Captain Hawkins (The Jamie Hawkins Saga Book 1)

by H. Alesso

  Hale laughed.

  The last R & R was on a small mining colony that had drinks and limited entertainment, but was nonetheless a great success. The men enjoyed staying at the cheap hotel rooms that were available, a welcome change from the crowded accommodations aboard ship. At least it included clean linen and plenty of booze.

  A few hands later, Hawkins had 2S-3S. Mitchel with J-J opened, making a moderate bet. Hawkins raised a substantial amount more. Mitchel was surprise, but called.

  The flop was JS-6C-7C. Mitchel almost smiled when he saw the third Jack appear and made a big raise. Hawkins thought he should fold, but he was sensing weakness in Mitchel’s manner and instead decided to bluff. He called the raise. When the 8C came on the turn, Mitchel again seemed to make a nervous twitch.

  Look for your opponent’s ‘tell.’

  Hawkins decided to bluff once more, to unnerve his opponent. He went all in.

  Now Mitchel was visibly concerned that Hawkins had hit a flush or a straight.

  He scowled and slammed his hand into the center of the table—showing his Jacks and folding his hand.

  He sputtered, “Damn!”

  Hawkins raised his brows and showed his hand—a stone cold bluff.

  “How could you raise against my Jacks with such nonsense?” protested Mitchel.

  Hawkins sighed whimsically and said, “I’ve been touched by the chance, more than once.”

  Hale demanded skeptically, “But what happens, when you’re all in, and your bluff gets called?”

  Hawkins looked far away for a moment, recalling a time when he was caught bluffing—as a Marine—with dreadful consequences.

  His face contoured into a painful grimace.

  He said quietly, “Then you lose.”

  CHAPTER 19

  A Fair Trade

  Captain Jamie Hawkins was well pleased—which meant he was well pleased with himself. He sat in the command chair of his flagship surveying the column of ships that made up his diminutive fleet. He was especially proud that he had personally captured every one of the ships. The Destiny was in the lead as the rebel flagship, followed by the thirty-six-gun frigate Pollux and the eighteen-gun sloop Retribution, with the converted cargo ship, Liberty, and its eight guns bringing up the rear.

  He was proud of the Destiny’s crew, which had been with him in every action. The other ships were shaping up well, thanks to a sprinkling of his closest comrades among them. His irregular training program had brought them up to respectable standards. His delight extended to appreciation of the now several thousand rebel troops who were charged with defending the base on Spindrift.

  While he readily acknowledged the multiple occasions when Fate had been kind to him, he had begun to believe in his own luck, and he counted on it whenever he embarked on hazardous expeditions.

  On the other hand, he knew that actions were being taken against him—personally. Both President Victor and Chairman Rusk had denounced him by name, calling him “the greatest villain of all time” and setting a price on his head. Special operations forces had standing orders to find and eliminate him. But that attention didn’t intimidate him; in fact, he considered it flattering. He trusted his men, his luck, and his own ability to pay back those unprincipled scoundrels for the suffering they had visited upon him over the years.

  The Destiny and its ragged fleet hovered on the outer edge of the asteroid belt. For several hours they had held at maximum radar range, dodging behind asteroids to observe three Hellion warships that were attacking a Jaxon convoy with two small escort ships. The convoy of two freighters, carrying valuable mineral ore, maintained course toward the inner system while the two escorts struggled to keep the aggressors at bay.

  They were failing.

  “What are you waiting for?” asked Hale.

  “Patience, my friend, patience,” said Hawkins. “The Jaxon ships have already slackened their fire. Soon they will be helpless. There is more to be gained by delay, than impetuous action. In the meantime, maintain minimum emission standards and see how close we can get before we’re detected.”

  “Do you expect Jaxon reinforcements to arrive?”

  “Certainly not, Jaxon is spread too thin and undermanned in this area already. This inadequate escort is proof enough of that.”

  “Then the outcome is settled and we gain nothing by lingering in the vicinity. We should leave before we’re discovered.”

