Strike Battleship Engineers (The Ithis Campaign Book 2)

by Shane Lochlann Black

  The same systems she used to analyze Bayone Three’s orbits instantly obtained a fix on DSS Argent as the enormous capital ship appeared over the southeastern horizon. It was traversing the night sky at an orbital velocity of just over 21000 MPH and was in exactly the same orbit Captain Hunter had first ordered when they arrived over the planet. Zony activated her subspace and local high-powered transceivers and ran a transmission/reception diagnostic against the sophisticated automatic communications systems aboard her battleship.

  She had about thirty-five minutes before she would lose line-of-sight, so she had to work fast. She was satisfied all systems were operational, so she attempted to establish a datalink connection with the command computer using her suit’s universal interface. Zony knew if Argent hadn’t responded to her original hail, it was likely under radio silence, which meant it wouldn’t actively respond to her transmissions.

  It also meant their original suspicion might be correct. There might very well be hostiles planetside.

  Fortunately, establishing a datalink didn’t require Argent to transmit on an easily detectable voice channel. She could use a narrow-beam connection similar to the ones employed by Skywatch to communicate in a battlespace where an enemy might be able to intercept an omnidirectional broadcast. Hers would simply be from planet to orbit and back.

  After analyzing the vessel’s course, Zony was able to configure her datalink LOS beam to automatically key on Argent’s main ventral antennas and to follow them across the sky so the connection wouldn’t be interrupted. Once she had a permanent datalink, she could go to work.

  Standing on the surface of the planet, Zony silently keyed a distress signal and ordered the Argent command computer to notify the bridge. Then she accessed Skywatch spacelane traffic control and requested an upload of the last known location of Copernicus One to her tac-suit’s navigational array. She might not have been able to keep track of the engineering corvette from the ground, but STC kept a continuous track of every boat, fighter and gunship it launched from the moment it left the flight deck until it landed again. Using all the relevant transponder data, Zony quickly triangulated a four square mile zone to the north where the boat was likely to have gone down.

  Tixia activated her handheld scanner and began following her heads-up display’s navigational overlay. The crash zone was on the opposite side of the rocky hills to the north, so she began making her way around the closest ridge on foot. Once she had line-of-sight on a wide enough horizon, the combination of her tac-suit’s systems, her handheld scanner and Argent’s look-down sensors would give her a reliable least-distance path to the crash site.

  Now she had to come up with a way to configure ground-orbit-ground transmissions on the emergency frequencies. If she could, she would be able to use Argent’s antennas to contact Yili and the rest of the landing party.

  Eight

  Yili’s commlink booted. After a few seconds of self-diagnostics, the universal transceiver controls activated and a pleasant tone sounded, indicating the device’s voice interface was functional. Yili configured the channel selector to transmit only to her boat’s autosystems. She could barely make a sound for lack of air.

  “Medical emergency.”

  Seconds later, Yili heard movement in the tail section storage compartment. A bulkhead port handle moved far above her and the hatch opened to reveal a painfully bright light. Yili closed her eyes and turned her head to avoid the glare. A soft hum gradually became louder as the area around the spot where Yili had fallen became illuminated by the Angel’s running lights. Yili winced as the unit’s arms reached under her legs and shoulders and lifted her off the cold surface of the boat’s bulkhead and floor.

  She felt a momentary pressure across her back and neck and then her weight settled into a comfortable berth. The airlock closed at her feet. Her ears popped as the Angel’s interior pressurized and a flawlessly balanced atmosphere filled the chamber and warmed to a constant temperature of seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. A blue-white glow appeared from beneath the interior floor of the rescue unit. An oxygen mask appeared and was gently attached to Yili’s face. A flood of oxygen-rich air caused her to reflexively inhale deeply. Her head pounded with the after-effects of oxygen deprivation. She felt a pressure sleeve slide under her arm and attach itself. Sedatives and plasma flowed. Within seconds, Yili was unconscious.

  She didn’t hear Zony’s hail.

