Death Ship Quest
Page 25
The other one, of course, was on the bridge. Rom had managed to slap a self-sealing patch over the holes left by the particle beam quickly enough to save the crew’s lives, barely.
Unfortunately, several large pieces of the Astrogator’s station had struck Captain Ler-Traken, gashing his head, and smashing his left thigh. Worse, a large piece impacted his left side, shearing off his left arm at the elbow.
Edro had been quick enough to apply a tourniquet to the arm until the stump could be sealed. A quick examination convinced them that the captain’s best chance would be treatment aboard Rekesh. They put him in the sick bay’s stasis pod and Rom had assumed command.
Luckily, the civilian techs aboard Rekesh were qualified to repair Starhopper’s Astrogator’s station, and they had plenty of spares and parts.
As soon as they pulled alongside Starhopper, they extended a pressurized tube between the two ships’ personnel airlocks, so they could avoid the necessity of suiting up to move between them. Kas followed the medical team aboard, even elbowing aside the repair techs. He accompanied Dr. Kor-Nashta to the bridge, while Ro-Lecton and the rest of his team went directly to the sick bay and the stasis pod.
Everyone on the bridge displayed injuries to some extent. Rom’s right arm was in a sling. Edro hobbled on a makeshift crutch while favoring a heavily bandaged left leg. Both of Gran’s hands were bandaged, and the blackened com panel revealed the reason. Kor-Nashta wasted no time in pushing Edro into the padded captain’s chair and scanning his leg. “Compound fracture of the tibia,” she said tersely. She raised her wrist com. “Doctor Ro-Lecton, I need a stretcher on the bridge,” she snapped. Without waiting for a reply, she whirled on Rom, who tried to wave her off. “It’s just a dislocated shoulder,” he protested.
“Really?” She replied frostily. “And where did you study medicine?” Nevertheless, after scanning the area, she was forced to admit he was correct.
“But that doesn’t mean it isn’t serious,” she continued, turning to Kas. “Commodore, I realize that you’ll need the Commander at the moment. But I warn you, if he doesn’t report for treatment within a few hours, I’ll . . . I’ll sic Dr. Ro-Lecton on you!”
“Not that!” Kas chuckled and raised both hands in surrender. “I promise, Doctor. Two hours . . . Or less,” he added as her expression clouded.
She jerked a nod and sniffed. “Very well. Mister Telker, you will come with me and get those hands tended. Now, what about the other one?”
Rom sighed. “You’ll probably need another stretcher team. Not that she’s that badly injured,” he added hurriedly as Kor-Nashta straightened. “But she was totally exhausted. I gave her Deepsleep. She won’t be waking up for . . . uh . . . six more hours.” he finished after checking his ring watch.
Kor-Nashta nodded and murmured into her wrist com again. “Uh, Doctor,” Rom added. “She does have a nasty head wound, and I’m really worried about her eye. The eyeball was literally jarred out of the socket and hanging on her cheek by the nerves and blood vessels. I . . . uh . . . I popped it back in and bandaged it.”
“The nerves weren’t severed?”
Rom shrugged. “I don’t think so. But it was a hell of a bloody mess, and I didn’t do a careful examination. I just did what I had to do. We all did.”
The doctor’s nod matched Kas’. “What about Toj?” Kas asked.
Rom shrugged again. “He got bounced around, but you know those heavy-worlders. They can take a lot. Far as I can tell, he just has cuts and bruises. But I don’t think he’d admit to needing treatment if he’d lost a leg.” He smiled. “An arm, maybe. He wouldn’t be able to work as well without an arm.”
Kas chuckled in relief. Only Ler-Traken’s injuries seemed to be life threatening, and with the Rekesh’s medical facilities even he was in little danger. “Don’t worry, Doctor,” he said. “I’ll order Toj to report to the Rekesh’s sick bay at the earliest possible moment. Just now, though,” he continued, “we have to get Starhopper in condition to jump. I’ve ordered the Rekesh to deploy a tractor beam and take Starhopper in tow. We’re already boosting for the jump point.”
