The Santana Nexus (Junkyard Dogs Book 3)

by Nolte, Phillip

  At the distances they were operating from, the Beastie's gun crew couldn't miss. With the weapon targeting a more or less single assembly on the heavy cruiser and the alternating beams from port and starboard projectors firing at the combined rate of ten pulses per second, the front turret of the Hercules was jackhammered with more than thirty pulse bolts in a little over three seconds. The cruiser's shields, already struggling with the pulse impacts from the three destroyers, had flared to incandescence and subsided to nothing during the first second of the barrage and the next twenty or more pulses had impacted on a virtually unprotected turret. When the Beastie ceased firing, the front battery of the Hercules was simply...no longer there! In its place was a smoking hole with a few jagged remnants of the once proud turret ringed around the damaged area.

  "Good Lord!" said Kresge, from his position near Helmsford on the bridge. "You said this weapon was powerful but that doesn't seem to be the half of it! I didn't expect anything like this! Are they still powering that damper module?"

  "Affirmative, Commander," came the reply from the sensor operator, "I am still detecting that strange frequency."

  Kresge mulled that over for a moment and was suddenly struck with an inspiration.

  "Jennifer?" he said, "I have a suggestion. What if we swung around and attacked her from the side. If we come in a little towards the front of the ship, they won't be able to target us with the rear battery. When we're aimed right at him, if we to roll the ship ninety degrees to starboard and swing those projectors across her from top to bottom, I'll bet we could cut her entire bow end right off! That would almost have to interrupt power to the damper module."

  Helmsford immediately grasped what Kresge was suggesting.

  "Gun crew?" she said, over the intercom, "We're going to attack that cruiser from the side. When we get lined up, we'll execute a ninety degree roll. After that roll, I want you to swing that gun across the fuselage of that cruiser from top to bottom. Let's see if we can cut her in two!"

  "I think I know what you want, Commander," replied Leiber.

  The Beastie swung around from her eleven o'clock frontal attack on the cruiser to a vector that aimed her towards the enemy ship from the cruiser's port side. The crew of the Hercules had managed to get her shields back up but the three destroyers were keeping her occupied with constant fire from their main batteries. The Asimov, in particular, was maintaining heavy pressure with her rapid-fire 2000 gigajoule main battery projectors. The cruiser's shields were glowing an ominous violet color again. As instructed, the helmsman of the Beastie made sure that the ship was forward of the extreme firing arc of the rear main battery. As soon as the Beastie was lined up with the Hercules, the helmsman rolled the ship ninety degrees to starboard.

  Meanwhile, in the Bofor's turret, the Conrad Lieber swung the emplacement to port, which aimed the port side projector at the very top of the cruiser and the starboard projector somewhere lower on the hull. He then initiated the extreme rapid firing sequence combined with a slow swing of the turret to starboard.

  "Firing port and starboard projectors, full emergency firing rate, in three, two one, firing!"

  The results were devastating...

  The rip of God's own chainsaw again rattled through the prototype ship. Debris and atmosphere seemed to be flying everywhere from the bow end of the hapless cruiser. Again, the cruiser's shields went down within the first few seconds. With the enemy's shields down, the gun captain, per instructions, calmly walked the rapid fire cannons down across the side profile of the Hercules. Debris continued to spew violently out of the impact area. When the turret had traversed the width of the ship, the gun captain stopped firing and saw that the cruiser was...cut into two pieces! The bow, which had been chewed off just in front of where the front battery had been, was trailing debris and crewmen while also venting atmosphere and fluids as it began to drift slowly away from the stern section. In the meantime, combined fire from the point blank broadsides of the three destroyers had destroyed the now unshielded rear main battery as well.

  The Hercules was a mess. Main power was down and the ship was frightfully damaged. The Beastie completed her flyby and arced back, as if to make another pass. With his ship in two pieces and both turrets of his main battery destroyed, the acting Captain of the Hercules knew he'd had enough and surrendered before the Beastie could make another pass and complete the total destruction of his once proud ship. With his communications out, he used a spacesuit radio to contact the Federation forces.

