Voyage of the Valkyrie

by Robert Horseman

  The most interesting things she had learned from the techs was why the ship was shaped like an old rugby ball. The interstellar propulsion system worked by compressing a quarter light-year of space-time in front of the ship, and while normal space was relatively empty, a quarter light-year held a lot of interstellar particles. Thirty years ago when the Valkyrie was built they didn’t know how to deflect those particles with pulse technology, so the ships had to be streamlined. Modern ships tended to be blocky and, in her opinion, ugly.

  “This is the Captain. I am going to read out the general ship orders.” He paused before continuing, “UDA Valkyrie, 20 March 2362. You are hereby requested and required to take the subject stealth vessel to sector eighty-nine-delta and investigate criminal trade activity. Intelligence reports indicate that several rival criminal organizations have joined together in force to raid shipping lanes, and are rumored to be engaged in human trafficking. This group is calling itself Redshift. Their activities violate the UDA laws on human rights and free and unfettered commerce. All efforts shall be expended to minimize the risk to human life, and to safeguard the vessel. However, at your sole discretion, should a criminal vessel engage you or be caught unawares, you are hereby authorized to use whatever force is available to capture the vessel and crew so they may be brought to justice. A list of vessels known to be involved in said activities is attached to these orders.” Another pause, then, “That concludes the general orders. Your division or department leads will fill each of you in on your associated roles. That is all.”

  Now some of the vessel’s technical specifications made sense, thought Mac. The orders had called the Valkyrie a stealth ship, and that information hadn’t been in any of the descriptions she had read of the vessel class. Obviously it wasn’t for public consumption. But she knew the hull was made of carbon nano-tubes, and presented a low energy signature. She had thought the construction method just made the ship lightweight and therefore more maneuverable with higher acceleration, but that was just part of it. Properly used it could make the ship nearly invisible to detection, provided you followed strict emissions protocols. Her heart skipped a beat as she considered that information, and reflected on the rest of the orders. Combat was a real possibility. This cruise might be more exciting and dangerous than she had expected.

  ***

  She stopped by Cale’s quarters between her next bridge watches, and placed her hand on his announcement panel. A moment later the door slid aside, and she saw Cale standing in his boxer shorts with an embarrassed grin on his face.

  “You sure know how to impress the ladies,” she said.

  He puffed out his chest and adopted a hurt expression. “Hey, I’m not on duty, and those damn unitards bind in the most inconvenient places. What can I do for you?”

  Mac paused to leer at him in the hope he would get the message and cover himself, but he stood his ground. Finally she said, “The Captain’s orders called the Valkyrie a stealth ship. That little fact isn’t in anything I’ve read about the vessel class. Do you know anything about it?”

  His chest deflated. “I thought you were here for my body, and all you want is information. Ah well, any attention is good attention, I guess. Come on in.”

  He backed into his small stateroom and hopped up on his bunk. Mac hesitated, then slid into the small square of open deck space. The door slid closed behind her. The room was cluttered with knickknacks, there was an old beat-up guitar on the desk, and there was a musky scent that did strange things to her stomach. “Maybe I should go.”

  “Maybe you should stay.”

  She needed to get his mind working in less primitive directions, so she gestured to the guitar. “That’s quite an antique. You play?”

  “I just started learning it on this cruise. Don’t ask for a demonstration quite yet, unless you want to hear a bad rendition of row, row, row your boat.”

  “Row, row, row my what?”

  “Never mind. You were asking about the ship’s stealth capabilities?”

  “Yes.”

  “I got this information from the Chief Engineer, so you’re getting the story second hand. Back when this old girl was first built, the UDA was fighting piracy in a dozen systems. We needed small fast ships that could hide in open space, and catch the bandits red handed. That was basic piracy, small ships and small profits, unless they managed to abduct someone important in the process. Interstellar crooks are more technologically sophisticated these days, with bigger ships and more powerful weaponry, and the original mission doesn’t exist anymore. But even today there’s a limited demand for scout ships, so they kept the most space worthy examples in service as long as possible. The Valkyrie is one of the few left.” He glanced around the room. “Needs another refit though, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah? It doesn’t seem so bad.”

  “Well this is your first assignment, and all you have for comparison are the castoff vessels at the academy. Trust me, this one’s seen better days. You don’t have to take my word for it though. You’ll reach that conclusion soon enough on your own.”

  Mac decided that a quick exit was appropriate, given how his eyes seemed to be wandering. She put her hand on the door panel, and it slid aside. “Perhaps. Thanks for the intel. See you later on the bridge?”

  He grinned. “Looking forward to it.”

  ***

  Two days later a blaring horn woke her from her usual ‘tween-watch nap, followed by an announcement. “General quarters, general quarters. All hands to action stations.” Her eyes flew open and her heart thudded as she tried to get her foggy brain to shake off the cobwebs. Action stations for personnel on watch, those of the upcoming watch, and division officers were at their duty stations. That meant the bridge for her. She pulled on a unitard and launched herself from her compartment into the corridor. Bright red strip lights along the floors lent an eerie quality to her surge up the zero-gravity access tubes between levels, and she ran for the bridge. She got there just as another announcement was made. She saw that the Captain was in the command chair and talking into a lip microphone. “All hands, all hands, this is the Captain. Sensor reports have identified weapons fire fifteen degrees off our current heading, and we are turning to investigate as required by standing orders. No distress calls have been received. We expect to arrive at the source in about fifteen minutes. Stand to your duties. Captain out.”