  “Is that, what you would do?”

  Hale looked perplexed, then worried. “Surely, you’re not contemplating engaging in this melee in some way?”

  “What I’m thinking is that the longer this battle drags on the worse off all the combatants will be. If we step in when the time is right, we may find better odds for gaining some profit.”

  “Hawkins, you’re taking a huge gamble here. Before long the Hellion frigates will destroy the escort vessels, and even after a battle they will still be too formidable for us to tackle.”

  “I won’t take the risk, if time proves you correct; however, if an opportunity presents itself . . .”

  Hale blanched and the creases in his forehead deepened. He had learned to trust Hawkins’s instincts and ability, but still, this seemed like a dangerous game.

  An hour later, Hawkins sounded battle stations and ordered his ships ahead full speed toward the action. The Destiny came to life and bore down on the convoy. The two escort ships were now little more than wrecks, trailing vapor, smoke, and debris and maintaining only token resistance. One of the Hellion ships was also crippled and had dropped out of the battle, lagging far behind, with the second maneuvering erratically as she struggled with a direct hit to navigation. The remaining Hellion warship the Indefatigable, the largest and most powerful of the three, drove in to finish off the Jaxon escorts and claim her prize.

  Hawkins opened a communication channel and signaled in Hellion code to alert the Hellion ships that a ‘friend’ approached. Once the Destiny Friend-Or-Foe ID was verified she was ignored by the Hellion ships and within half an hour she had closed on the remaining forty-four gun Hellion frigate.

  Hawkins sent his little fleet to attack the convoy and the damaged Hellion ships while he left the 36-gun Destiny to tangle with the largest Hellion frigate, the 44-gun Indefatigable, alone.

  The first moment that the Indefatigable knew it had been tricked, was when Hawkins ordered a point blank broadside.

  Hawkins ordered, “Fire.”

  The Destiny’s primary armament was a starboard broadside of half of its thirty-six dark energy laser guns.

  Hawkins said, “Our enemy should be rethinking their situation—right about now.”

  The volcano of destruction that burst upon the Indefatigable was a murderous scythe through its hull. The Destiny held course and kept up a withering fire until the Indefatigable finally turned its weapons on the Destiny.

  Hale said, “Captain, the enemy is shifting their position. They’re firing at us instead of finishing off the Jaxon escorts.”

  While the Indefatigable maneuvered to open the range, the Destiny turned to strike her across her stern, again hitting with good effect.

  A minute later, the sensor operator reported, “Captain the enemy is changing course.”

  “Enemy is now on an intercept course toward the Destiny, Captain.”

  “Evasive action! Fire!”

  The Indefatigable’s first punch—missed wide to starboard.

  Gunny fired repeatedly, targeting the frigate with increasing effectiveness. Joshua’s voice squeaked, “The frigate is firing again.”

  Hawkins ordered, “Weapons; target their engines.”

  The Destiny swung hard right, spewing laser fire while the Indefatigable tried to get a lock. The energy blast glanced off the enemy hull, inflicting considerable radiation damage, but not seriously diminishing the ship’s capabilities.

  Joshua reported from CIC, “Enemy is firing missiles.”

  Hawkins ordered the release of counter measures including radar
confusing material and decoy drones.

  Again the enemy maneuvered and fired ray guns. This salvo was dead on target causing the Destiny’s environmental control alarm to flash red.

  “Sensors," said Hawkins, "Range and bearing to the target?”

  “Range 2 light-seconds, bearing 100 mark3.”

  “Lock guns on target and fire.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Hawkins ordered, “Helm, correct our course to match the enemy’s maneuvers.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The Destiny swung slightly to minimize its angle. By virtue of its superior accumulated speed, they closed rapidly.

  He squirmed in his chair to get a better view of the screen.

  The Destiny scored another hit on the Indefatigable’s hull.

