The Pathfinder Trilogy

by Todd Stockert

  “You let me worry about that,” the Captain replied firmly. “Just get our transit capability back and be ready for action as soon as we recover all support craft.”

  “We’re already on it,” Thomas promised.

  *

  On the command deck, Dennis continued to issue orders. “Hangar deck, this is Kaufield. Place six more fighters on active standby and have them ready to launch through the starboard tubes on my order.” He heard the acknowledgement and quickly reviewed the motion sensor screen in front of him. The first shuttle was no longer a threat, but the other two transports had moved in closer to try their own luck. One flanked them to port this time, the other flashed out of PTP directly beneath. Obviously the enemy to port was hoping to link up with them as the first vessel had while its counterpart moved close enough for a shot at the CAS wand.

  Adam didn’t have to be told – he continued to maneuver the Pathfinder away from the initial attack point, rolling the large starship on its side as he did so. As they moved away with their vulnerable point temporarily protected one of the shuttles ignored the chaotic, ill-aimed fire from its attackers and trained its rail guns on the enemy beneath them. They quickly shot the unprepared ship full of holes… the few lights it had went instantly dark. The other enemy troop transport quickly began backing off as the shuttle immediately turned its attention, and blazing guns, in their direction.

  “All support ships, this is Captain Kaufield. Take all necessary action to prevent the enemy ships from moving within firing range of the Pathfinder.” He kept his eye trained on the largest contact representing the attacking mother ship. “Especially that big sucker launching shuttles at us!” he snapped more than a little heatedly.

  “Aye, aye Captain,” a familiar voice echoed in his ears.

  “Nori?” he gasped in disbelief. “Noriana Andrews… what the hell are you doing out there? You’re supposed to be…”

  “Sitting on my ass while our ship is under attack? Not me,” she replied. “Besides, these guys aren’t half as spicy as their appearance would have you believe. Their weapons have no independent guidance – they’re point and shoot desperados… just ducks in our pond.”

  “But you’re… pregnant,” said Kaufield simply, completely ignoring the expression on Mary’s face as she pretended not to notice his. “The G-forces generated by a fighter in flight…”

  “…Are not all that bad when you’re the go-to gal. The boys are setting me up and I’m knockin’ ‘em down. There’s really been no G-forces for young junior to experience so far,” she replied. “Except for that launch tube thing, I guess. Trust me, a mother can tell… Junior didn’t mind.”

  “There are only two enemy fighters left, Captain, and I’m on babysitting duty right next to her,” Walter said reassuringly. “The larger vessel is shooting at us, but it’s still trying to move into optimum range and they’re firing simple projectiles. With our advanced maneuverability their lack of electronic guidance is definitely showing.” He sounded a bit disappointed. “You said these guys have been fighting each other for how long?” he asked. “Their R & D must be nearly non-existent… they’re no match for rail guns.”

  Kaufield said nothing, just glanced inquisitively across his work station toward Adam. The elder Roh thought for a moment before sharing his thoughts. “They may have been fighting each other for thousands of years, but consider their situation,” Adam suggested. “They are rogues, constantly on the move while trying to locate new planets and asteroids. In all probability they barely have time to set up shop and satisfy their resource needs before an enemy suddenly shows up to attack the sun and thereby deprive them of everything. Just keeping their equipment functioning and feeding the troops is probably their biggest challenge. Not exactly the type of environment you’d expect to find sophisticated electronic computer systems developed in.”

  “Command, this is Shuttle Corona. The last troop transport is on the run. They know we’ve got them out-gunned and they’re running for their lives.”

  “At the very least disable their Point-to-Point capabilities,” Kaufield ordered. “If they get desperate enough they may try and transit into the Pathfinder. We need to buy more time for Glen and Thomas to plot us an escape route.” He glanced at his Delta screen and noted the mother ship continuing its brazen approach. “That goes for you fighter hotshots also. Two of you take out the remaining fighters and the rest of you disable that big SOB. He may decide to transit right into us, too!”