  "Enough! Hercules surrenders! For the love of Allah, cease fire!"

  "Cease fire for the time being everyone," said Helmsford, "I repeat, cease fire!"

  The ships of the Junkyard Dogs Strike Force called off the attack.

  "Foul Beastie, indeed!" said Kresge, "I'm keeping this ship for the defense of the Scrapyard!"

  "I want status reports on everything!" said Helmsford.

  "Reactor one is operating normally," reported Harris, from down in engineering, "Shields back at one hundred percent!"

  "Reactor two be barely working hard, Commander," said Hawkins, also from down in the engineering section.

  "Thank you, engineering," replied the Captain. "Stay on top of things, you know we'd be foolish to count on this string of luck to continue!"

  "Aye, Captain," said Harris.

  "Turret systems are all well within normal limits, Commander," said Leiber. "That cooling system ain't much to look at but it sure does seem to work. These guns are only heated up a little bit and are well below maximum operating temperatures. We could fight at least another eight to ten minutes at that rate of fire, maybe even longer if we had to."

  "Let's hope we don't have to," replied Kresge.

  "I'm not reading that odd transmission any longer, Commander," said the sensor operator.

  Kresge called Captain Nesbitt, "Asimov?" he radioed, "It looks like we've managed to deactivate the hyperdrive field damper. Use your Stage two communicator to inform the Federation that the Sol-Terra hyperlink should now be functional again. Request that they send reinforcements immediately!"

  A few minutes later, Kresge got a message back from the Asimov. "Reinforcements on their way, Commander. Can we hold out for another couple of hours?"

  "I guess we'll have to," replied Kresge.

  "Let's all microjump towards the Nexus Station, we have some more of the Sheik's ships to deal with. With communications down, they aren't going to know about the destruction of that cruiser for several hours yet. We should still be able to surprise them. We need to take out as many of the Sheik's destroyers as we can before anyone gets on to us. Asimov? Contact the Scrapyard and tell them to send those two mining ships and the Dingo. They can wait out here by the hyperlink point until it's safe to come in to the station. I want them here and ready to unload our forces as soon as it's feasible."

  "Aye, Aye, Commander!" radioed Nesbitt.

  The four ships of the Junkyard Dogs Strike Force microjumped towards the Nexus Station leaving the ravaged hulk of the Hercules behind.

  Chapter 59.

  Santana Nexus Station, weightless gymnastics arena, January 12, 2599.

  Back in the tenth ring hub area of the Santana Station, Fahada had made several more passes across the arena attempting to wound or kill her virtually unarmed prey. Carlisle had so far been able to avoid any further injuries but she knew that it was only a matter of time before that situation changed. The wound on her left leg wasn't bleeding badly, but it was bleeding. Worse, she was breathing heavily and could feel the stitch in her side where her ribs had been injured during her last altercation with Fahada. There had simply been insufficient time for her to fully recover her stamina and she was well aware that she was tiring rapidly and would not be able to continue at this pace for very much longer. Momentarily resting against one of the padded walls of the arena, she took a series of deep breaths, to recover as much as possible before having to make her next move.

  Ever mindful of what her opponent was
doing, she remained aware of Fahada's behavior at all times. As Carlisle looked across the arena, there was some satisfaction in seeing that her assailant was also breathing heavily.

  Carlisle had lost all track of time but knew that it couldn't be too much longer before the Resistance would be attempting to separate ring ten from the rest of the station. She also knew that the gymnastics arena was located in the hub of the tenth ring. If the separation happened anytime soon, she would be marooned along with most of the Sheik's army!

  During this brief respite, while both of the contestants were taking a moment to catch their breath, the Ensign had a rare moment to think. In the course of avoiding Fahada's repeated attacks, she had noticed that the assassin followed some patterns; that her foe had some tendencies, maybe Carlisle could take advantage of them?

