He Who Dares: Book Two (The Gray Chronicals 2)

by Rob Buckman

  “She might not be the Battleship you wanted, but I think you’ll find that we get a little more action than they do. Welcome aboard and good luck to you both. After you’ve had a chat with Chief of the Boat and your orientation tour, you will report to the XO for assignment once you have unpacked. Dismiss.”

  “Aye-aye, Sir.” They both saluted and took a step back before leaving. After the door closed, Mike opened the letter, immediately looking at the signature on the bottom. It was from Admiral Rawlings.

  Mike:

  You asked if I had any young Ensigns running around under foot that I might like to get rid of. At the time I didn’t, but since then a new draft has graduated. I checked these two out, even if they are the son and daughter of old friends. You will find that they are both very capable, and just needed seasoning. I feel you and your ship would be a better posting for them than one of the heavy elements of the fleet, and they’d receive far better training and treatment under your command than someone else. However, If they should prove less than I expected, I will have no problem with you transferring them.

  Rawlings. Admiral, Sol Fleet.

  Mike contemplated the letter for a moment. It wasn’t like Admiral Rawlings to ask a personal favor, he could have just posted them here and said nothing. That meant he thought these two would add to his command in some way as he doubted it was just nepotism. Mike put the letter in his safe, making a note to talk to Pete and Conner about their assignment. Between the two of them, they should be able to find out very quickly if they would fit in or not. After that, he went back to his list of things to do. He sighed, it was a long list, and he was still at the top.

  In all, Cynthia’s upgrades almost doubled the firepower of the main weapons from 500gw to 950gw, and added five extra launch racks for missiles. Mike’s Corvette now had the firepower of a medium Cruiser, and at least twice the speed. The crew began arrived back from leave, some a little worse for wear, but all standing reasonably upright. CPO Conner had a few words to say about that, but he didn’t come down too hard on them. They’d been recalled two days earlier than expected, so he let them off easy. A Navy supply trucks arrived later that day with hard mail, mostly packages and special items ordered for the mess. A few of the less sober members of the crew were ordered to their bunks, much to the displeasure of the remainder who had to unloaded and bring the supplies aboard in the pouring rain.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

  Late one night, almost a week later, their exit from the yard wasn’t in so much of a rush, and then proceeded out to the main channel at a normal pace. It was with some concern that they set down on the dock at the Royal Clarence Victualling Yard at Portsmouth. Thankfully a different officer was on duty, and his only comment was the color of the ship and odd shape, jet back from stem to stern, not that he could see much in his video pickup.

  “Good heavens! What an ugly color!”

  “Yes,” Pete looked over his shoulder, “we’re testing a new coating for the Admiralty.”

  “You Corvette chaps do get some odd duty assignments, don’t you.”

  “You could say that.”

  Their next stop was Gosport to empty their magazines of torpedoes and external missile launchers, which the Duty Officer thought a bit unusual. Normally ships arrived to take on ordinance, not give it back. Rather than take a chance on someone recognizing Pete, Mike sent Janice down to the Duty Officer, and after a suspicious look at the orders, he signaled to begin unloading, grumbling about all the additional paperwork he’d have to deal with. There was a definite sense of relief when they at last lifted from the dock and headed out into the Solent.

  The moment they achieved orbit they headed for Dark Side, where autoloaders quickly replenished their torpedoes and reloaded their missile racks. The torpedoes looked exactly the same as the ones they’d just unloaded, twenty foot long by three foot across, with nothing to distinguish them for the standard Mark 42 torpedo the Navy currently used. A tech did hand deliver a data pad which the Marine passed up to Pete Standish. The reloading operation went smoothly, and they were soon on their way, whereupon Mike sent a message to the Admiral that they were operational again. They soon received a flash message from Admiral Rawlings in return with orders to a rendezvous with him at their, by now, designated waypoint. Janice loaded the coordinates into the Nav-Comp for the helmsman and logged an acknowledgment. Much to everyone's surprise, they found the Admiral waiting for them in his private shuttle, and it was with some difficulty the CPO Conner managed to pipe him aboard, never having had the chance to practice with sidebouy’s before.

  “Welcome aboard H.M.S. Nemesis, Admiral.” Mike saluted as the Admiral stepped from his shuttle. Conner finished the last note on his boatswains whistle and called the ‘at ease’.

  “Thank you Captain, though I come and have a look at this ship of yours. Nice turn out, Chief, thank you.” He said, returning the salute. Mike introduced his senior staff, and they went through the usual routine of salutes and handshakes.

  “If you would follow me, sir, and I’ll give to the penny tour.” If he thought the Admiral would just take a quick look he was mistaken. The Admiral took his time, wanting to look at everything, and talk to the crew.

