Lieutenant Delaine was already on the bridge. She didn’t look up from her station as Aaron entered.
“Interdiction drone pulled us from warp,” she said. “Two Border Worlds navy ships, directly ahead. Our warp capabilities are offline.”
Vee reported from the ops station. “Two Broadsword-class destroyers, weapons primed. They’ve painted us with the whole gamut of targeting sensors. Looks like they’re already spoiled for a fight, Commander.”
Aaron sat on the edge of the command chair, these weren’t USSF ships—they were local Border Worlds Navy. The transponder used by Phoenix and supplied by Fleet Intel should have signaled to anyone curious, the ship was a Border Worlds civilian liner. The only way to confirm a ship’s identity was within intra-system distances, and the two destroyers now closed at a fraction of such a distance. Fifty million kilometers ahead.
“Receiving a hail, Commander,” Vee said.
“Unknown ship, you have violated United Star System space, specifically that of the Border Worlds Alliance. Your transponder was found to be fraudulent. You will power down and stand by for boarding procedures. Any resistance will be met with deadly force. Acknowledge immediately.”
Lee craned his neck over. “What do we do, Commander?”
“Aaron, we can’t fire on a USS member world’s ships,” Vee said.
“We can’t let them destroy us either,” Flaps added.
“They’re firing!” Lee said.
A volley from the forward railguns on the lead ship cruised harmlessly by millions of kilometers away. A warning shot. The lead destroyer was signaling its intent.
“Commander?” Vee asked.
“Gravity wave dispersion,” Aaron said. “The system you unlocked, Vee. I have to access it and grant command authorization. Stall them. Take over and open a channel to the lead ship. I need a minute here.”
“Aye, Commander.”
“Destroyer Captain,” Vee began, “this vessel possesses advanced weaponry. If you attempt to board her, you will be destroyed. If you impede our progress you will be destroyed.”
The blood drained from Aaron’s face, when he said stall them, he hadn’t considered Vee would threaten them! He moved over to Flaps and Lee whose stations were side by side. “Ensign, pre-programmed course, right underneath them, flank speed. Lee, those matter-antimatter torpedoes, input an updating firing solution for them to detonate one million kilometers in front those ships after we’ve passed.”
In the background, he overheard Vee, “We intend no harm to the Border Worlds or USSF, but if attacked we will defend—”
The destroyer captain cut in. “You have thirty seconds to comply.” The destroyer would be in firing range then.
“Vee, command authority is entered in the system, stand by to activate the gravity wave dispersion and engage full stealth protocols once we’re clear,” Aaron said.
“Lee, target the interdiction drone. Vee, polarize the armor. Ensign, on my order execute planned maneuvers. Stand by, Lee.”
He watched on the tactical display as the destroyers closed to their optimal weapons range. One would cut them off from making the jump to light speed—the other would pound them from the flanks. The holographic representation of what the ship’s sensors detected also displayed on a screen nearby. His focus alternated between the two.
The first destroyer blew past Phoenix along her starboard beam blasting a salvo from its railguns. The new armor would likely withstand the impacts, or this would be a short escape. In order to make the jump to light speed, they had to build forward speed on a direct vector up to .4 c. If they took evasive maneuvers, they would be forever attempting to avoid incoming fire and never escape the pincer movement. Sometimes you had to take a bloody nose, to win the fight.
The ship heaved under the impact of the destroyer’s passing volley.
“The armor is intact,” Vee reported. “Reflective polarization definitely keeping it together, minor stress along starboard armor plates, no internal damage.”
Aaron knew Flaps and Lee were both ready. He wanted a specific sequence executed. They knew him wee and they would wait for his precise orders during these time sensitive tactical maneuvers. “Stand by, gentlemen . . . Miroslav, punch it . . . Lee, weapons free.”