  Fahada looked back across the arena at the little Spacer warrior and her eyes narrowed. It was time to end this spectacle. She herself was beginning to get tired. She had fought dozens of opponents under these same conditions in the past year but none of them had ever lasted half this long. And this little fool wasn't even really armed! She smiled inwardly. She had merely been toying with the Federation's little pet Spacer. This show had gone on long enough, it was time to finish this. She would begin to press the attack in earnest.

  Fahada lined herself up and launched another attack.

  This next pass was almost fatal for Carlisle. Fahada broke with her previous pattern of attack. Without Carlisle noticing, she had switched the quantum knife to her other hand! Carlisle had been using her tethers to take advantage of the fact that Fahada had, so far, been wielding the knife in her right hand. Her instincts for self-preservation dictated that she stay to Fahada's left side.

  Carlisle saw the change a microsecond before it was too late and managed to block Fahada's new knife arm away at the last instant. As they parted, she felt a burn along the bottom of her right forearm. Fahada had drawn blood again!

  As she rested against the wall for a short moment afterwards, Carlisle realized she wouldn't be able to steer clear of serious or fatal injury for more than another pass or two. Sooner or later, Fahada would get lucky or Carlisle would make a mistake. Probably sooner, as tired as she was getting. For the umpteenth time, Carlisle wished that she had a quantum knife of her own. Or, at the very least, a better weapon.

  "Think, Tamara!" she said to herself under her breath. Her academy instructors had always emphasized that a good tactician makes the best use of what they have on hand and Carlisle was nothing if not an excellent tactician. As her tactical mind raced to find a solution, it dawned on her that she did have another weapon, more than one of them in fact!

  From the time that she had begun practicing with the powered tethers, when she was less than five years old, Tamara Carlisle had yet to meet anyone who was better at using them than she was. There had been several times during this dire situation she currently found herself in that she had only been able to get out of trouble because she could do things with a tether that Fahada hadn't expected. The solution that came to her was risky, but the grim truth was that she had nothing to lose, her captors weren't letting her out of this arena until after she was dead. She came to the stark realization that she had better find a way to end this contest before Fahada did!

  Carlisle readied herself for the next pass.

  As had been the case with all of the other runs, both of the combatants were currently on opposite sides of the arena, up against the padded wall, catching their respective breaths.

  Fahada began to line herself up to make another rush at Carlisle. As had been the case with all of the other attack runs, Carlisle didn't dare do anything until her opponent committed herself to some kind of attack vector so she could figure out what the best countermove was going to be. Fahada sprung off from the wall to perform what appeared to be another straight on frontal attack. This time Carlisle waited until her attacker was almost upon her before she feinted as though she was going to attempt her escape by shoving downward. Fahada had been waiting for that tactic and immediately shot the tether from her right wrist towards the "floor" of the arena in anticipation of pulling herself in that direction in pursuit of Carlisle.

  Instead of heading for the floor of the arena, the Ensign kicked out directly at Fahada. The Sheik's assassin, with a triumphant grin on her face as she smelled a victory coming, cocked her knife arm, the left one again this time, to deliver the fatal strike. From a distance of about two meters, Carlisle fired the tether on her right wrist, not at one of the walls this time but directly into the face of her opponent! Fahada was momentarily stunned as the grappling pad of the tether smacked her right in the middle of her forehead. Carlisle shot past Fahada and used her momentum to put as much impact as she could muster into a vicious kick that she delivered to the side of Fahada's head.

  The Sheik's killer was knocked unconscious and as her weightless body twisted limply in reaction to the blow she had received, she became entangled in the same tether that had stunned her. Carlisle used that tether to pull herself back to her now defeated opponent. The first thing she did was secure the quantum knife. The knife had a trigger stud that had to be held down to activate the blade. With Fahada rendered unconscious, the blade was no longer deployed. Carlisle ditched her useless practice knife and slipped the thong that had kept the quantum knife loosely attached to Fahada's wrist around her own right wrist.