Rom looked surprised, then troubled as Kas turned to him. “Sorry, Rom,” he said, “I should have cleared it with you. But every moment we stay in this system, we’re in danger. We have to get back into supralight.”
Rom’s face cleared, and he nodded. “Understood, sir. But that only gives us a few days to complete repairs . . .”
Kas shook his head. “No. We’ll have to get the Astrogator’s station back on-line, but you can keep a work crew aboard and complete any other repairs while we’re in jump.”
Rom nodded again. “Yes, sir. Uh, with the captain injured . . .”
Kas sighed. “I don’t know, Rom. You’ve done very well. But I haven’t decided who will command Starhopper. Yes, you’re command qualified. But you’ve been away from military service for quite a while.”
Rom straightened. “Understood, sir. I’m sure you’ll make the best decision.”
Kas gave Rom a sardonic look. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Commander.”
Rom flushed. “Yes, sir. Sorry sir.”
Kas grinned. “Now, with Dr. Kor-Nashta’s permission, let’s go find our engineers and see if we can get them to tell us anything interesting.”
Chapter 16
A swarm of civilian techs stampeded past as they were leaving the bridge, headed for the Astrogator’s station. Kas’ sense of urgency was communicating itself.
Ler-Traken would be spending at least a month in a regeneration station. “He was literally seconds from death when they got him into that stasis pod,” Ro-Lecton reported. “He’ll recover, but it won’t be quick and it won’t be easy.”
That meant that Kas had about two days to decide who would command Starhopper.
In fact, he had a number of choices. First, of course, there was San To-Ling, his exec aboard Rekesh and the senior Commander. By seniority, she was the obvious choice. However, Kas was not confident she could overcome her innerworld bigotry.
Next by seniority was Tre Wansung, the recruiting-poster Commander who now served as Rekesh’s Ops Officer. Wansung lacked combatant-ship experience, but from what Kas had seen since he had been aboard, the young Commander displayed a quiet competence that impressed Kas.
Next in seniority was Rom Reffel, but Kas was not impressed by that fact, since much of his seniority was based on inactive reserve time. Rom did have command experience, and he’d done well under the pressure of a combat situation. Still . . .
Finally, there was Lieutenant Commander Con Vertring, presently the Rekesh’s Assistant Ops Officer. Vertring was an outerworlder, though he went to great pains to conceal that fact, affecting innerworld speech and manners. Since Vertring’s duty station was the bridge, Kas had observed his performance and behavior. He was effective and competent, but he had a tendency to insist that things be done ‘by the book’, and he seemed to treat those junior to him brusquely and with scant courtesy. He had never held command, though he had been the Exec of a corvette.
Kas sighed. He might have four names, but he really had little choice. To-Ling was really shaping up as his XO, and seemed to be working to overcome her prejudices; but he was not ready to put her in command of a crew of outerworlders.
His first impulse was to give the command to Rom, based on his observations on the trip out and Rom’s excellent performance under pressure. Nevertheless, he could not escape the feeling that Rom wasn’t ready for command.
His objection to Vertring was based more on a feeling than a fact. Based on what he had observed, he suspected that, given the opportunity, Vertring could easily become a martinet, commanding by fear rather than respect. While that technique could be effective in certain circumstances, a combat situation without expectation of reinforcement was not one of them.
No, there really was only one choice. He called Commander Tre Wansung to his cabin.
The young Commander entered with a snappy salut
e and a bearing worthy of an academy cadet. As usual with Wansung, the man’s shipsuit was faultlessly pressed, with knife-edged creases.
After inviting Wansung to sit, Kas began, “Commander, when we last met, I suggested you use the strategic and tactical library and simulations to overcome your lack of combatant-ship experience. How’ve you been doing?”
The man was sitting at attention; bolt upright, with his knees together and arms at his sides. At Kas’ words, his expression became one of suppressed excitement. “I’ve been studying the manuals and texts nightly, sir, and I’ve been running tactical simulations several times a week. I have more to learn, of course. But I’ve wanted to talk with you about that. I think I’ve learned the most important lesson, and it’s not in the manuals. Tactics isn’t procedures, is it, sir? I mean, it’s not applying a textbook response to a situation. It’s a way of thinking, isn’t it? Like in chess, or jask.