  “Would they really use that tactic?” Mary asked. “It’s unthinkably sinister…”

  “We used it!” Kaufield snapped, a little too sharply. He turned and glanced apologetically at her. “Sorry LT… my nerves are completely frayed. Granted there weren’t any living people on that wreck of a ship we used against the Brotherhood but you never know what these guys will decide.” He shook his head. “They located us and attacked with their closest ship. I would be very pleasantly surprised if they don’t already have reinforcements on the way. I’m trying to think like them – my strategy in that role would be to disable us any way possible. That way their friends can find us and capture our new weapons and technology, which they’ll use to raise the stakes in their private little war.”

  “You pilots watch yourselves,” Glen cautioned from his seat in the Lab wing. “The mother ship contains a very large power source. They may have weapons they haven’t shown us yet.”

  “You think?” Nori replied sarcastically.

  Out in the middle of the primary action, Walter ‘Lightning’ Douglas piloted his F-175 at top speed toward Nori’s distant signal. He was closely followed by the remaining two enemy fighters, both shooting wildly at him in an attempt to disable his engines. Despite the temptation to laugh at their lack of maneuverability he had not so far. It had been his experience that underestimating an opponent was the quickest way to die in battle. If they were shooting at you they could hit you, and in the end that was all that mattered, really.

  He continued to spot occasional fluorescent traces of discharged bullets flying past his cockpit, so he knew that both fighters were in hot pursuit. Nori’s fighter was facing away from them and she was traveling a lot slower, allowing the three ships to catch up with her almost immediately. At the last second before he passed her he saw her maneuvering thrusters activate. The fighter instantly spun around to face the approaching enemy targets, its rail guns firing. Walt watched one of the enemy targets on his motion sensor console fragment and vanish. Five seconds later he spun his own ship around and shot down the remaining fighter.

  “Pathfinder, this is Siren. All enemy fighters are down,” he heard Nori report with undisguised satisfaction.

  “Commander of the Corona breaking in,” stated a new voice calmly. “The remaining transport cruiser has transited back to the mother vessel. I think they’re planning a new strategy.”

  The ‘new strategy’ became immediately obvious as the monstrous mother ship fired up its engines and began moving forward. With its shuttle leading the way, both ships began shooting in unison as they continued their pursuit of the Pathfinder. The mother vessel had taken a series of missile hits from the other four attacking F-175s, but it had quickly shrugged them off and continued ominously forward, fires still burning from several of the targeted impact points. Rail gun fire from the Ranger, the second shuttle, slowed its progress some but not nearly enough to please Nori.

  “They’re preparing to RAM,” Nori reported warily. “I don’t think they have PTP capability any longer but they’re faster than you are, Captain. It looks like they’re going to try and run you down.”

  “Acknowledged,” Kaufield replied. “We’ve got six more fighters standing by for launch but I’m leaving them on hold status. Glen and Thomas have just sent a Canary Probe through a small PTP window to our emergency escape destination and they are reporting that everything is working fine. Your six fighters are cleared for immediate landing in our forward hangar bay. We’re getting the hell out of h
ere as soon as you’re all aboard.”

  “Captain, Lighting and I are in perfect position to intercept and we’ve both got a missile left. Request permission to confront the enemy…”

  “Permission denied, Captain Andrews,” snapped Kaufield. “The Corona and the Ranger will provide covering fire until you land. Then they’ll use the hangar bay’s rear entrance to dock with us. We need all support ships aboard and secure before we can PTP so get your butts in gear.” There was a pause as Walter listened, and he used the opportunity to bring his fighter back alongside Nori’s. Ahead of them the other four F-175s had already passed in front of the Pathfinder and were turning to land. “Trust me, Nori,” the Captain said reassuringly. “I’m watching Thomas’ clock very closely.” Walter knew she was tempted to continue the attack but he also knew her, and thus the decision that she would inevitably make.

