Fragments sf-6

by Randolph Lalonde

  "Gotta love a supercomputer without an artificial intelligence. No risk of it going rogue on us."

  "That's why he only links to one or two systems at a time," Jason agreed. "What's your plan if they block our escape Oz?"

  To Agameg's surprise the commanding officer didn't pause for a second. "We initiate the ghost ship strategy."

  Agameg looked it up in his command and control unit and skimmed the summary. "That's drastic. If you'll pardon me saying so," he whispered as he finished reading.

  "If we lock up the Botanical Gallery and evacuate everyone we can we'll have a real chance of making it work," Oz replied. "Flight Command, ready all fighters and keep power emissions to an absolute minimum. I want everyone to be ready to run at a moment's notice. When the punters are loaded, start moving the rest of our ships into launch position.”

  “Sir, only a few civilians in the upper berths have reported to the main hangar. They’re mostly former raiders,” replied Chief Vercelli.

  “I was going to tell you about that, Oz,” Jason interjected. “About seven hundred of the slaves we liberated have volunteered to remain aboard to help defend the ship.”

  “You didn’t think it was important to bring that up a little sooner?”

  “Well, you were busy, so I just accepted their offer. David Penton is speaking for them.”

  “All right, have someone from security work with him to get them organized.”

  “We don’t have many Officers left, mostly Aucharian grunts and a couple bridge staff, like Agameg.”

  “Ever want command of a small army, Agameg?” Oz asked.

  The issyrian’s eyes flexed suddenly, at first becoming as round as saucers then narrowing down until they were two thin, mischievous slits. “How did you know my birthday was coming up?”

  “All right, then as soon as things die down in tactical I want you to take whoever you can from security and get those people organized. You know what the ghost ship tactic requires, so put them where we need them.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “All right, Chief Vercelli, what are your plans? I’m hoping that you’ll stay aboard, we’ll need someone in the hangars.”

  “Aye, I’m staying with the ship, Commander. I didn’t help get her in shape to see her get taken.”

  “Understood, thank you Chief. Just get most of your deck crews into ships and stand ready to launch with the evacuees. Those fighters will need ground support. Everyone should have their personal kit and trade tools. Understand?"

  "Aye. Are you sure we've gotten to that point?" Deck Chief Angelo Vercelli asked. Through the blur of the privacy field and the semi-transparent floor of the bridge Oz could see the greying Chief looking up at him.

  "Not yet. Just be ready. I'm sending you encrypted coordinates, pass them on to your most trustworthy FTL ticketed pilots."

  "Aye.”

  "Where are you sending Paula?"

  "She won’t go with the evacuees. With the look she’s giving me, we’d have to sedate her if we wanted to pack her off."

  "We might need her spirit. Let's hope none of this is necessary."

  Jason deactivated the scrambling field surrounding the command seating, assuming instant communication to all bridge stations was going to be essential.

  Oz nodded at him and stood. "All right, everyone who just got a notification on your command units telling you the ghost ship tactic is in play should know what to do. If you have an order to report to the botanical section, report to Junior Lieutenant Kameri. Everyone else should have orders to bring emergency evacuation via the launch deck. Do not use escape shuttles. Make sure you take a survival kit on the way to the hangar for yourself and do not take side trips to your quarters or storage areas. You won’t have time to pick up personal possessions. Go now."

  Half of the thirty-one officers on the bridge stepped away from their stations and took a moment to say goodbye to the people sitting beside them before leaving the bridge. They knew there wasn't much time.

  Oz ignored the questioning glances and looks of uncertainty that came his way as people departed.

  "Commander, the battlecruiser is sending probes into the cluster," Agameg announced as he made haste to his tactical station.

  Jason stood and strode to the field control station. Laura glanced up and was shaking her head before he was half way there. “I saw the order, but I’m not leaving.”

  “You’re on that list for a reason, the abandoning crew need a certain number of officers and you’re part of that pool.”