“You can read hundreds of books about chess and still not be a master, because each situation is just unique enough to need a unique solution or maybe just a unique twist on an old solution. So a chess master studies texts as a means of learning techniques he can adapt to his use, rather than a person who might memorize hundreds of past games and still lose, because he is trying to use solutions that worked in the past in situations that aren’t exactly like those in the book. So, he loses.”
Kas smiled and nodded. “I think so, Commander. You always need to know what has worked, or even failed, in the past -- but you cannot try to endlessly repeat them. Very good. But don’t stop studying. Some ancient wise man once said that those who do not study the past are doomed to repeat it.”
Wansung bobbed his head excitedly. “Exactly my conclusion, sir! And I wasn’t planning to stop now. Those texts are fascinating. Did you know that some are so ancient they may even be pre-spaceflight? Incredible!”
Kas’ smile turned to a grin. “I’ve heard that rumor, too. I don’t believe it. Just because someone has an odd name like Sun Tzu or Clausewitz, it doesn’t mean his book goes back to Old Earth.”
Kas made up his mind. Wansung might be green, but Kas was willing to give him an opportunity to prove himself. Besides, there was no real alternative. “All right, Commander,” he said. “I’m giving you temporary command of Starhopper.”
Wansung’s eyes widened, and then narrowed in determination. “You won’t regret it, sir.”
Kas nodded. “I’m sure I won’t, Captain. However, there’s no time to waste. Starhopper has sustained battle damage that must be repaired before our next jump, in . . . about forty-two hours. Repairs are underway as we speak, and I have every confidence that Rom Reffel will make certain they are done correctly. But she needs a skipper. First priority is repairs to her Astrogator’s station, at least well enough to let her jump with her system slaved to ours.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Wansung said with a frown, “but what’s the hurry? They can’t be ready to attack us again.”
Kas sighed. “True. However, we do not even know who they were. Sheol, if it weren’t for the fact that their ident beacons were disabled, I’d be wondering if perhaps they were sent by the Empire to escort us back!”
Wansung’s frown deepened. “I guess I just assumed they were Glories, sir.”
Kas shrugged. “Perhaps they were. But they could just as easily have been from Libertad. And I can think of a couple of other independents that would not be above a bit of piracy for a prize like the Rekesh.
“The point is,” he continued, “whoever they were; they probably aren’t the only ones chasing us.” He shrugged. “That group might not be able to attack again for awhile, but another group may have arrived almost immediately after we jumped.”
Wansung smiled sourly. “If so, maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll fight each other.”
Kas grinned. “Want to bet your life on it? No,” he continued seriously, “we’re running a gauntlet. And our only chance is to run it as fast as we can, while expecting attack at any moment.”
The young Commander jumped to attention. “I won’t let you down, sir,” he said crisply.
Kas’ smile was warm. “I know you won’t, Captain. Now, get out of here and get your ship fixed.”
Wansung snapped him a bone-cracking salute, and marched from the office.
The ease with which Wansung assumed command of Starhopper was a pleasant surprise. By the time they approached the jump point, Starhopper’s jump comps and systems had been installed and double-and triple-checked. A small crew of civilian techs would remain aboard her to complete repairs to her comm systems and to fine-tune her weapons systems while she was in jump.
Kas breathed a huge sigh of relief as they jumped with no sign of any pursuers. Life again assumed the more relaxed pace typical of jump. The tiny bubble of the jump field was again an oasis of reality in the nothingness of Supralight.
Kas returned to shaking down his crew and his vessel. Tremling returned to his solitary ‘special project’. A pleasant bonus was Sha-Tren, Tremling’s replacement as Engineering Department Head. Perhaps warned by Kas’ treatment of Tremling, Sha-Tren had become more careful about his grooming and military courtesies, and had begun insisting on the same from his juniors. The engineering department was beginning to again resemble part of a military ship more than a shipyard workshop.