  Nine

  If DSS Minstrel had been an animal, the fur on her back would have been bristling and her teeth would have been bared. Captain Islington had ordered her ship into a tacking orbit deep in the gravity well of Bayone Three. This put her sensors and scanners in a position to “peek” over the edge of the planet’s terminator without giving away their position.

  What they saw had the angry little ship on high alert. They were trailing Argent’s orbit. The much larger capital vessel was in a standard track at roughly 190 miles altitude. What was confusing to the Minstrel signals section was the fact it wasn’t recording standard emissions from the vessel’s engines or defensive systems. From where Minstrel was sitting, the ship looked as if it were largely powered down or disabled. But even that wasn’t the real problem.

  Parked only a couple thousand yards off Argent’s starboard quarter were two unidentified destroyer-class vessels apparently fitted with long-range energy batteries. Their appearance came as a shock to Minstrel’s crew, as any potentially hostile ship that close to a Citadel-class vessel would normally have been ripped to shreds by her point defense. By all appearances, Argent apparently hadn’t fired a shot. At least not yet.

  “What the hell is going on?” Islington said in an urgent low tone.

  “Those ships don’t have standard hull configurations but I’d say there’s a 70% chance they are operating Sarn-built engines, ma’am,” Ensign Grant reported quietly. “Shall I attempt to raise the Argent?”

  “Negative.”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, she may be disabled and not be aware those ships are there.”

  “If we transmit, they’ll come after us. Two Sarn destroyers are way over our head, Ensign. No signals until further orders. Clear?”

  “Clear, ma’am.” Grant sat back in his shock couch. He wanted to do something to help their fleet mate, but he realized his captain was right. Minstrel could observe, but her tactical options were limited. She just didn’t have the tonnage or the firepower to engage attack destroyers, especially in numbers. The hull configurations they were looking at were designed for running firefights, and while Islington’s ship was more than capable of defending herself, fast destroyers with these weapon loadouts were generally designed to kill ships in Minstrel’s class. Granted, the Perseus escort frigate had a formidable crew and more than her fair share of strengths, but long-range energy batteries vs. anti-ship missile racks put the missile-armed ship at an incredible disadvantage, even one on one and especially at short ranges. Two against one would be suicide.

  “Cal, catalog those two contacts and designate hostile. Start a tape. I want a gravitic baseline.”

  “Ma’am?”

  Islington looked back at the tactical station. “If we get an aspect change, I want the battle computer to alert us as soon as possible so we can evade.”

  “Aye ma’am.” Grant didn’t want to let on he hadn’t even thought of that, so he kept his head down and lined up his sensors on the enemy formation’s emissions.

  “Helm at station keeping, Finn. Keep those engines nice and quiet.”

  “Aye.”

  Minstrel hovered in space only a few miles above the Bayone Three exosphere.

  “Ma’am!” Meier said quietly but urgently.

  “Gravitic emissions now 14% over amplitude. Possible aspect change hostile target Kilowatt Alpha Three,” Grant reported, steadily watching his readings.

  “Back us off, pilot. Nice and smooth.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  Minstrel slid away, ducking behind the planet’s atmospher
e as the first destroyer pivoted in space and began to move away from Argent. The second followed, maintaining formation. Moments later, each ship established a drive field and kicked its cruising engines up to speed. Within 30 seconds, they were gone.

  Islington unlatched her shock harness. “XO, you have the conn. Cal, notify security I want a heavily armed boarding party in the boat bay in five minutes. Full armor and decompression protocols. Engineering.”

  The intraship channel clicked over.

  “Engineering, Brogan.”

  “Sean, I need someone who can show me about Argent.”

  “Aye, ma’am. I’ll be ready in one minute.”

  “I’d rather not take my top guy, Chief. You might be needed here.”

  “My team can mind the store, ma’am. Someone’s got to keep an eye on you.”

  “Very well. Bring your crash gear. Bridge out.”

