buddies who occasionally slept together, but there was a definite connection - the sort of thing he'd always believed that he and Mya shared. Unfortunately, recent events had convinced him that any link had disappeared long ago, at least as far as she was concerned. Not that they'd parted on bad terms, far from it - a hug, a smile, words of thanks - but her leaving aboard The Retribution had come as something of a relief, even if he'd never dream of admitting as much to anyone.
Perhaps this was what he'd needed. Perhaps now he could finally accept that it was over and move on, find somebody else.
"So there I was," Wicksy said, winding up to the punch line of another story, "with one arm around his girlfriend's shoulders and the other round his sister's waist, when..."
"Stations everyone," Kethi's crisp tones interrupted. "The ship is under attack."
All sound in the room ceased. For a frozen second everybody stared at everybody else; except for Leyton, who was first to his feet. His movement broke the spell and silence gave way to the sound of pounding feet hitting the floor as those present left their seats and headed for the door.
"Luck," Wicksy called over his shoulder as he turned left towards engineering. Leyton and Joss went in the opposite direction, making for the bridge. In theory, Leyton supposed he should head for his personal quarters, since he didn't have a station to report to, but he had to know what was going on.
The ship shuddered. Joss stumbled a little and turned towards him. "Hey, did the earth just move for you?" She looked nervous and it occurred to him that, as the captain of a tramp miner eking out a living from the scraps to be found around various asteroid belts, she might never have been in a real combat situation before. The odd bar room brawl perhaps, but nothing like this.
The next jolt hit them almost immediately and was far more violent; the whole ship seemed to spasm. It nearly knocked Leyton off his feet and was enough to send Joss staggering. She reached out, pressing one hand against the wall for support. No question this time; the ship was definitely taking a beating.
"Don't worry, this is a good ship," he felt compelled to say. "It'll take more than this to knock her down."
She didn't look convinced.
The bridge was built in one of the most heavily shielded parts of the vessel. This, the command centre of The Rebellion, consisted of a circular transparent disc that floated a little way off the floor, currently surrounded by an array of projected displays which undoubtedly meant something to the dozen men and women who occupied the work stations arranged around the disc's circumference. Each and every one of whom had their eyes glued to the images, the details of which were changing and evolving constantly.
"Any joy penetrating their cloaking?" Kethi asked.
"Negative." The answer came from a girl who didn't look or sound to be yet out of her teens. For all her youth she performed her duties with assurance and determination - her attention never wavered from the screens in front of her while her fingers darted across a light-display keyboard. "It's unlike anything I've seen before and I can't get a handle on it."
The off-duty bridge crew had started to arrive, strapping themselves into the upright crash couches that were arranged along the approach to the bridge, ready to step up if any of the currently active officers were incapacitated or killed. Joss already occupied the foremost. Not being part of the crew, Leyton didn't join them but instead stood at the foot of the half dozen stairs that led up to the bridge. He didn't go any further, appreciating the dedication and concentration of those involved and determined not to be
a distraction. So he contended himself with hovering at the threshold.
Images appeared and disappeared in the air, while graphics scrolled across in front of one work station and then another. At the very hub of the disc stood the command chair, capable of swivelling through 360 degrees, but Kethi chose not to occupy the seat at present, instead prowling around the floor of the bridge, her eyes focused on a display projected onto the transparency beneath her feet.
"Another one down!" That from Simon, an individual Leyton would never have had on the crew in the first place, were it up to him. Nothing to do with the lad's crippled hand or his puppy-like devotion to their new captain, but everything to do with his flightiness and immaturity. In Leyton's opinion the combination made him unreliable and totally unsuited to a combat situation, as witness his triumphant call just now, compared with the professionalism of everyone else.
"It's working, bracketing the positions from which their fire originates is bringing results," a far calmer voice observed.
"Yes, but not quickly enough," Kethi responded. "Engine room, how soon before we're able to jump?"
There was no reply.
"The incoming attacks have been targeting the engines," another of the crew supplied. "That section of the ship has taken the heaviest fire and the worst damage."
"A new contact, ma'am, something big emerging from the shadow of the fourth planet. Looks like a ULAW warship."
"Helm, reroute everything to your board and give me a status report." Kethi snapped.
"Done, ma'am. Engines are not at full capacity but still functioning. We've got enough to jump."
"Good. Navigation, set coordinates for fallback point, and let's get the hell out of here."
Brief seconds later helm said calmly, "Jump initiated, ma'am."
Everything changed. The large projections which had surrounded the bridge during combat slowly winked out, all bar the main one, which displayed its usual blank serenity. The vibration of weapons discharge and the jolt of damage being sustained ceased, and Leyton could see the tension drain from the faces of the duty crew. Silence reined and had never felt richer or more welcome.
Then he remembered Joss. He glanced across to where she stood amongst the webbing of her crash couch. Some of the standby crew were beginning to release themselves, but not Joss. She stood transfixed, digesting what they'd just heard; fear and distress clouded her eyes. Engineering had taken the worst damage, which was where Wicksy had been heading when they last saw him.