Similar to a swift kick to the rear of a horse, Phoenix surged forward faster than any ship of such mass should have been capable. She fired a burst from her dorsal railgun, obliterating the interdiction drone. Phoenix shuddered from more impacts. The armor plating seemed to groan, but she cruised ahead straight and true. She accelerated beyond combat speeds, and surged ahead at full power nearing the threshold required for the jump to light speed.
As Phoenix blew past and underneath the looming destroyer, the rear torpedo tube blasted a volley of matter-antimatter warheads. The torpedoes detonated one million kilometers before impact and unleashed a wash of radiation over several light-minutes of space, blinding the destroyers.
Aaron shouted above some lingering railgun impacts. “Now, Ensign! Vee, activate the gravity wave dispersion.”
“Done. Computer informs its functioning within normal parameters,” Vee said.
“.4 c, approaching threshold to light speed . . . Phoenix jumping . . . now!” the Ensign said.
Before accelerating to multiples of c, the ship would still be within range of the sensor suite of the destroyers. The massive amount of radiation released in the same vicinity blinded the sensors of the interlopers and they would be unaware of Phoenix’s escape vector.
The gravity wave dispersion system should prevent planetary defenses from tracking Phoenix and relaying its movements to the destroyers or any other vessels nearby.
“1000 c, Flaps, that’s your max speed for now,” Aaron said.
If the order puzzled the young Ensign, he didn’t show it.
“Aye, sir, 1000 c,” he said.
“Commander,” Vee said from his station. “That speed will delay our arrival at Atlas Prime by another four days.”
“It’s just until we get closer,” Aaron said. “Disable the transponder, it’s useless. We’ll have to find clever ways to stay hidden from here on out.”
“Commander,” Lee said. “I’ve made myself familiar with local phenomena to this region. Emission nebula X-1501-D will provide a safe haven for us. We can dump our heat within it. We won’t have to worry about any ships being redirected to investigate the unusual blip on Atlas Prime’s thermal sensor grid.”
“What’s our ETA to the nebula?” Aaron asked.
“Six hours at present speed,” Lee replied.
“Do it. But don’t take the ship inside, hold station within one light-hour of the nebula. The interference should still be able to mask us from that distance. We’ll use one of the auxiliary combat craft to take us the rest of the way to Atlas.”
A prototype starship must have prototype support craft. He knew Flaps had been spending unhealthy hours in the hangar.
“Flaps, you’ve been familiarizing yourself with the Arrows. Prep one for departure. Make sure it’s fully armed and stocked. You never know how long we’ll be in it.”
“Aye, I’m on it, Commander,” Flaps said. He rose and left the bridge.
Max burst onto the bridge. “What was all the excitement about?”
“Two Border Worlds destroyers engaged us,” Aaron said. “We’re clear for now, headed for a nebula. Our transponder is useless, we’re sneaking in from here on out.”
“Right, good job. If everyone’s okay, I’ll get back to my important business. The detective is about to find out who did it. I’d hate to have my atoms scattered across this sector before I find out who done it.”
Was he really referring to his paper novel at a time like this? Max was a man clearly unmoved by the events of the universe.
“Give us a few minutes,” Aaron said. “Let’s wrap our heads around what our course diversion means for our plans on Atlas Prime.”
Rachael came over and joined Max and Aaron
at the command chair. Lee swiveled to face them.
Aaron stood and moved to the back of the bridge where they followed him. They all stood around a holo-table. He brought up a three dimensional view of Atlas Prime. He nodded to Rachael.
“Let’s make sure we’re all on the same page,” he said.
She nodded and explained to the group the initial contact a supposed Separatist made with USSI. Supreme Commander Shepherd personally handled the communications and over a period, they confirmed the individual as a reliable source.
“Finally,” she said. “Based on the source’s knowledge and revelations, we believe they are either a military officer, or a civilian highly placed within the government,” she concluded.