  “I’m not leaving you Jason,” Oz could barely hear her say. The two were in a deadlock, and he couldn’t afford to have a couple’s spat on the bridge, no matter how serious it was.

  “We don’t have a choice,” Jason said.

  “Why do you think I came here? We’re here because we weren’t happy in the lives we had, we couldn’t make the choices we wanted to,” she shouted, locking her station and getting to her feet. “This isn’t Freeground, you’re not in Fleet Intelligence, and we don’t have to do anything but survive!”

  “You know that you’re not needed in the ghost ship strategy, not as an energy field specialist, not aboard the Triton. We need you to help control the evacuees, and I need to know you’re safe. Especially with what you know is coming. With what you know we’ll have to do to survive here.”

  “I need you on the Samson, Laura. I’m putting you in command of the Evacuees,” Oz interjected.

  “Stay out of this!” Laura burst.

  Jason took Laura by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You know this isn’t some chauvinistic or sentimentally driven thing. We need you out there.”

  Laura was close to tears and red faced, but nodded. “I’m sorry, I know. I wish I didn’t, and I could just argue until it was too late.” She shook her head and took a breath. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  He kissed her briefly and said something Oz didn’t need to hear. She was off the bridge by the time Jason rejoined him at his side.

  "Frost, tear that ship to pieces," Oz ordered. The reaction time was so fast it was as if he had pulled the trigger himself. All the able railguns across the top of the ship fired at once, hurling thousands of rounds at the enemy ship just outside the cluster of drifting rock. The blue tracers trailing behind the rounds told Oz that the first load were sink rounds, designed to absorb incredible amounts of energy. That old gunner's planning on taking out her shields before digging in. I'm starting to see why Jake kept him aboard. Oz mused.

  Engineering Chief Grady's holographic representation appeared in the command seat behind him. "All my people are out of the new thrusters."

  "All right, send anyone you don’t need to the main hangar so they can evacuate.” Oz turned towards the helm, “Get us out of here Panloo. When we're clear of the asteroids take us right past that battlecruiser."

  The nafalli pilot fired up the four main thrusters, favouring the new replacement pods and in a surprising display of skill guided the Triton out of the crater she'd called home for only a few hours. The route she was taking would guide the ship through the thinnest of the debris tailing the asteroids and keep the gunnery deck pointed towards the enemy battlecruiser.

  "All torpedo, beam and missile rooms, load for high penetration, close range," Oz ordered. "How are our shields?"

  "We're up and fully charged, we even have reserve power. Somehow Chief Grady got all our power plants back online and the temporary emitters installed," Laura reported with a nod at Chief Grady's hologram.

  "So I noticed. Focus most of our shielding on the core sections of the ship and gunnery deck. Now if he could get the cloaking systems back up and running I might recommend he gets a week off," Oz remarked.

  "That's not going to happen while we've got a through and through hole big enough for a fighter, sorry Commander," the Chief replied.

  "Just wishful thinking." Oz watched as the Triton neared the edge of the comet like trails left behind by the asteroids and planetoids the
y'd used for cover. The enemy ship's shields were reading no power, and Frost had switched to ripper slugs, ammunition that was heavy and sturdy enough to cut through the thick nebula material without going off course before tearing into the enemy's hull.

  The battlecruiser changed course, turning towards them. It was completely against what he expected. If Oz were in command of the enemy ship, he would have used the nearby asteroid cluster as cover, or rotated the ship so they could recharge their shields one bank at a time.

  "Oz, this pattern suggests-" Jason started.

  "All torpedo and missile batteries, fire," Oz ordered calmly.

  "Hold!" Jason countered. It was too late. The torpedo ports lining the edges of the Triton’s hull lit up momentarily as the entire ship fired a volley. "Oz, this pattern tells me that ship has backup, and they’re nearby. It’s trying to get close so it can block a line of fire while on another group while it closes in."