Jenner was in an excited state he could only equate with shock. This battle had been brutal and uncompromising - a far cry from the triumphant attack on The Noise Within, even though that had seemed tough enough at the time. On that occasion the element of surprise had worked, after which they'd always had the upper hand. This time it hadn't, and the result had been more in the nature of a disaster, with the rebel ship's captain continually one step ahead. At least, that was how it looked, but could the outcome have been avoided? And could events be presented any differently to his superiors? The last thing he wanted was for the importance of the needle ships and the human/AI gestalt they represented to be diminished. He replayed the brief encounter in his mind, reassessing his decisions and considering what might have been done differently. The rebel's concerted burst of fire that precipitated things had been completely unexpected. One of the unfortunate needle ships caught in the barrage could never have avoided that expanding field of mayhem even if he'd begun the attack immediately. So he'd waited. That was his assessment at the time and subsequent analysis now confirmed that decision. He would have expected the second ship to escape, however, and his review suggested that it could have done and should have done. He would certainly have retreated and avoided destruction. So the second needle ship's demise was due to a miscalculation by its pilot rather than any error on his part.
Two further ships had been lost, but that was to be expected in such a violent clash. No, it was the first two that had cost them, and he could hardly be blamed for those. Nor could he be held accountable for the habitat vessel's unexpected turn of speed, let alone its demonstrated ability to enter hyperspace without the need of an established wormhole. Only the Byrzaens were supposed to be able to do that. The fact that a section of humanity had also developed such technology would be of considerable interest to ULAW and that in itself would surely justify the mission and the casualties sustained.
Half the ships under his command had been lost in very short order, yet they'd managed to inflict significant damage on the rebel vessel before it disappeared and had learnt something vital about the habitat's technological capabilities. When viewed in that light, this was perhaps not the disaster it initially appeared to be.
Satisfied, he reformed what remained of the squadron and went to rendezvous with the ULAW dreadnought, which had never even had a chance to enter the fray. Yes, he now knew exactly how he was going to frame his report.
The hours immediately following the ULAW ambush were the most difficult Kethi had ever faced, as she assessed the damage, monitored repairs and took count of the dead. In structural terms the damage to the ship was severe but not critical, and it was restricted almost entirely to a few key areas. The needle ships had known what they were after and two weapons batteries had been taken out, but most of the damage centred around the engines.
Engineering had been ripped open. Nobody from that section survived and there were no replacements for her to call on. Kethi remembered all too clearly her own command for all off-duty crew to report to stations. Standard procedure, but one she now had cause to question. The energy veils were damaged and the only people who might have an inkling what to do about that were dead.
Every child raised in the habitat learnt a few basic principles when it came to the veils - enough to know that they represented a flow of energy from another brane to this one, energy which fed the stardrives that powered their ships - but what she needed now went a little beyond the basic.
None the less, she scoured personnel records and identified the surviving crew member who knew the most about such things: one Emily Teifer.
"With all due respect, ma'am... are you serious?"
Kethi frowned. Teifer was two years older than her, broad shouldered and round faced, with hazel eyes and a wide-nostrilled, slightly squat nose. Kethi knew her in passing but little more than that. "You have the best grades in engineering of anyone aboard."
Teifer laughed. "At school, maybe." She licked her upper lip, suddenly serious. "Look, you know how basic all that stuff is. Just because I can draw a decent picture of a cow doesn't mean I could perform open heart surgery on one, and that's what you're asking me to do here."
"No, you're wrong," Kethi assured her. "I'm not asking for miracles. There's a job to be done and you're the best qualified to do it. I just need someone to get engineering back into some sort of order now that the hull's sealed, and to give me their best assessment of where we stand with the engines. That's all."
"So, I do the house cleaning and keep things ticking over until a real engineer comes along?"
"In effect, yes."
"In that case, ma'am, you've got yourself a new chief engineer. I'll do whatever I can."
"Thank you."
She watched Teifer depart. One more thing to tick off the list, and the list was a long one.
"You look exhausted," Leyton told her as he entered the bridge a moment later. "Get some rest, for all our sakes. The ship doesn't need a commander who makes errors of judgement through tiredness."
"I will, I will," she promised. Yet an hour later found her still at at her station on the bridge, her thoughts grim. No sooner had Nyles left her in command of the ship than she led them straight into a ULAW ambush. Only their hybrid engines had enabled them to survive and those engines were now damaged. She felt confident Teifer would do what she could, but they both knew that wasn't much. Nobody aboard had the expertise to tell her how long the drive would hold out, how many more jumps it was good for
and when exactly it was likely to fail completely and leave them all stranded. The situation was intolerable.
In truth, she knew they'd escaped the skirmish relatively lightly, having fled before ULAW could bring any heavier ships into play, but it had still happened on her watch, and after the news of the habitat's destruction even one more casualty was one too many. She scrolled down the list of the dead - twenty-three of them - and could put a face to every name. These were her friends, people she'd grown up with, folk she'd known all her life.
Realising that wallowing in her own hurt was a base form of procrastination and the very last thing that those relying on her leadership deserved, she blinked, wiping the list from her lenses. No point in putting things off any longer; a decision had to be made.
She felt as torn as the engines' energy fields. She was desperate to continue working, filled with the conviction that her own people's future and perhaps even that of all humankind might hinge on discovering what was really going on between ULAW and the Byrzaens. Yet in the current circumstances she didn't see how she could. She'd even contemplated jettisoning the data packages collected at the pickup point, afraid that they might be contaminated - one final trap set by the United League of Allied Worlds to snare them - but she rejected the idea. People had died to retrieve this information. How would those deaths make any sense if she didn't do her utmost to extract every iota of useful intel from these packages as possible? So they remained there, waiting for her to find the time to digest and analyse their content; which, unfortunately, was not now.
Kethi was self-reliant as a rule, but not to the point of believing that no one else ever had a valid viewpoint. Seeing no alternative herself, she called a meeting of the ship's officers in the hope that they might. Leyton was also included, almost as an afterthought, on the basis that he'd bring a different perspective and possessed knowledge that the habitat natives didn't.