Aaron continued. “Our last known contact was here,” he said, pointing to a triangle shaped icon with the apex inverted. “We don’t know who he or she is. We only information the source provided has been independently confirmed by Rachael’s people prior to our arrival. Despite the unknowns, Shepherd felt strongly we had to jump at any opportunity given the exigency of the situation. He provided us with a set of coordinates to transmit a pre-arranged code.”
Atlas Prime was a continental world similar to Earth but instead of seven continents, it had sixteen. First discovered by a USSF expeditionary squadron two hundred and fifty years ago. More than a few skirmishes erupted over the rights to settle the planet.
The Border Worlds was born in conflict.
“Commander,” Lee said. “What’s our course of action if we’re unable to locate the contact?”
“Unless we can find someone else willing to expose the conspiracy within the USS. Then our two fleets are likely to clash. Kicking off an interstellar war that will make the last war seem like a skirmish. Flaps will take Lee, Rachael and myself to Atlas. Vee will remain with the ship. Max, you’re with us. If our contact isn’t where he’s supposed to be, we’ll improvise some other means of attempting to locate him. Whatever that is, will be determined when the time comes. We won’t simply give up if we’re unable to make contact on our first attempt. Any other questions?”
There were none.
Aaron continued. “The team will use the smuggling route USSI provided, to land on Atlas. Good to know bribery is still a powerful tool in spy games.” He hoped it was bribery, or perhaps the USSI created the clandestine means of getting planet side themselves. Maybe they suggested something bad might happen to some poor orbital defense operator’s family—should he or she not cooperate. “Once we’re down, we’ll send the prearranged signal, and await contact at the predetermined location. From there, we’ll give it twelve hours. If we get nothing. We put plan ‘i’ in motion.”
Rachael furrowed her brow. “Plan ‘eye’?
“Plan improvise. Rachael, help Flaps prep for departure.” Aaron turned to Lee. “Bring some of those toys you collected on Luyten.” he said.
Lee had an excited grin on his face. “How many, Commander?”
“Lots of them.”
****
Aaron left the bridge heading to his quarters for his equipment bag. He wasn’t far before Max caught up with him.
“Aaron, I’m not USSF personnel, you can’t order me to go anywhere.”
Aaron kept walking. “Article 39 of the USSF emergency convention states: ‘during a sierra sierra sierra priority mission. A Fleet officer, not less than the rank of Commander, has the authority to draft into service, anyone whom he reasonably believes could be of assistance to prevent the invasion and occupation of USS space by hostile forces’.”
“Really . . . Article 39 . . . I’ve never heard of that number, doesn’t it stop at 30?”
“Only officers of commander rank and above are aware of the order.”
Max’s nostrils flared. “That’s great! If only you’re aware of it, how is anyone else supposed to know it even exists!”
“Because, commanders are in positions of trust and have in depth knowledge of Fleet movements, defenses and emergency protocols,” he grinned. “And since I am well trusted, you have to trust that my word is true.”
“Perhaps if this were coming from another USSF commander, I’d believe in the remote possibility this Article 39 existed,” Max said.
They rounded the aft corridor on the crew deck, stopping in front Aaron’s Quarters. “But?” Aaron asked.
“But coming from you, I call shenanigans.”
“Max, if you want to stay and keep Vee company, then do so. I hope he forces you to run diagnostic checks on all the backup systems.”
The doors to Aaron’s quarters closed cutting off whatever Max mumbled which sounded something like “flying through atmosphere on a metal trap piloted by a kid”.
Chapter 17 – Mission given, Mission accomplished
Atlas Prime
Atlas was a tech-5 world. Despite that, the corporations knew not everyone who qualified for employment in advanced research, wanted to live in sky cities. With that in mind, tech-5 worlds catered for their brilliant employees who hailed from other worlds where these towering ceramic skylines didn’t exist.
A paltry one billion out of Atlas’s twenty-one billion people lived on the surface where the infrastructure mimicked a tech-3 and tech-4 world. The lower city had the usual residential and industrial areas. There were research and manufacturing districts. Completing the image was a maze of streets and other infrastructure each similar to the concrete jungles of twenty-first century Earth.