  “Pathfinder hangar control, this is Siren. You’ve got two more F-175s ready to land, so get those other boys out of our way the instant they’re down.”

  “Copy that... and welcome home, Captain.”

  “Now that part has always bothered me,” Walt decided as both he and Nori also circled around in front of the Pathfinder and prepared to land. “If your rank is a Captain and his rank is also a Captain…”

  “…How come I’m not a head honcho the same as him?” she guessed before frowning slightly. “Since you like reading, Walt, may I suggest that your next choice be the ‘Project Pathfinder Charter’ that was written several years ago,” she suggested. “I think you’ll find it quite complex and extremely boring. It specifically outlines the authority that each role we fill is entitled to while assigned to this project, regardless of previous rank.” She laughed uproariously. “I’m a Captain out here, with you. But inside that ship I’m just another average Joe.”

  “Thomas, you’ve got exactly ninety-two seconds left,” Kaufield stated informatively, watching the enemy ships grow closer. “Then we have no choice but to transit whether the Canary Probe is back on our side of the window or not. Most of the larger ship’s forward guns are down, but they’ll still be able to damage us easily enough once our own shuttles cease fire.”

  “Hold on tight,” the young scientist requested from his station down below. “The Canary Probe is scheduled to return in seventy-six seconds. That should beat your deadline.”

  The remaining enemy troop transport had dropped back and was now trailing its mother ship, having taken heavy fire from the two combat shuttles. Both the Ranger and the Corona were easing slowly into the Pathfinder’s rear hangar bay, their rail guns continuing to shoot until the very last second at the pair of approaching targets. Hating every second of the seemingly endless wait, Kaufield tapped the pen he was holding repeatedly on his Delta laptop – the dark mass of the monstrous enemy ship was so very large now on their overhead monitors and growing closer with each passing second. Mary reached over and calmly took the pen away from him. The attempt to cheer him up failed as he continued to watch the seconds tick by.

  “That’s it, Thomas,” he said into the Comm-link. “I can’t wait any longer…”

  “As promised!” he heard the younger Roh shout from somewhere down in the Lab wing. “Here it comes!”

  The Canary Probe roared out of the open PTP window beneath the Pathfinder at nearly 100 kilometers per second. It adjusted its course only slightly, since the enemy ship was now so close there was virtually no way to miss it. Thomas kept his work station’s remote control crosshairs firmly planted on the bottom of the mother ship’s hull – and the vehicle-sized device impacted firmly into it dead center. Although it contained no explosives, the mass of the Canary Probe was extremely sizable and – combined with its high velocity – it proved to be a very effective, unexpected weapon against the hostile enemy.

  “They wanted to ram us… we just beat them to the punch,” Kaufield said darkly as the enemy vessel veered awkwardly away from them, now critically damaged. The remains of the Canary probe emerged from the top of the ship in a glowing comet-like tail of fire. The hulking mother ship flashed harmlessly by above them as Adam fired their dorsal thrusters and sent the Pathfinder plunging down and away from it. They had no chance to witness anything further as Glen quickly expanded the PTP window beneath them so that it surrounded their own starship. In a flash of victory, they vanished, leaving behind four ships – one large and three small – burning brightly in space.

  *

  Down in the Lab wing Glen verified that their arrival point was correct, then pushed his chair back from his desk and sighed with a relieved sigh. He put his head into his hands and then wiped sweat from his brow as he continued to breathe deeply for a precious moment. The room erupted with a roar of spontaneous applause from the staff surrounding them – all of whom had been furiously working alongside them throughout the battle. Glen glanced over at Thomas and couldn’t help but laugh at the triumphant expression on the kid’s face.

  “You are one smart boy, Thomas,” he said. “Did you know that? If those guys had managed to board the Pathfinder we would have had a serious disaster on our hands.”

  “What can I say?” Thomas replied jubilantly, smiling from ear to ear through his freckles. “Not only am I charming and charismatic, but I’m intelligent, too. My only flaw is that I don’t handle extreme stress very well.” Coming from someone else such a statement would have sounded arrogant. From Thomas Roh it sounded just plain hilarious.