  She stepped down into the navigation section and glanced at the wall chronometer. Her watch would start before they reached the source of the weapons fire. She put a hand on Cale’s shoulder and said, “I relieve you.”

  He glanced up at her and said, “My watch isn’t over for another ten, Mac.”

  “True, but I’d rather not take over a moment before the fun starts.”

  He let out a sigh, of relief or disappointment she couldn’t tell. “I stand relieved.” He unbuckled, stood, and took a step toward the back of the bridge. Lieutenant Bain put up a hand and said, “Take the second seat Davis. I want you on backup now.”

  “Aye, sir.” He sat beside Mac and they both buckled in. Lieutenant Bain sat in his chair behind both of them, ready to give instructions if they were necessary.

  The minutes crawled by. The interstellar drive made the stars streak past the ship, and were useless for getting bearings for local space maneuvering. Mac stared at her instruments instead, watching flares of visible light Doppler shifted toward blue. “My god, she whispered, those are laser shots.”

  “Yeah,” said Cale. “Powerful ones too. At least a terawatt. That’s a lot more firepower than we have.”

  The Captain said, “Bring weapons and ablative armor on line. XO, you will command weapons fire. Navigation, drop us to normal space twenty kilometers from the source. Execute evasive maneuvers upon entering normal space. Bring us into weapons range. Maintain stealth profile as long as possible. Division chiefs report on readiness for action.”

  “All weapons and armor on-line and standing by.”

  “Damage c
ontrol station manned and ready. All compartments secured.”

  Bain said, “Navigation ready, sir.” Then turning to Mac he said, “Normal space in five, four, three, two, one, execute.”

  Mac had preprogrammed the drop to normal space and several initial maneuvers to save time, since she had noticed an odd delay in the ship’s response to commands in her simulator practice. She punched the command and the ship staggered as the main drive kicked off and the far smaller in-system maneuvering thrusters took over. The ship did a cork-screw barrel roll to get a good sensor picture, then dropped below two vessels slugging it out with laser blasts. No, she realized, not two vessels firing, one vessel. And that firing wasn’t to disable, but to carve up. The target ship appeared to be a bulky cargo vessel of some kind, and was dead in space. The ship firing was enormous, perhaps half a kilometer in length, and bristled with laser cannons. The cargo ship’s exterior mounted cargo modules were being carved off the hull by precision laser cutting, and hauled into the attacking vessel’s cavernous hold by automated tractor units.

  Mac’s heart skipped a beat as she took in the scene. They were no match for the raiding vessel, that much was certain, but standing orders could not be ignored and they all knew it.

  The XO said, “Target enemy weapons clusters with lasers as they bear.”

  The weapons officer replied, “Automated targeting enabled. Ready to initiate. Sir, targeting scanners have identified over two-hundred laser emitters, as well as more than one hundred missile tubes. It would take us at least thirty minutes to hit them all with our limited firepower.”

  “We just need to scare them off,” said the XO. “Fire.”

  Mac’s stomach tightened into a hard ball and her mind raced. This was insane. No way would they be able to scare off the other ship, and if they hadn’t seen the Valkyrie before, they certainly would now. They’d be a sitting duck.

  A loud low frequency hum filled the bridge just as the Captain yelled, “Belay that order,” but it was too late. Two lasers lanced out from under the nose of the Valkyrie. Mac’s initial navigation sequence was quickly finishing, so she selected the next best based on their tactical position and executed it. “Cale, load up a random selection of evasive maneuvers. I want to have a few to choose from. Make sure to include hull rotation so they can’t boil off our armor with one laser shot.”

  Cale looked at her with wide eyes, then back at his board. “Right. I’ve got two for you already, and I’ll keep loading them in the queue.”

  The XO said, “Weapons, damage estimate from our attack run.”

  “Sir, I can detect no appreciable damage. They seem to have some sort of shielding. The emitter we hit is still operational and firing at the cargo ship.”

  The Valkyrie shuddered sideways and the lights dimmed for a moment. “Sir,” said the weapons officer, “They are targeting us with lasers. I also show four incoming missiles.”

  “Switch laser targeting to the incoming missiles and fire,” screamed the XO.

  “Aye sir.”

  “Sir”, said Mac, “That laser shot took out our primary thrusters. Switching to backup systems. If they hit those we’re dead in the water.”

  The Captain said, “Navigation, get us out of here. Maximum thrust, and continue evasive maneuvers. XO, kill those damn incoming missiles.”

  Mac twisted the Valkyrie away from the attack run and executed a random corkscrew maneuver to throw off enemy targeting.

  “One missile’s through,” screamed the Weapons Officer. “It’ll be close. Detonation in three, two, one.” The ship wrenched into an uncontrolled yaw as the blast tore into the outer hull. Alarms screamed in protest as systems overloaded or went dark.