  “Due respect, ma’am, what do you think you’re doing?” Meier asked as he moved to at least look like he was blocking Islington’s exit from her bridge.

  “We’re going to board Argent. I want to know what’s going on over there, and with those destroyers lurking around we can’t risk a transmission.”

  “Regulations state a Skywatch fleet commanding officer may not enter a hostile area except in defense of his or her own ship.”

  “That’s nice.” The captain checked her sidearm, then holstered it. Although Hollis Meier and his captain were both ostensibly the same rank, Islington had the center chair. They locked gazes. “You can make a log entry if you want, XO. My command. My regulations.”

  “I’ll hold off for now, captain.” Meier smiled the smile of a man with few choices. “What are my orders?”

  “If you encounter hostiles, run like a botched robbery.”

  “What about your landing party?”

  “We’ll take care of the next group of guests who come to visit. Cal, you’re with me.” The tactical officer’s face paled and he swallowed hard as he glanced at the XO. He hurried out the deck one hatch to catch up with his skipper.

  Ten

  A less experienced officer would have missed it. Lieutenant Tixia, however, had always been fortunate to have what her captain called an “auditory tripwire.” Something or someone was attempting to jam ground-level communications. It started as an intermittent distortion in the background of Zony’s reception scanner, then began to grow in power as she rounded the edge of the northern ridge.

  Unfortunately for whomever was broadcasting the distortion wave, a battleship signals officer was on the ground and much closer to their transmission apparatus than they probably thought. Because Zony was using a directional beam to communicate with her ship, her datalink wasn’t affected. This gave her the ability to use the ship’s formidable array of electromagnetic analysis equipment to quickly isolate the jamming signal and rapidly develop a counter. This, of course, also gave her the ability to use the jamming signal itself as a homing beacon.

  Zony had her blaster drawn. She stood tense at the edge of an alcove in the rocks. A black wire ran along the ground from beneath some sparse vegetation into the larger nearby formation. She heard movement. Her tac-suit’s systems indicated some kind of electronic equipment nearby was generating artificial heat and emitting carbon dioxide.

  The lieutenant peered around the edge of the rock. The man had his back turned. He was wearing a portable oxygen unit and thermal clothing complete with all-terrain boots. He was working with a medium-sized portable radio beacon. He stopped. Zony held her breath. He reached for his waist.

  “Freeze.” Zony raised her weapon with both hands and aimed between the man’s shoulders. He stopped, fingers spread. “Reach across with your left hand and toss that blaster.”

  He complied. The gun landed with a thud and slid in the dust.

  “On your knees. Cross your feet and interlock your fingers behind your–”

  She caught movement to one side. A blazing white flash from her blaster punched a second armed man right in the center of his chest. His weapon flew as he cried out and stumbled backwards off the ridge. Tixia took aim at the second man again just as he raised his pistol. Energy beams flashed in the Bayone night. His body landed hard, face down.

  Zony’s breaths came in short gasps. She still had her weapon raised as she tried to calm herself. The inside of her helmet faceplate fogged up momentarily before her suit compensated for the buildup of water vapor. She gently nudged her suit’s proximity scanners into operation and glanced at her handheld scanner. She detected no further nearby life signs. She holstered her weapon.

  The control mechanism on the radio beacon was blinking. Zony approached it cautiously and examined the device. Apparently the man had been in the process of re-tuning the transmitter to function on multiple frequencies at once. Tixia knew this would require considerable expertise. She turned the first man’s body over. His clothing and equipment were unremarkable. There would be no way to identify him or who he was working with by what he was wearing. A quick examination of the second man turned up similar results. She deactivated the radio beacon.

  A soft tone sounded and Zony brought up her orbital tracking overlay. Argent had dipped below the northwest horizon. She would have to wait another 37 minutes before it reappeared in the southern sky on its next orbit. With hostiles on the ground, the dangers involved in omnidirectional transmissions had increased dramatically. Nevertheless, she had to warn Yili and the others. She configured her commlink to broadcast on a low-powered scrambled frequency.