  Oz looked at the tactical display in the middle of the bridge again. "I thought the same for a minute but I don't see anything. No electromagnetic signals, nothing on thermal scan."

  The Triton continued to close the distance between it and the battlecruiser. It was doing its best to counter the impressive attack, firing its beam weapons in sweeping arcs to counter the incoming rush of torpedoes and missiles.

  As the ships closed to within five hundred kilometres the torpedoes struck, the intensified fire of the gunnery deck ripped into the vessel and the few missiles that made it past the ship's defence impacted soundly in the middle of the bulky cruiser. Explosive decompressions and sudden implosions followed directly after the impacts, leaving the starboard side of the vessel an erupting ruin.

  "There they are!" Agameg announced, highlighting the outlines of several vessels on a second, broader tactical display he initiated on the bridge. "They were hiding just in front of the cluster, putting a planetoid between us and them."

  Oz's heart sank. He hadn't even considered that they would position their ships right in front of the largest planetoid, using the heat and the mass of the body to remain perfectly hidden while their decoy scanned for them and drew them out. "Panloo, get us out of here! Head for the nearest edge of the nebula. Don't spare the thrusters."

  "They're firing sir," Agameg announced.

  The tactical hologram in the middle of the bridge highlighted a group of five ships, all heavy battlecruisers. Three were the trio they had initially attempted to escape, and their energy shields were already low from being so close to the flaming front edge of the planetoid. The other two were part of the new group, and filed in between the others as they gave chase, firing their high powered beam weapons.

  "Frost, begin firing flack rounds in a high density pattern so we can mitigate some of this heat damage," Oz ordered.

  "Aye sir, changing firing method."

  "Torpedo rooms, finish that battlecruiser off then load for long range. We have to give our ships enough cover so they can get away."

  “We have breaches, section Q14 to S12. No one reported in those areas,” Agameg reported as passively as he could manage. “Their particle beams are sweeping sections of our hull, probing for weak spots.”

  “All right, we have to change tactics here, we won’t make the edge of the nebula. Helm, reduce thrust and keep the hangars away from enemy fire. We’re redirecting as much power as we can to shields.” Oz dropped into the command chair and brought up his own, more detailed control interface. The smaller holographic displays surrounded him as a two dimensional control board closed over his lap. His own tactical display was far more complicated than the one in the centre of the bridge, made to be an overlay on the visual representation for the primary commander aboard. The first piece of information he found useful was how much the thick nebula's particle field was reducing the effectiveness of the particle beams. Their shields were holding up to the punishment again but the new main thrusters had taken real damage already. They were losing momentum quickly thanks to the thick particles of the planetary nebula, and it was all Oomal could do to keep the Triton drifting slowly away from the planetoid cluster.

  “What if we use the asteroids behind us as cover?” asked Jason.

  “They’re shedding too much material, it would reduce our shields too fast and we’d be open.”

  “Then we’re out of options,” he whispered as he began calling up software from his personal drive.

  “Looks like.”

  There was a raise in spirits as the first battlecruiser they had seen was obliterated. The space around it was filled with escape shuttles as the final volley of torpedoes struck it. That was the morale booster the Triton’s crew needed for what was to come.

  "Security, lock the Botanical Gallery down tight," he said quietly. “I don’t want anyone to have access until we have a ship wide all clear.”

  "We haven't completely evacuated medical yet, sir," Kameri replied.

  "Then lock that down separately. We're out of time."

  "Yes sir," he replied.

  "Torpedo rooms, Gunnery deck, target the furthest battlecruiser and finish him off. She’s still showing extensive damage from earlier. When they’re dead in space, shut down and get into position. Engineering, prepare to shunt all power to charge our reserves then shut down all core reactions. Flight Operations, launch all ready vessels. Tell them to head for the edge of the nebula and proceed from there. Use the Triton as cover."

  All the departments acknowledged his orders.

  "Are you sure about this?" Jason asked. “Last chance to cancel this and keep the crew together.”