  The Captain bellowed, “Damage report.”

  Lieutenant Stone said, “Sir, we have systems out all over the ship, and we are venting atmosphere in the outer hull. The inner hull is still holding pressure. Damage control teams are responding.”

  “Sir,” Mac screamed over the din, we’ve lost all helm control. The venting atmosphere is causing a shallow turn. The enemy vessel is turning to follow.”

  “No more incoming,” said the Weapons Officer, “but it looks like they are coming to collect us as well.”

  “God damn it,” screamed the Captain. “Give me some options, people. Weapons, what have you got for me?”

  “We’re one-hundred percent defensive, sir. As long as they don’t hit our emitters, we should be able to knock out most incoming missiles. But we’re no match for them, sir.”

  The Captain turned to Bain. “Navigation, give me options.”

  Bain said, “We don’t dare light off the Interstellar drive. We’re too close to the other ship’s gravity well to tune it properly.”

  Mac ran through the options in her head, and had a sickening realization. She unbuckled her harness, stood, and turned to the Captain. “Sir, we could…”

  The XO stood, his face a mask of rage. In Mac’s preternatural Synesthesia, he seemed to be on fire. “Sit down, Ensign,” he screamed. “If we wanted an ensign’s opinion the Captain would have asked for it.”

  “Belay that, Ensign,” said the Captain. “What have you got, Pickett?”

  Mac fought down her anger and said, “Lieutenant Bain is right, sir, we can’t escape on the main drive this close to them. But if we de-tune it, the collapsing compression wave behind us will distort space without sending us anywhere.”

  “My god,” said Bain. “That would crush them like a tin can.”

  The XO glared at her. “Do you know how many that would kill on that ship?”

  Mac met his eyes. “No sir, but it’s us or them, and unless we do something right now it’s going to be us.”

  The ship shuddered just as she finished buckling back into her seat. The Captain yelled, “What the hell--?”

  It was the unmistakable vibration of the interstellar compression drive lighting off. The XO, the lone person standing and not strapped in, was tossed off his feet and crashed into the communications console.

  Bain said, “Davis, what’s going on?”

  Cale held up his hands. “No idea, sir. We haven’t run a command since we lost maneuvering, but that’s the main drive kicking in. And…” He pulled up a performance display and stared at it a moment. “It’s completely detuned.”

  The Captain said, “Shut it down Ensign. Weapons, report on the enemy vessel.”

  Lieutenant Fuller’s hands danced across her console. “No weapons signatures. No propulsion. They’re dead in space, sir.”

  Chapter 4, Confinement

  The Valkyrie was too small to have a formal brig, but being confined to her tiny quarters for the past two days felt like an eternity. Her music collection had saved her sanity. After their narrow escape, the XO had ordered her relieved of duty and confined to quarters pending the outcome of an investigation into the cause of the incident. Apparently she was the lone suspect. Even her data access privileges had been revoked. She hadn’t done anything to warrant confinement. As far as she knew it wasn’t humanly possible to detune the main drive without a few minutes work, because the system just wasn’t set up for that.

  Her compartment door slid aside, and she saw Cale framed in the doorway with his hands over his ears. He yelled, “Can you turn that down? I can’t even hear myself think.”

  Mac hopped off her bunk and shut off the music. Cale said, “What was that? I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”

  “Late twentieth century. I found it in the archives. It was made back in the days when music was composed by actual people. It’s nothing like that synthetic junk they put out these days. I like music that energizes me, not puts me to sleep.” She smiled at him. “It’s good to see a friendly face. I’ve been locked in this dungeon for two long days. I think I’m going insane. What the hell is going on?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say, and what I know is mostly rumor anyway. I’ve been tasked with escorting you to the Captain’s quarters, and instructed not to discuss
the situation with you until you are done with the interview. Sorry Mac.” He smiled and shrugged. His green aura was getting stronger, but now wasn’t the appropriate time to think about what that meant.

  She poked her head out the door expecting to see the two enlisted marine guards she had seen previously when food was delivered, but they were absent. Was that a good sign? A line of maintenance drones and techs in pressure suits and full tool belts filed past them as she and Cale made their way up to A-deck. Apparently hull repairs were still underway. The old girl must have taken one hell of a beating from the missile hit.

  When they reached the Captain’s compartment, Cale put his hand on the announcement panel and the door slid aside. “Enter,” said the Captain’s gruff voice. Cale whispered, “Just you. I have to wait out here.”

  She stepped inside, unsure of the protocol. Was she still an officer or a prisoner being set up to take a long, deep fall from grace? She decided to do the one thing that had been drilled into her at the academy. She raised her chin, marched in, saluted and said, “Ensign Pickett reporting as ordered, sir.”

  He didn’t look up from his pads or return her salute, and her heart sank. “At ease. Have a seat, Ensign.”

  She studied him while she waited for his attention. He looked haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, and his skin had a grayish cast. When he finally looked up she saw exhaustion etched on his face.

  “Ensign Pickett, I am sorry to have left you confined for the past two days, but I thought it best to keep you out of the XO’s way while we were sorting this out.”