  He barked, “Helm, hard to port” just as two explosions battered the ship in quick succession. An energy beam exploded on the Destiny, rocking the ship like a child’s rattle. The blast overwhelmed the shields, penetrated the hull, and shocked the inertial compensators. Deep within the Destiny, an internal fluid tank strained under the impact, then exploded in a blinding flash. Hawkins was flung violently from his chair and the acrid stench of smoke and ash invaded his nostrils. He coughed, his lungs screaming for air.

  What happened?

  Sparks sputtered from the weapons control panel and a ruptured pipe spewed hydraulic fluid onto the deck. The Destiny shuddered as more internal systems convulsed from the impact.

  Hawkins struggled to gather his senses. Only semiconscious, he thought he heard indistinct voices calling his name, but he couldn’t seem to open his eyes. He wiped blood off his face, unaware of how he had cut his head and shook it, trying to clear the buzzing in his ears.

  Slowly his head cleared, and he realized that the buzzing was static from the communications intercom. The voice became louder and more insistent.

  “Are you all right, Captain?” Hale prodded him. “You’re covered in blood.”

  Hawkins staggered to his feet and looked at the carnage in his bridge, then down at himself, and said, “I don’t think all of it is mine.”

  He felt the heat, breathed the thin air, saw the electric sparks and flashing lights, heard the clamor of alarms and the groans of the wounded and the disembodied voice repeating, “Warning: Life support out of service.” The sights and sounds of the ship reflected his own pain. Still he waited, waited for the opportunity to spring a counterattack.

  There were rattling, hissing, clanging alarms, and a flourish of blaring sirens making the ship sound like another world. Within the ship, minor and major crises competed for attention.

  Gasping for breath, heart pounding, Hawkins staggered back to his control console and croaked, “Damage?”

  Gunny reported, “Jamie, the last blast took out most of our guns.”

  What do you do when you’re out of options?

  Hawkins closed his eyes and let his mind drift for a moment.

  Would the enemy captain outguess him? What new tactic was he thinking of to finish off the Destiny?

  What next?

  Hawkins ordered the Destiny to move even closer. Several pencil-thin beams streaked from the enemy, penetrating her shields and striking the armored hull.

  Hawkins watched his crew work furiously to restore order and functionality to his ship. Running his eyes around the bridge crew, he was proud of their dedicated response and knew he could return his attention to his main task of fighting the enemy.

  The Indefatigable fired another broadside.

  Both ships had suffered severe damage and the pace of the battle slowed as they turned their attention to repairs.

  The crew of the Destiny worked furiously: extinguishing fires, isolating hull ruptures and restore pressurize to the compartments, taking the injured to medical stations. Propulsion still worked, but the ship had its maneuverability and couldn’t turn, either to attack or defend itself.

  A stroke of luck!

  Hawkins saw that the Indefatigable had also lost maneuverability. It was headed toward the system’s star, moving away from the Destiny.

  Hawkins watched his men restart systems only to see them fail again. His voice was hoarse from shouting orders over the din of ruptured equipment, burst pipes, and sparking electronics.

  He felt the ship shudder again from yet another internal explosion. Punching a few buttons, he asked the medical center, “What’s your status?”

  He sank into his chair in shock at the response, “Overflowing with injured, sir.” Then his jaw tightened and his eyes regained their steely glint. At the thought of his ship slipping back into confusion and destruction, his went into overdrive. His next series of orders addressed the sequence of fixes needed to organize the crew and bring the ship back to life.

  Repair crews reported that all fires were now under control, and engineering had restored two-thirds power, and most systems had at least minimal functionality. Hale oversaw a team to clear damaged structures from the bridge.

  The ship stabilized and its course straightened as the helm regained power.

  Hawkins ordered an intercept course toward the Indefatigable. The engines throbbed under the strain of the course change, but they made the turn smoothly and closed in.

  They had suffered enough damage—now it was time to inflict some.

  As soon as they were in range, Hawkins ordered, “Fire.”

  The Destiny’s aim was true and the frigate shook from the hit.

  “Give them another.”

  Again the frigate took significant damage.