  In the space of a few heartbeats the tables had turned completely. Carlisle was alive, she was armed and she had a valuable hostage. Things could have been worse. Within a few more moments, several of the guards were almost certain to enter the arena, probably with stun rods and simply stun Carlisle to avoid further injuring Fahada and take them both out of the arena. With little time to react, Carlisle remembered some other things that non-gymnasts probably wouldn't know. She knew that several of the locker and preparation rooms were just on the other side of the arena walls. The guards were no doubt watching all of the normal exits, so escape by any of those routes was going to be difficult, if not impossible. Carlisle would not be using any of those normal exits.

  Now that she had armed herself with a quantum knife, she'd make her own exit!

  She considered her options for just a moment and decided that her chances were better for the time being if she kept her hostage with her. She took a few more precious seconds to wrap Fahada up a bit more securely with the tether. By the time she finished, the door on the other side of the arena was opening. Carlisle thought she could see the end of a stun rod starting to poke though the crack as the door was pushed open. She got a secure hold on Fahada and shot her remaining tether up at the blank panel of the ceiling. She reeled herself up until she made contact with the ceiling, grabbed the handle of the quantum knife in her right hand and pushed the activation button. A violet line outlined the shape of the otherwise invisible blade. She plunged the knife into the ceiling and cut out a lopsided circle, the molecule-wide blade cutting through padding and metal alike as though they were paper. She pushed the circle upwards and unceremoniously shoved her hostage through the opening before following behind her. She found herself in the same compartment they had brought her to earlier where they had forced her to change out of her clothes. There was no time to get dressed but she slipped off the cuff of the tether that was entangling Fahada, and with a sense of immense relief, slipped her wrist computer back on. With the schematics it contained, a single tether and the quantum knife, maybe she could figure out a way to escape!

  With no idea whatsoever about how much more time remained before the separation of the tenth ring. She decided that her best course was simply to get off from the tenth ring immediately by the shortest route she could find. Fortunately, the weightless gymnastics arena was located in the spindle of the station. All Carlisle had to do was to find a way to get herself a little further northward and into the spindle area of the ninth ring.

  She might even be reasonably safe on the tenth ring except that when the
ring separated, there would be a number of connections between the spindle components of the ninth and tenth rings that would be depressurized. If any of the completely untested safety overrides on the station malfunctioned, the extent of the depressurization could easily involve even more of the two hubs than expected. There was also the matter of hostile pursuit. If she could get to the ninth ring spindle area, she would find some of her friends and finally, she hoped, safety. As she pulled up a schematic of the station on her wrist computer, she heard a commotion in the corridor outside.

  She fought down another wave of panic. Think, Tamara, you looked at the schematics for this station several times over the last few weeks. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. Whoever her pursuers were, they had misjudged where she had exited the arena and were hammering on the door of the compartment next door.

  Carlisle opened her eyes again and scanned the schematic. There! There was a ventilation shaft in the ceiling just couple of meters above her present location. She should get to that and see what options she had from there. In an effort to buy a little bit more time, she went over and locked the door to the compartment.

  Carlisle then took a long look at her unconscious hostage. What to do? Bring her along? Carlisle had a brief vision of her trying to guide the limp form of Fahada through ventilation shafts and into some of the other tight spaces she might have to go into and decided that no, a hostage would slow her down way too much. Fahada was one of the enemy's deadliest champions and the woman had just spent the better part of a half hour trying to kill the Ensign for sport. Maybe Carlisle should just kill her, quickly and cleanly. She wouldn't even have to use the quantum knife.

  Fahada certainly deserved to die for all of the evil she'd done in the name of the Sheik!

  Carlisle grasped the quantum knife in her right hand but after one more look at the tied up, helpless and unconscious form of her former opponent she rejected that idea immediately. She had killed several men in single combat before but this...this was different, a helpless, unconscious and tied up victim was another thing entirely. Even if it was justifiable, recommended even, it just felt...wrong! The words that Lieutenant Harris had spoken when she had sought his comfort after her bad dream came back to her, "You're not a killer, Tamara, you're a soldier and there is a big difference!" She briefly wondered longingly if she'd ever see him again.