  He did dispense with the traditional ‘Admiral on deck’, and quietly went from station to station. Sometimes he sat and chatted with members of the crew, much to their surprise, asking pointed questions about this and that, or what they thought of the ship. At last they made it to the cramped Wardroom, and he met the senior officers again on a more informal basis. They toasted the King with the traditional sit down salute and everyone relaxed, as the Admiral ordered the Wardroom door closed. The Admiral sipped his brandy again and raised one bushy eyebrow. Reaching over he turned the bottle so he could read the label, then looked at Mike.

  “Dare I ask how a lowly, underpaid Naval Leftenant can afford a better grade of Torgon Brandy than the Admiral of the Fleet?” His remark brought a lot of foot shuffling and throat clearing around the mess table, some looking at the deckhead for inspiration. “Better than a hundred year old at that.” He added.

  “Well, sir, um, that is... we...” Mike began.

  “Spoils of war, Admiral?” Pete stepped into the breach with a grin.

  “Hmm, I think I’d better not delve into the why and wherefore of that.”

  “Might be best, sir.” That brought a chuckle around the table, and relaxed the tense atmosphere. Having a Fleet Admiral suddenly descend on you out of the blue tended to make people nervous.

  “First, let me say that I am very impressed with your ship. She is definitely something out of the ordinary.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  “I can see your crew is equally impressive, and I hope you all have a long and successful career ahead of you.” He saluted them with his glass, then cleared his throat. “So, let’s get down to business, gentlemen.” He said, accepting a refill. “Your Captain has come up with a wild ass idea, and the King has agreed.”

  “My lord! I didn’t expect an answer this fast, Admiral.”

  “Speed is of the essence here, Mike, and a certain degree of secrecy.”

  “I understand that, sir, and so does everyone one here.”

  “Good, as of now, you will maintain radio silence, no communication what-so-ever.”

  “That’s going to be a bit difficult, sir, the picket ships and patrol vessels are going to query me.”

  “Not if you new shielding does what it's supposed to.”

  “And what are we doing, sir?”

  “Your orders are, to leave this system without anyone knowing you are gone. As far as the rest of the fleet, and anyone else, you are on an extended patrol to map the Oort cloud for possible Sirrien surveillance ships.”

  “Sound like a good cover story.”

  “I hope so,” He looked around the table for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Your actual mission is to go to Avalon and deliver a letter, as we discussed, Mike.”

 
; “Yes, sir, I understand.” Seeing the puzzled looks around the table.”

  “You can fill your crew in as to what the letter is about once you have cleared Earth space.”

  “Thank you, sir, I hate keeping my crew in the dark about a mission.”

  “I understand, and a good policy it is. The second part of your mission might be more difficult.” Mike could almost hear the ‘Here it comes!’ from the rest of the group.

  “Certain parties want you to find a way to get to the other side of the Enright warp point and see if you can find a way to use it to get back to Earth.”

  “Oh my!” Janice muttered, looking up at the deckhead as if pleading with God. He held up his hand to forestall the question.

  “I know, it's off limits from this side due to the binary star on the other side, but it's also the one warp point we know the Sirriens aren’t monitoring.”

  “And if we can find a way through?”

  “We know that Enright did find a way back through the WP, but we are hoping that a complete study of what’s on the other side, might just give us a clue as to how we might use it from this side. If you can find a way through, then you are to use it and head for Sol and report to me.”

  “That might take some time, sir, there are no maps beyond Enright’s warp, and no way of knowing how we’d get there.”

  “True, and you, I hope, will be the first.”

  That brought silence around the table, as each thought of the possibilities. It was an uncharted region, and as yet, no one had been able to find a warp jump from anywhere that took them to the binary star system. The only thing they had to go on was one poorly defined spectral analysis that Enright took before he came back.

  “Any M class planets you encounter and map will be credited to you, at least in the end they will.”

  “I understand, sir, even if we do find any, no one can know until this trouble is over.”

  “Yes, and I have no way of knowing when that will be.”

  “If we can find a way through, Admiral, it will give the Navy an edge that the Sirriens won’t know about.”

  “And that might just come in handy in the future.”

  “We’ll give it our best shot, Admiral.” Mike spoke for all of them.

  “I know you will, and if you can’t find a way through, don’t worry about it, just find your way back here by any route. Also, make sure you cover your tracks and get that message to your home world first.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.” Admiral Rawlings took a pouch out of his blouse and handed it to Mike.