Raskin and Vertring, the two officers Kas assigned to share a cabin, were another matter. They studiously tried to ignore one another, and were icily polite when forced to associate. But Raskin went out of his way to display the rudest and crudest of outerworld manners, while Vertring was becoming almost a cartoon of a mincing innerworlder. Since both were frequently on the bridge at the same time, the tension was often palpable.
Finally, To-Ling escorted them to the ship’s gym, where she locked them in, with instructions to call her when they had their problems settled. It was some two hours before they called for release. Both were disheveled and panting. Raskin had a bloody nose and was cradling his left arm in his right, and Vertring was bleeding from several small cuts and favoring his right leg. To-Ling savagely dressed them both down, then sent them to sick bay to have their wounds tended before letting them return to duty.
To-Ling’s own distaste for outerworlders was much less obvious. Kas had hopes he would be able to recommend her for command and promotion to Captain when the mission was over.
However, paperwork and personnel matters were not Kas’ favorite activities, and a feeling of relief tinged his apprehension as the jump timer ticked toward emergence.
As the universe flared into existence on the main screen, Kas scanned for Starhopper. He breathed a sigh of relief when she emerged within seconds. But he did not relax until Vertring announced that no other ships in detection range.
Within a few hours, Be’Rak completed her recalibration, and they boosted for the jump point, Starhopper nestled at their side.
Still, Kas found it impossible to relax during the three days in normal space. He kept half-expecting detection alarms to sound at any moment.
All of Starhopper’s systems were back online, and the civilian techs returned to Rekesh. Wansung remained in command of the freighter, as Ler-Traken had yet to recover enough to return to his duties.
Back in jump, time began to drag again. Then another emergence, and another tense few days. They jumped again. And again.
During their fifth recal, Ler-Traken resumed command of Starhopper, much to Kas’ relief. The young Lieutenant Commander had done a good job, but Kas had been more concerned than he’d have liked to admit about Wansung’s lack of combat ship experience.
His crew was shaking down well. Even Tremling had come around. He had appeared at Kas’ door in a clean, pressed shipsuit and begged Kas to let him resume his duties. Kas agreed, while cautioning To-Ling to let him know if the engineer fell back into old patterns.
Their comfortable routine was shattered during their eighth recal. They had emerged into the system of a red dwarf star, a remnant of a
long-ago supernova. The system was empty, since the planets had been vaporized or blown out of the system by the stellar cataclysm.
Be’Rak had completed her recal. They had been driving for the jump point for about 30 hours, with about four hours to go when Vertring shouted “Ships, sir! Five blips. Three read Empire-pattern destroyers, one possible corvette, and one smaller vessel.”
Kas spun to him. “Where’d they come from? Any Ident?”
“They were masked by the sun, sir. They just emerged from the umbra. Receiving ident data now . . .
“Ident signals are Glory, sir.” Vertring continued. “Confirm Empire-pattern destroyers. One carries flagship ident. Flagship is Sword of Fire. Others are Retribution and Hellfire. Other vessels are frigate Sinkiller and diplomatic vessel Faith.”
“We’re being hailed by the diplomatic vessel, sir,” the com tech reported.
Kas took a deep breath. “Very well. Put it on the main screen.”
The man who appeared on the screen seemed unusually normal, for a Glory. He was well, if conservatively dressed. He looked more like an imperial courtier than a representative of a repressive theocracy.
“You have entered without permission a system claimed by the Mission for the Greater Glory of God,” the man announced without preamble. “I am Ambassador Faithful Godservant. You are ordered to cease all motion relative to this system’s primary and stand by to be boarded.”
Kas suppressed a derisive snort. “This is Commodore Kas Preslin of the Empire Fleet. The nearest Glory system is hundreds of light years from here. We are military representatives of the Empire, and we do not recognize your right to stop or question us.”
The man’s urbane facade began to slip, and a glint of fanaticism appeared in his eyes. “This system has been legally claimed by the Mission, and you are trespassing. You will surrender to the Lord’s justice or be destroyed.”
Kas’ smile turned sardonic. “Now, why do I suspect that the Glory only decided to claim this system after they learned we would be transiting it?”