  “That was about as extreme as things can get and you did just fine,” Glen pointed out.

  “The time off has done me a lot of good,” grinned Thomas. “After all, I’ve been lying on my couch for the past couple of weeks with a purring cat sitting on top of my chest. You have no idea how much negative energy that can purge!” He paused to listen as the Captain activated the ship’s all-call system.

  “Everyone can stand down from General Quarters,” Kaufield stated. “But all on duty officers and pilots should remain at high alert, since the enemy has demonstrated the ability to track us through transit. I doubt they can follow us through a 1,000 light year leap, but you never can tell…” Finished, he let the overhead speakers go quiet.

  “That’s another thing that has been bugging me,” Thomas said, raising his right index finger for emphasis. Swiftly, he punched up a number on his Comm-link and waited until he heard the Captain’s voice.

  “Great job down there, guys and gals. You saved the ship!”

  “Thanks, Captain,” said Glen. “You should have seen Thomas roar in here right in the middle of everything. He showed up barking orders and never let up until we were safe.”

  “Captain, about that PTP thing you just mentioned,” Thomas said enthusiastically. “I don’t think the enemy can track us through transit… Adam is incorrect on that one particular detail.” He paused for a moment and laughed when he heard his brother’s astonished voice.

  “I am? They can’t?”

  “No, they can’t,” Thomas said confidently. “Right before I came down here I was monitoring all of the communications channels, including the telemetry from Dashboard’s shuttle patrol.” He flashed Glen a quick smile. “Since everything hit the fan as soon as they returned from their scouting patrol, it sure seemed that the enemy could track us at the time. I know your command team hasn’t had a chance to talk to the pilots yet or analyze the recorded telemetry since you were all so busy defending the ship.”

  “Okay… you’ve got me curious. How did they find us?” Kaufield asked. “I hope you’re not suggesting that they just showed up at such an opportune time by random chance?”

  “No they didn’t,” Thomas agreed. “But I think Dashboard will be the first to tell you that there’s a hidden passive communications station on that blasted out planet we were sitting next to. It detected our presence, waited until the planet orbited away from us and then sent a quick data burst with our coordinates through a tiny PTP window. So we know they do have that tactical capability, at least – even if their we
apons and guidance systems basically suck.”

  “We’re very fortunate that their guidance systems ‘suck’ and that we got away,” decided Kaufield. “I also think we proved our theory that there’s an all-out war going on in that region, and can definitely log the location into the computer catalogue as very dangerous and off-limits for future visits.”

  “I would appreciate it if you would,” Glen decided, wiping more sweat from his forehead. His comment started Thomas and the other members of the Laboratory staff laughing, cheering and applauding all over again. He waited until the noise died down and then cautiously asked “How much damage did we take?”

  “Very little,” Dennis reported. “As I said we were extremely lucky. Jeff reported in to let us know a few stray shots hit the Garden and Livestock wings but they didn’t penetrate the inner shielding. As soon as we verify this spot as quiet, Mad Dog will have a crew out on EVA duty to patch up the holes.”

  “Well, we’ve got five magnetic grapplers hanging on our side of the ship with their severed cables dangling,” Glen commented. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d have the EVA crew remove those for us, too!”

  “I’ll have them add that to their list,” Kaufield said. “I have one last question for Thomas. Your brother up here is confident that the ‘universe diagram’ transmission we received was not sent to us by any of the factions in that war zone we just left. Would you agree with that?”

  “Absolutely I agree with him,” decided Thomas. “The ship that came after us was a dreadnought in the finest tradition of our original naval sailing vessels. I would speculate that their typical strategy is to board their target like they tried to do with us. If they can’t their next effort is to pull alongside their enemy and open fire with all weapons at point blank range in the same manner that our old ships did. If guns fail, their last resort is to try and ram. The winner in that type of all-out cannon battle is the one that doesn’t sink.”