  "We're not going to escape as we are, and the crew is already separated from their rightful commander." Oz whispered back hurriedly. "Panloo, angle the ship so our top side is facing the incoming cruisers and cut all thrust. We need to give our pilots cover."

  "Just tell me when you want me to work my magic," Jason said as he worked at his station, preparing several programs.

  Oz watched as the fighter launch systems activated like a wave across the bottom of the ship, sending two dozen Uriel and Ramiel fighters into the nebula. Two other vessels they had salvaged from the raiders launched from the main hangars. "Is that everything Chief Vercelli?"

  "No, there are two launches left. We need another minute.”

  Oz looked at his small Flight Deck status screen and watched as Uriel and Ramiel fighters were loaded into the punter system. He’d never seen the crew work so quickly. The Skimmer, a captured raider vessel reported that it was loaded and was launched straight away.

  “Ripped that one up, taking care of the second one’s engines. We found a soft spot!”

  Oz looked to the tactical screen to see internal explosions in the previously damaged battlecruiser, she was finished. The gunnery crew had moved on to focus on the nearest ship’s engines. “Frost, I told you to cease fire as soon as you disabled the furthest ship.”

  “Just about done, son. Just a few hundred rounds and we’ll finish off this target’s engines. She’ll get dragged into the nearest planetoid’s gravity and pulled out of the picture.”

  Oz’s attention was drawn to a group of fourteen fighters who broke from the main group and began accelerating towards the enemy battlecruisers. He checked the details and was alarmed at who was leading the strike. “What’s Dent doing?”

  “I’m calling him back now, Commander.” Chief Vercelli announced.

  The fighters each fired a pair of nuclear missiles and veered away. “Just lending the gunnery deck a hand.” Dent announced as the group of fighters moved to rejoin the assembled ships.

  “That never happens again, understand?” Oz told him.

  “Aye, aye.”

  The high speed projectiles finished closing the distance to the lead destroyer and with a flash of light, the damage was done.

  “The gunnery deck’s rounds are striking,” Agameg announced. “Taxing their shields.”

  Oz watched the tactical screen as several of the small nuclear missiles were
destroyed by defensive fire and the grit of the nebula cloud. At long last there was a white flash thousands of kilometres away. “Three detonations out of twenty eight launches. Major damage to the lead battlecruiser,” Agameg reported. “Their shields were already quite depleted thanks to the gunnery deck. Chief Frost is resuming fire.”

  “Looks like they’re still coming, but they’ll be sensor blind for at least a few seconds,” Agameg declared. “We bore the shockwave well, shields down to seventy three percent ship wide.”

  “We’ve got this round, Commander,” Frost reported enthusiastically. “Sure we don’t want to give this a real go? We might just take ‘em all on.”

  Oz looked to Agameg, who shook his head slowly. “We’re taking too much damage and the three most fit battlecruisers are moving away from each other.”

  What Oz saw on his command screen verified it. The battlecruisers were just beginning to open fire as a group, and the only reason why they weren’t taking severe damage in the ship’s central sections was because he was sacrificing the rest. The damage monitoring system was already reporting impending hull breaches in several outer compartments. “Sorry Frost, I’m counting the seconds until your guns get shut down.”

  “All done, just watch the fireworks,” Frost said before all his teams’ rounds finished striking.

  The battlecruiser listed to one side, the energy emissions from her engines dropped off drastically, followed by the rest of the ship. “Good work. Now let’s hope their friends don’t take it personally.”

  Oz returned his attention to his command holograms and watched as the last four, smaller captured raider ships from Ossimi Ring launched. Using the Triton as cover, several Uriel fighters opened large wormholes, and the captured raider ships, filled with evacuees, escaped into compressed space. The fighters were next, following the larger ships, and before he knew it, the Triton was left alone.

  The enemy vessels began to intensify their fire, sending volleys of particle pulses and sweeping their shields with energy beams, trying to break through.

  “All posts secure weapons. Jason, signal our surrender."