  The gap between the ships closed, but Hawkins knew this was no time to relax—the situation on the Destiny was fragile.

  He drove in, bringing his guns to bear for a knockout punch—targeting the destroyer with the goal of crippling its bridge.

  “Fire!”

  Direct hit!

  He once more concentrated all weapons’ fire on her engines until the Indefatigable could no longer maneuver. The Indefatigable had lost all engine control and was adrift in space, but she kept up a wicked rate of fire.

  During this time, the convoy kept on course heading in system, its two devastated escorts abandoning ship. The other Hellion ships were struggling with their own problems and unable to join the battle. The Pollux and Retribution fought the crippled Hellion frigates while the Liberty rounded up the two cargo ships and sent men aboard to take them over.

  However, the Destiny and Indefatigable were both badly damaged and drifting close together. They engaged in slugging match with their last remaining heavy guns pounding each other to pieces. However, the Indefatigable was the larger ship with the stronger shield and heavier weapons and it was exacting the heavier toll on its opponent.

  Destiny was losing the slugfest.

  The insides of the Destiny had taken a terrific pounding with multiple hull ruptures streaming vital air into space. Many bulkheads were shattered, and vital systems were burning. Most grievous of all was the environmental life support which was destroyed beyond repair.

  Hawkins could no longer hear the ventilation fans which constantly feed air throughout the ship. Humans are fragile and they relied on their protective shell of a ship to supply them with the environment of life. The ventilation system was an essential part of that. With the failure of ventilation it was only a matter of time before they would all either suffocate from the slow poison of carbon dioxide build up or face the inevitable depressurization due to the many hull penetrations.

  The Destiny was now a doomed ship. Destined to become lifeless, and eventually explode, within a short time.

  It stung Hawkins’s heart to see the havoc his ship was enduring.

  Hale said, “Jamie, we’ve lost. Our ship is disintegrating around us. We’re doomed. We must abandon ship.”

  “If my ship is doomed, then I’ll find one that isn’t.”

  Over the intercom, he ordered, “Prepare shuttles with boarding parties. We are taking the Indefatigable.”

 
; “There’s no chance,” said Hale, incredulous.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” said Hawkins. “There’s always a chance.”

  He maneuvered the Destiny as close as possible to the Indefatigable and concentrated all fire on her engines until she was adrift. Then the shuttles full of desperate men moved to capture the Indefatigable.

  The resistance was stubborn and valiant, but the desperate fury of the rebels with no place to retreat to, pressed on until after a furious climatic battle on her bridge, the Indefatigable’s last remaining officer, finally surrendered.

  The labors of Hawkins’s crew were not ended, just yet. The Indefatigable had to be made fit once more. While emergency repairs were being made, the Pollux and Retribution collected the convoy, destroyed the badly damaged Hellion frigate, and chased away the other damaged Hellion ships.

  One bonus of capturing the Indefatigable was the intact capture of that ship’s communication encryption/decoding equipment. Hawkins immediately set Joshua to work on discovering how to use it.

  Hawkins lounged in his new captain’s chair. He was pleased with his new, larger ship, and he liked the name, Indefatigable.

  Hale said, “Jamie, never was a victory snatched from so close a defeat.”

  His blue eyes sparkling, Hawkins looked around at his new ship.

  He grinned, “I make it a fair trade.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Matters of Trust

  It was strange for these two men to face each other—eyes locked—Hawkins cautious but curious, Hale self-assured but bemused. With impatient glances, they waited as the other officers finished their breakfast and left them seated at the wardroom table.

  Hale leaned back in his chair and let his face slip into an uneasy amusement. He repeated what he had said minutes earlier, “I received a message from Alyssa.”

  He dropped a spoonful of sweetener into his stim-coffee and stirred it, slowly and methodically, clockwise—all the while keeping his eyes locked on Hawkins across the table—appraising his reaction.

  “That’s odd,” said Hawkins, thoughtfully. “Why is she sending messages to you?” He examined his friend, colleague, and comrade from every possible angle.