Nearly an hour ago the Commander and Lieutenant Delaine made their way up into a nearby atmospheric tower to rendezvous with the Separatist contact. Lee and Miroslav sat in a booth in what Lee supposed was a classy diner. They would provide backing for the Commander if the need arose. He loathed all this sitting and waiting. He was certain the Commander despised this duty as much as he did. In fact, he’d only agreed to volunteer for the mission because they said the Commander would need his skills.
If Commander Rayne ordered him to decompress an airlock and blast himself into space without a suit—he would. He would follow him to the end.
You’re the only sharpshooter and unparalleled martial artist in the Fleet. That’s what Supreme Commander Shepherd told him when he recruited them for the mission. How did that qualify him as an intelligence operative? He shook his head—either Shepherd was an overly optimistic fellow or the man had a morbid sense of humor.
Only time would tell.
Everyone else might feel he was impulsive, maybe rash, but he was command material compared to the puny flyboy Yuri “Flaps” Miroslav. The kid’s ego was larger than a star’s corona. While Lee could appreciate the intricacies involved in clandestine ops, he wasn’t quite sure about Flaps. How could the USSF possibly think it was a good idea to let someone so young near the controls of a starship?
The annoying pilot asked the same question again, for what seemed like the tenth time in less than an hour.
“So what are we looking for, Lee?”
Lee drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked at Flaps. It seemed on this mission Lee would be playing the role of Vee. He set the gear with his “toys” down next to them as the server delivered their order.
“Anything unusual. I don’t know. If I see it, I’ll tell you what it is.”
“I hate being in one place so long. I mean sitting and piloting is one thing, but just sitting here staring out, at who knows what, waiting for who knows what, and just—
The kid’s nickname was more appropriate than anyone thought. Sometimes he believed the pilot made up the whole story about forgetting to deploy the mechanism to slow his atmosphere jet to a safe speed.
It was far more likely he got the name because his mouth never seemed to stop flapping.
“Flaps . . . quiet. You’re disturbing me. Whether you feel threatened or not, make no mistake—we are in some form of danger just by being here. We don’t know who might be aware of our mission or who might be expecting us. This assignment has too many unknowns. Don’t forget Rigel. This e
ntire shindig is unusual. Fleet officers—with no real operative training other than myself—deployed on a mission supposedly of this importance? Just run it around in your own head quietly, see what conclusion you come to and keep it to yourself. But something isn’t right with this entire setup.”
Miroslav sipped his dark beverage. “I think you’re reading too much into this,” he said, smacking his lips. “You’re hanging around the spy lady too much. She’s contaminated all of you with her paranoia. You just need to relax. Look at me I’m the still photo of relaxation.”
“Picture,” Lee corrected.
“What?”
“If you’re going to borrow old Earth slang, at least get it right.”
The upstart raised both eyebrows.
“But the Commander uses—
“Commander Rayne was born on Atlas but he was raised by an Earther. So he’ll know them well. You just stick to flying.”
Miroslav sighed. “Why does everyone tell me to stick to flying?”
“Probably because it’s the only thing you’re good at?”
The kid laughed uncomfortably loud. Other patrons briefly glanced in their direction.
“Lee, you know if I didn’t know better . . .”
Lee was staring with intensity at something across the street and Miroslav’s voice trailed off.
“What is it, Lee?” he asked.
“Something strange is happening in the transit station. Come on.”
Lee stood and motioned for Miroslav to follow. He exited the diner and began to make his way across the street to the air-car terminal. He only saw the brief flash before darkness took him.
****
The upper city of Atlas was a stark contrast to the lower levels. Some citizens preferred to live close to the ground. More so those with untreated vertigo. The others just preferred not to be at the mercy of gravity, fearing some freak incident that had never occurred and probably never would.
Border Worlds (United Star Systems Book 1) Page 13