  “Tixia to Copernicus One. Emergency.”

  Eleven

  Aibreann Willits was in a rush. She made quick work of her breakfast and chores and made certain she had all her things before she was allowed to go out and play. It was late morning, and the village at Starhaven had long been up and bustling with the work of the day. The Bayone Three settlement had been established for some years now and had made considerable progress in its agricultural experiments. Although the inhabitants of the village still required man-portable life support outdoors, the relatively pleasant weather on the eastern edge of the grasslands made productive farming much easier than the civilian surveys had first believed it would.

  Starhaven wasn’t growing food per se, but it was growing field after field of a barley hybrid that could be processed into a valuable additive for other grains. Breads and other baked foods made with Starhaven’s specialty, known by its unique name “Barley H18,” had much higher calorie and vitamin density, which meant the same tonnage in food shipments could last nearly twice as long while still giving colonists their daily recommended nutrition.

  None of this was all that interesting to Aibreann. She was far more enthusiastic about her new clubhouse. It was a little further away than she was normally allowed to wander, but it wasn’t that far past the settlement’s perimeter fence. Besides, there was no way she was going to let something like an over-cautious mom stop her from exploring all the pretty lights and interesting gadgets she had found. She was certain no other kid in the village had a special hiding place like she did, and there certainly wasn’t anything that could keep a nine-year-old away from a new friend who even knew how to play guessing games.

  She had planned ahead. Hidden by the big tree across the road was her little woven cloth bag. Inside were two of her dolls, a coloring book, a story book, a supply of candies and a picture of herself she was very proud of. She made sure to wear her overalls and best walking shoes, like her father always told her. Anytime she had been taken along on his exploring trips in the surrounding forests, she had been told to always wear her good hiking shoes and resilient clothing. Today, she even wore a baseball cap over her long fire-red hair. She planned to stay as long as she could this time, because she was sure it wouldn’t be long before she could finish reading her favorite story to her new friend and showing her the pictures she colored.

  Aibreann made sure to check her life support unit just like her father showed her. It had a little blue
97 in the window, which meant she had lots and lots of air. She knew if it was ever 20 or less that she was supposed to go straight home. Those numbers meant she was running out of air and all the grown-ups were super serious about it. She fitted the light child-sized appliance to her face. The clear resin covered her nose and mouth much like a medical oxygen mask. It wasn’t cold today like it was sometimes, but she wore her little windbreaker jacket anyway. After a few reminders from mom, she was told she could go play. She was across the road with her bag and well on her way to the perimeter fence in a matter of minutes.

  The way the twin Bayone suns lit up the forest was almost magical. The smaller one was a pale yellow and the larger star was a deep orange. The yellow one came up first, except during the winter, and made the first light of the day a stark white. But when the big star came up everything took on an amber color and made the forest look like it had gone from spring to fall in the space of only an hour. It was rarely warm in the morning until second dawn. Starhaven was only a thousand miles or so from the equator, so temperatures were mild and occasionally balmy. It was this weather combined with the frequent light rain that made the location ideal for agricultural experiments.

  The rocky enclave just beyond the settlement perimeter fence was perhaps 200 feet high at its peak, but it did cover about eight acres of land to the northwest. A large natural cave was visible for some distance to the south, which only gave the parents in the village something they could incorporate into campfire ghost stories. It wasn’t far from Aibreann’s new clubhouse.

  Roughly a quarter mile west of the cave entrance and more than four miles from the Starhaven perimeter stood a rather large black metal construct. It appeared to be tipped on one side and half-buried in the ground. The rocks around the location were scorched and marred by scores of impact points. The entire structure was about sixty feet tall from the ground to the highest tip. On the side closest to the ground letters were visible. The larger ones read “A-R-G-E” Beneath were more letters “B-B-V 7-4-0" and a picture of a big wings-spread bird that looked like an owl. Aibreann had no idea what any of that meant, but that didn’t stop her from clambering up the egress ladder and ducking into the starboard access hatch.