  “Here are you sealed orders, Captain. As of this moment, you are, by the direct authorization of his Majesty the King, hereby empowered to use your weapons on any and all ships of any nation that impede the success of your mission. Good luck, God’s speed and good hunting to you all.” The Admiral lifted his glass in a salute. The Admiral then departed as quickly as possible, probably to get back to the H.M.S. ‘Victoria’ before his absents was noted. As he sat in the rear cabin of the shuttle, Admiral Rawlings looked at the black dagger shaped ship one last time before she quickly vanished into the background of stars. He smiled slightly, and gave a small sigh, wishing he were a junior Leftenant again and going with them. It didn’t occur to him to wonder if he’d see them again, he knew he would. No matter what else Mike might be, he got the job done no matter what.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

  “So, what do we have, Gable?” Mike asked as he set course for the outbound trip.

  “I’m still trying to work that out, sir, according to the material that I was given, the new coating can be polarized in several different ways.”

  “Explain.”

  “According to this, and from what Gable told me, we can polarize it two ways, sort of positive and negative, natural, and partial by varying the amount of electrical charge.”

  “A dimmer switch as it were?”

  “That’s a simple way of putting it, Skipper, but accurate.”

  “So, how do we test it?”

  “Send a shuttle out and see what she picks up?”

  “Sound about right.”

  Twenty minutes later they launched a Marines scout, as these had the best detection equipment aboard. Gable went with them to work the equipment, and standing off at 1200 hundred nautical miles he reported in.

  “Have a clear view of you on my scope, Skipper.”

  “You want to go out to Max detection range?”

  “Not yet, sir, let’s see what happened at this distance first.”

  “I copy that, activating shielding, now.” He nodded to Adam, standing by the control panel.

  “Oops, you just vanished, sir.”

  “Good, come slowly back on your reverse heading until you begin to pick us up.”

  “Copy that, Skipper.”

  “Can you see the shuttle, Janice?”

  “Yes, sir, clear as a bell.”

  “Call off the range as she comes in.”

  “Aye, sir, calling range – 1000, 925, 875 - 825 - 700.”

  “Christ, they’ll be in optical range in a moment!” Pete swore.

  “Gable, can you see us?”

  “No, sir, not even on visual yet.”

  “675 - 650 - 625 - 600.”

  “Wait - now I can see you, well, sort of.”

  “550 nautical miles, sir, and closing.”

  “If I didn’t know you were there, sir, I doubt if anyone could really see you.”

  “400 miles, sir.”

  “Keep coming, Gable until you can see us clearly.”

  “475 - 450 -425 -300.”

  “Now I’ve got identification, but still not distinct, even at maximum magnification, you look like a lumpy cigar shaped asteroid.”

  “375 - 350 - 325.”

  “Now it’s getting suspicious, Skipper.” He paused for a moment, then. “Now I have a positive identification on you, Skipper, I can positively ID you as a ship.”

  “Anything on your scope yet?”

  “No, sir, still blank.”

  “So, even a missile launch at this distance would have to be optical only.”

  “Yes, sir, and that would be a hit or miss affair.” Janice answered.

  “They’d have to do a widespread torpedo launch, sort of F&F, fire and forget and hope they hit something.” Pete put in.

  “Just like the old subs use to do before homing torpedoes, calculate where the enemy ships would be and fire at that location and hope they don’t turn or speed up.”

  “Anything else. Skipper?” Gable asked.

  “No, Janice, switch off - Gable, tell the pilot to bring her in.”

  “Aye-aye, sir - now I can see you.” Once the shuttle was aboard and they were on their way again Mike called a conference in the Wardroom.

  “All right people, we now have some data to work with, now let’s start working on ways to use it.”

  “We also need to do a time trial run with the new drive, Skipper.”

  “Yes, I agree, Janice, pick out a course for us to follow with some fixed way points to measure against.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Now the question is, how do we go about finding and penetrating Enright’s warp point without, I might add, getting ripped apart in the process.” Gable put in.

  “We won’t really know that, Gable, until we get to it from the other side and find out if there a way around that binary star.”

  “True, sir, just thought I’d ask.”

  “How many scout torps do we have, Pete?”

  “Sixteen, sir.”

  “That does give us a few options.”

  “The Admiralty tried that originally, sir, and lost every torp they sent through.”

  “Yes, I know, I read up on the data the Admiral included in the package, and that was going the other way, and what little there was, and it wasn’t much help. But Enright did get back, so there is that. It’s our job to find a way to use it both ways.”

  “Any ideas, Skipper?”


  “That depends on if we can find that binary Star System, and what we find when we get there. A star that size should have other warp points, and might lead us home another way.”

  “Unless they’ve all ready been sucked into the black hole.” Gable added.

  “We’ll know when we get there. Once we do, I’d like to send one or two scout torps through at different point of the event horizon, say one from the very edge and another from the center and see where it goes, and what happens.”